December 15…. your due date. The day I was supposed to be able to hold you, my baby girl, in my arms. Instead it came and went without even a mention of you. I knew what day it was, but no one else did. I missed you all day and I didn’t get much sleep that night- though I don’t suspect that would have been different had you been here for me to rock to sleep.
I can’t believe it’s been 9 months- sometimes it feels like years ago and other times it feels like yesterday. I know there is a reason you weren’t supposed to stay in our life, but I haven’t figured it out yet and I know it’s likely I never will. While I have healed a lot, I’ll always have scars on my heart from where it broke for you and your sisters. Do you know that your daddy still gets his toenails painted pink with me? We are long overdue for pedicures, but I know he will be right there with me the next time I go.
I’m not sure how I can have so much love for someone I never met, but I do. I think about what you would look like (your YaYa and I look the same and our genes have been passed down for generations). I imagine you would have been born with a full head of hair, big brown eyes, and the most adorable chubby thighs. That’s what you look like when you visit me in my dreams… and you’re grinning from ear to ear.
So for now, I’ll hold onto that- the nights when I get the chance to see your face. Maybe you’ll grow as time goes on, or maybe you will stay the same bit of perfection as you have always been. Only time will tell.
I love you, my sweet angel.