I would have been at the hospital every day the past 30 days, changing you, dressing you, feeding you.
The kids would have helped me to decorate your incubator with photos of your daddy and I, drawings from your siblings, a pretty sign with your beautiful name on it. (A very special name that daddy and I took months to come up with)
Not too long ago I would have started kangaroo care, holding you against my bare chest, your little curl covered head resting over my heart, comforted by each beat. Reminding you of the warm and cozy time spent in mommys belly, when you heard the same pulsating rhythm from inside of me.
The doctor and I would be discussing the things you would be working on in order to get you home in the next couple weeks.
Suckling, maintaining body temperature, jaundice. But I know you’re strong, a fighter, this would be nothing for you.
Your room would be ready for you when you got home. All your blankets, and stuffed animals from your brother and sisters, your art work and pretty crib would be the same place it was the day you were born. Instead of now being stowed away in the dark and dusty attic.
I miss you every day, and while this past week has been especially difficult I can’t help but think about how our lives would be so different if you were still here with us. What our schedule would be every day, the things you would like, the sound of you cooing, the sweet way you would cuddle curled in my arms sleeping with me, and how cute you would look while you slept.
I know this will continue and possibly get harder sometimes, especially when your birthday comes around. I’ll try to hold back my tears baby girl, but that is something that I’ve never been very good at. Just know when you see me cry, my tears are my love for you.
And they will never run out.