Two years ago, you went home. On a dark and cold winter night we drove to the hospital with you and, when we left the next morning, you were gone. Your mom was a little more than twenty weeks pregnant. You’d made it half way.
Then you were called home.
I cried when I found out you were coming, not out of joy. I was scared, to be honest, to meet you. We never found out your gender but something tells me you were meant to be my little girl.
Your brothers grow each and every day. Carter is so active and he has a huge heart. Aiden is so smart. He loves to sit and relax, play his video games and watch his shows. They would have loved you. They still do.
I like to read. You never found that out, but I’ll tell you because it’s important to me. I read something yesterday that asked “how would you live if you had 6 months left?”
I thought about this question.
And my mind went to you. You had six months. So what if I could live inspired, grab that time, know and remember every second of swirling emotion. What if I could see you as an inspiration?
What if I could live these days to make you proud of me.
The world is hard. It is loud and noisy. People get distracted. I like to think the chaos was too much for you and God called you back to heaven because your heart was too pure for this.
Because we struggle. We suffer. We hurt. Your mom and I, our hearts were broken when we lost you. Your brothers, they were so excited to meet you one day.
We’re not perfect, but we were your family. We are your family.
You will always be in our hearts.
Until the day I see you again, my little girl.