My Dear Little Sweet Pea,
It’s hard to imagine you would be turning 4 years old today. I love 4, because it always reminds me that was the age I first have memories of my own childhood, so I always get excited when one of my own little sweetlings reaches that benchmark. I imagine you feeling so grown up, yet being so small; an age of pigtails and choosing your favorite colors, playdates and independence, but still crawling into mommy’s bed in the night.
There are things I am sad I will never know, like your favorite flavor of cake, and the sound of your voice as you talk to grandparents on the phone calling to wish you happy birthday. Would you painstakingly pull off little thumbnail-sized bits of wrapping paper like your little brother, or would you tear madly through the tape and bows to see what’s underneath? And where, oh where would you choose to have your daddy take you out for your special birthday lunch?
We may not know all your favorites, my girl, but it will not stop us from celebrating anyway. Celebrating your birth, your life, your victories, and your safe journey Home. I feel like I am the one who got the greatest gift on your birthday; the gift of you.
Each year that we have not gotten to birthday shop for you, we have picked a gift for another special little girl who is just beginning life in the same NICU halls we walked on the day of your birth. We wrap it all up girly, with a special note telling of your life, your legacy and we hope it will bring a flicker of joy to another family beginning a journey they never imagined.
This birthday, there was something else I wanted to give. There are things of yours on days my heart hasn’t felt so raw that I have been able to pass on to close friends or family knowing they will use them well and remember you in their going. There has been one thing though that I every time I try to decide what I should do with it, my throat burns hot with a lump too thick to forget. Your baby swing. That fancy, cushy, comforting little seat that we so carefully chose to gently and softly cradle your aching little head and fragile body. It swung you smoothly for miles and miles as it calmed your anxious heart and lulled you to dreaming again. I just haven’t been able to bear the thought of just giving it away, or selling it, or anything else. This one symbol of you has just pulled so hard on my wounded heart strings. Well I talked to one of our sweetest and kindest nurses in the NICU, Lori, and wouldn’t you know it, she got right back to me and said they would take it to use for the little loves bundled in those lonely NICU rooms. Those crying little sweeties not understanding why their mommies don’t come to visit will get to rock away to a peaceful escape where you once snuggled. The hurting, blurry minds shaking side effects they didn’t sign up for will nap with the comfort of soothing sounds and motion, and you, Ellianna Grace, will have made one more tiny footprint in this fading world, and placed a healing kiss on my mommy heart.
|Dropping off Ellianna’s swing|
Happy birthday, my Love. We celebrate you and every moment of joy you have brought to our lives. I love you~ bottom of the ocean, top of the sky.
1 thought on “Your birthday…without you.”
What a wonderful place for her swing to go. Beautiful words from a beautiful mommy! I can't wait until that Day when we get to see the whole picture and we get to meet our loves that have gone on before us. Love you Hannah!