Today was to be her day. We were counting down till today.
Today was the day for the baby girl that came not to be.
Sweet Amelia, I’m thinking of you. In my mind, you have bright strawberry blonde hair, like your Daddy’s, with big, soft, spontaneous curls. You have a smile as big as your heart and skin like cream, fresh and soft.
You would’ve toddled after my girlies, and happily endured their doting. They would’ve felt grown and responsible on some days, and pestered on others, but you would’ve been loved nonetheless. I would’ve stolen you from your Mommy and Daddy and tried to win your favor. We would’ve giggled and tickled, smiled and cooed, cuddled and loved till you fell in love with me merely half as much as I adored you.
I thought of you this morning as I lie in my bed, cozy, calm and safe. I think of you now as I sip my morning drink in the quiet of a sleepy morning. And I will continue to think of you today, and everyday.
When I feel little hands in mine, or feel a short squeeze around my knees. When I smile at the comfort of my own green grass. When I pause to take a deep breath and let gratitude rise in my heart. When I see the reflection of my own eyes in the rearview mirror and think, “I’m so lucky.” When I hear a song I love and feel it lift my spirits. When I push myself to do what I thought I could not. When I hear seagulls. When I tell my family I love them. When I laugh with friends. In these moments, I will think of you.
It isn’t fair that you didn’t get to feel the warmth of a fortunate life, nor weather the storms of a hard one. But, this is how it has come to be. And you, dear baby Amelia, are loved still.
Life is short. Life is delicate. Life is beautiful. For you – as for life itself – we are all grateful. Today, we will give thanks, smile, and remember you.
Sleep tight, sweet Amelia.
We love you.
