Five years ago at this moment I was joyfully and fearfully laboring with you. I waited to see your face, your promise, my hope for the future. I didn't know what was yet in store nor all that occurred in your life already. But if your being two and a half weeks late hadn't proven to me already how much stubbornness was contained in your tiny body, the next few days would.
There was no way to know the fight that was going on between my body and yours. All we knew was that you were a perfect eight pound beautiful girl. When you were having trouble breathing in that first hour of your life our midwife determined that you need more specialized help that she could give.
Two hours after your body was cut from mine you were taken from my sight. I was not prepared for anything that followed. The next time I saw you I could hardly bear to look. We were supposed to be home already, our new little family. Instead we were ushered into the NICU of Children's Hospital.
You were sent as a precaution for the sticky fluid on your lungs, but the next few days spiraled out of my control, something that I could hardly bear then ...and now.
Platelets practically nonexistent.
Transfusions aren't working.
Can't figure out why.
Blood work expedited to Wisconsin.
Unpronounceable words.
NAIT.
No more children.
Do not have more children.
No brothers.
No sisters.
Period.
...But, I had my precious angel.








Please don't ever forget how precious you are to me.