Tiny Baby Clothes

As I sit here, on a Saturday night at just 10pm, folding laundry and unwinding from a busy day, I am overwhelmed with just how blessed I really am.

I remember so vividly how excited I was to be washing, drying, and folding tiny little pieces of clothing after our baby showers we had to celebrate Brooklyn. All of the cute girly clothes, receiving blankets, socks, towels and washcloths all folded perfectly and put away in preparation for our sweet baby. Once we lost her, I had a really hard time looking at all of those outfits baby items, knowing how much I had prepared for her arrival, and how I would never get to enjoy seeing her dressed up or using any of what I had washed.

Towards the end of my pregnancy with Aubs, I think I only did two loads of laundry. It took me a long time to work up the courage to do this - mostly because I was scared. So very scared that I would spend time, energy, and emotions preparing all of these "things" for her, only to be disappointed again. Still, I did the few loads of laundry I had, and hoped and prayed for a different outcome.

Anyone who's had a newborn knows just how much laundry you do in the first few months of their life. Something that was fun and exciting in preparation for Brooklyn, and then difficult and emotional while preparing for Aubs - quickly turned into just another mundane task that I have done many many times since Aubrey's safe arrival.

But as I sit here tonight folding tiny baby clothes, I found myself overwhelmed with emotion. My eyes started to swell with tears, as I remembered those times that I washed items for Aubrey, not knowing if she would ever get to use them. Before they were just items that helped hope. Now they hold memories of things I have been able to see Aubrey do, and experiences we have had with her. Her laundry isn't just laundry, but hope that was fulfilled in the form of a 7lb 9oz baby girl.

She is here, and she is safe. Sometimes I forget that just over 5 months ago, I wasn't so sure this would be the case.

It's often the things that seem the most mundane that remind me just how blessed I am. A great reminder to me that it is such a privilege to be able to do these little daily tasks for her that "just need to be done." The time it takes to nurse her, schedule outings around nap times (even when it seems inconvenient), washing and sanitizing her toys, and the tiny baby clothes that I have the privilege of folding.

Tonight, for the first time in a little while, I am reminded of how very thankful I am for Aubrey's life and health, and the joy that she brings us. 

One Less

June 22nd marked one full year since we found out we were pregnant with Aubs. One year since we began the very scary and complicated pregnancy after loss journey. I remember so clearly the Sunday morning I took the test. It was the day after a friends' wedding, where feelings of grief hit me very hard when the parents of the bride gave their speech. So many emotions came as a result of those two pink lines, but mostly just relief that we were able to get pregnant again. One of my fears after losing Brooklyn was that we would struggle to get pregnant again. When June 22nd came this year, it felt so surreal that a whole year had passed. Some days I still can't believe that Aubrey is here safe. I spent so much time worrying about her arrival, and now my entire life revolves around tiny person.

Aubs is now 4.5 months old. I feel like she changes and learns new things every day now. Most recently she learned to flip from her back to her tummy. Her new favourite thing is to flip over and over again from back to tummy and tummy to back. It makes diaper changes a little bit more challenging. It's so fun to see how proud of herself she is when she learns something new. She has also been so interested in our drinks lately. She grabs at our cups and tries to put them in her mouth. Recently I started giving her tiny bits of water in her sippy cup to see if she liked it. It only took her a day to catch on! I know everyone thinks their child is so smart, but she really is such a bright little girl. I love her to pieces and can't wait to see the impact she makes on this world.

Last week Derek and I were driving around in Dundas because Aubrey fell asleep in the car and we wanted to let her finish her nap before getting home. We drove through Grove Cemetery where Brooklyn is buried but didn't stop for fear of Aubrey waking. I haven't been there to visit in a long time and I began to feel really guilty.

Before having Aubrey I was afraid that my love for her would change my love for Brooklyn. In some ways it has. Almost all of my time is devoted to making sure Aubrey is fed, clean, sleeping, learning, growing, happy, etc. When she is napping or sleeping for the night, I try to get things done around the house, leaving little time for much else in my life. What hasn't changed, is the fact that I think about Brooklyn every single day. I think about her when Aubrey's big blue eyes light up, and when she lets out a big belly laugh. I still wonder what colour eyes Brooklyn had, and what her sweet laugh would have sounded like. The joy is always mixed with the longing for my firstborn.

I've said it before, but recently I have really been mourning the fact that Brooklyn and Aubrey will never have a sister relationship here on this earth. When I see pictures of sisters together, I always think of Brooklyn. Even if we were to have another daughter one day, it just won't be the same.

A friend of my mom's took family pictures for us recently. They turned out really great, and we even included our Brooklyn bear in some of them. But looking through the pictures, I found myself getting sad and teary-eyed. Our family pictures will always be missing one person. And our family will always be one less than it should be. I was struck by this a lot when we were at our friends' daughter's first birthday party this past week. She texted me that morning saying that she was sad the party would be missing one little person. Knowing others love and miss her too helps soothe my aching heart just a little bit. And knowing that this friend anticipated my heart would be especially missing my girl that day helped validate how I was already feeling.

I used to feel guilty for feeling this way. Almost like if I missed Brooklyn, it meant I wasn't grateful for Aubrey. What I've come to realize is that it's okay and actually healthy to hold both feelings simultaneously. I love both of my girls, and because Aubrey is physically here, I'm able to show her my love by hugging her and kissing her and making sure she is safe. Part of the way my love for Brooklyn comes through is when I miss her.

I talk to Aubrey about her sister a lot. I tell her that she looks like her sissy, and read her a story called "Someone Came Before You", where I replace the words "baby" with "Brooklyn" to personalize it. Even in her absence, Brooklyn will always be such a big part of our family.

I'm excited for the day she starts asking about her pictures and things we have placed around the house to remember her. I'm excited for the day she can say Brooklyn's name. But I'm most excited for the day that our entire family can be reunited, and we are no longer one less.

When Grief Creeps In

Things around here have been going really well lately. Aubrey is 3.5 months old, is sleeping really well most nights, she's catching on to this nap training thing, and has become a much happier baby than she once was. She still has her fussy moments, but she is very smiley and has such a bright personality.

In two more days, Brooklyn should be turning 14 months old. I remember when we first lost her, a mum who had been on a similar journey told me that one day she would no longer be the first thing I thought of when I woke up in the morning. I didn't believe her then, but that is the point I'm now at in this grieving process. I've still yet to get through a full day without thinking of her at least once, though.

I miss her a lot lately. I have missed her since we lost her, but this longing is different. It's the kind you can feel in your bones. The kind that hurts your heart and makes your arms ache even though they seem full. Grief comes in waves. Very messy, complicated waves.

Many people have made this longing a bit easier lately. We've received cards and presents in the mail addressed to Derek, Brooklyn, Aubrey and I. A friend sent me the new-ish Hillsong song "Even When It Hurts" because it made her think of me and our journey of loss. If you have ever experience any kind of loss and are a believer, I highly recommend you listen to this song. Last week at church someone who had yet to meet Aubrey in person told me that she is "just as beautiful as Brooklyn." It feels good just to even hear her name coming from someone else's mouth sometimes. We appreciate the recognition that she existed, and will always have a special place in our heart and in our lives helps on the days when grief hits hard.

The past few months, I have heard more and more stories of people losing their babies. A friend of a friend lost her sweet baby boy at 20 weeks gestation. A friend from university texted me and asked for resources for her  cousin who lost her sweet baby while she was in labour - a story similar to ours. And a friend's co-worker lost her sweet girl at full term.

It has been an honour to come along side some of these people and support them through their losses, though I wish so badly there no one had to experience the loss of a child. My heart aches for every single one of these families, as I know the long journey that is ahead of them because I'm still on the journey myself. The kind of journey that will never end as long as we are living. It still just doesn't feel right that things like this happen. I'm not sure I will ever get to a place where I have the attitude of "sometimes bad things just happen..." Obviously I know things like that happen way too often than I like to think, but it still just isn't right.

I've had lots of moments lately where I feel overwhelmed with grief, and go right back in my mind to the time we found out we lost Brooklyn. Before "19 Kids and Counting" was cancelled, they aired their daughter Jill's birth story. Her labour was long - 70 hours, and it ended with an emergency C-section because there was meconium in her water, the baby's heart rate was elevated and he was in distress. They mentioned in the episode that Jill was born May 17, 1991 (my birthday) and her baby boy was born April 6th (Brooklyn was born the 5th.) This story is far too similar to ours. The one difference was their outcome resulted in the birth of a healthy boy. The whole time I was watching the episode, I felt like I was right back in the delivery room with Brooklyn. I actually cried lots of tears of joy when they safely got her baby out. That should have been how it was for us too. It should be how it is for everyone.

I've continued to have people ask me when we think we'll start trying for another baby. I just keep telling people that yes we would like to have more, but we're not sure when. This is the absolute truth. But there's another part to it. Even though we have now had a pregnancy that ended in a healthy living baby, the thought of another pregnancy is terrifying to me. Medical professionals told us all through our pregnancy with Aubrey that baby loss can happen to absolutely anyone at any time. It feels like because this happened to us once that we should be guaranteed to never have to go through it again. Unfortunately this isn't the case.

I got together with some friends who are pregnant a couple weeks ago, and we were talking about how terrifying pregnancy is. All of the unknowns and new things your body goes through. The questioning of whether symptoms or lack thereof are "normal". So many things are just scary during this time. For me, there are all of these things, plus the added reality of knowing that not all pregnancies end happily with a baby in your arms.

Despite this fear, yes we would love to have more kids one day. We're just not sure when. For now, we're loving all of the firsts we are getting to experience with our little Aubs.

I'm loving that she is so smiley and laughs often. She is forming her little personality and we are seeing bits of Derek and I come out in her. She becomes frustrated when she can't do things right away, which is very much like me. And unfortunately is a fan of her Daddy's music. Though she likes the Dixie Chicks too, so I can't complain too much! :) She has blue eyes like her Mama and her Daddy's ears and cute little dimples. Words can't explain how much we love this little girl. But yet there is still the longing for her sister, and the wondering of what Brooklyn's personality would have been like, what music she would have liked, and what colour her eyes would have been. This joy is often accompanied by the continued grief.

Thank you to everyone who continues to journey this long road with us. We are so blessed to have such a great community of people who love us and our girls deeply. And please keep the families I have mentioned in your thoughts and prayers.

Twenty Four

Yesterday I celebrated my 24th birthday. I had such a great time with friends and family this weekend, and often thought back to what my 23rd birthday was like. It was only 5 weeks after we lost Brooklyn, and I was in the anger stage of my grief. I was angry at most things, a lot of people, and felt very bitter about my life. Even though it was still full of many great things, being a mama was the one thing I've always wanted most and it had just been ripped out from underneath me.

This year was so very different. There was much more joy, and my arms were full again, yet still missing one little person.There's that old hymn that has the line "it is well, with my soul". I'm finding that no matter how much time passes, losing Brooklyn still doesn't sit well with my soul. It still feels so wrong and often times still surreal. Though Aubrey (nor any other children we may be blessed with), will never fill the Brooklyn-sized hole in my heart, she has brought a kind of joy to my life that I thought I would never be able to feel. I was especially thankful for that this weekend.

As I reflect back on the last 24 years of my life, it is crazy to me just how much "life" it feels like I have lived. So much has happened in such a short amount of time - good things and bad. I have been blessed with so many amazing opportunities including travelling to West Africa on a missions trip twice, graduating an amazing and highly acclaimed undergraduate program, marrying a man who loves me unconditionally, and giving birth to two beautiful girls. I have always been a planner - someone who likes schedules, lists, organization, and control over most things in my life. And when things in life didn't turn out exactly how I had planned, I always had a plan B lined up right behind it. My type A personality often made me up tight, not flexible, and just not very much fun to be around at times.

Along with everything I listed above, my biggest shortcoming was thinking that I had everything in my life figured out. I have had this picture in my head of exactly how I wanted my life to be, and knew the steps I would need to take to get there. It went something like this...  "Get married - check. Graduate university - check. Buy a house - check. Get a dog - check. Land a job in my field - check. Have three babies - check.. wait, our first baby died and things didn't turn out exactly how I wanted, now what...?"

This past year, the best thing that has happened to me is that I have learned to let go of a lot of my expectations. I have started to learn to give up control of a lot in my life. I've learned that it's okay to soften my heart and let people in every once in a while. And I've learned is that I really don't "have it all figured out". Someone asked me the other day how many more kids Derek and I want to have. Just over a year ago, before we lost Brooklyn, I would have said with great confidence that Derek and I definitely want to have three kids. Now I answer this question and others like it much differently. Now I say that we would love to have two more kids, but we will see what happens. Because the reality is, you just never know how life is going to turn out.

While I hope we are blessed with more littles ones, right now I will just enjoy the ones that we have. I will take in every moment we have with Aubrey, and truly savour every single "first" that we experience with her. 

People say that parenting changes you. I'm finding this to be so very true. Both of our girls have changed the person I am for the better. Brooklyn has taught me to appreciate so many things in this life, never take any one for granted, and that I'm not invincible or untouchable by tragedy - no matter how much I plan to avoid these things. Aubrey has taught me to roll with the punches, to have some flexibility in my expectations, to take things one day at a time, and that its okay to admit I don't have all the answers.

My type A personality still peeks its way through sometimes. I had a conversation with Derek today that went something like this. F: "I think my idea of fun and yours are very different." D:"Yeah, your idea of fun is writing up our budget and watching 'My 600-lb life' on TV". He isn't wrong, I actually get a lot of enjoyment out of things like writing up our budget, making lists, and getting things done around the house. But I'm slowly learning to loosen up, and that these things all provide me a false sense of control over things in my life. They're not bad things to do, I just need to remember that it's okay to do things just because they're fun sometimes too.

While I wish my 23rd year of life had looked different, I'm thankful for the lessons it's provided. I look forward to my 24th year, and however many more I am blessed to have on this earth. I hope this year is full of joy, fun, and making the most out of life as it comes our way.

A New Kind of Mother's Day

I recently read the blog post I wrote last Mother's Day - only 5 weeks after we had lost our Brooklyn. That was such a hard day for me. Harder than Easter, harder than Thanksgiving, maybe even harder than Christmas. I can still feel the intensity of my sadness and anger from that day, as if it is ingrained deep in my bones. I remember how badly my arms ached that day to be holding my sweet girl, and the pit in my stomach that remained all day long.

A few people tried to make Mother's Day better for me last year. Derek got me some beautiful gifts and wrote a really nice card on how he loved me even more after becoming a mama. And two other sweet friends got me the Willow Tree mama holding her baby that is still my profile picture for this blog. But on the whole, I felt like I was walking around the whole day and no one was acknowledging my motherhood. No one was acknowledging the fact that I carried that baby girl 39 weeks and 4 days, gave birth to her, dreamed about a future for her, cared for her in my belly, prepared our house for her, and prepared my heart for her arrival. I felt like that most days, but that feeling was especially apparent on Mother's Day.

Skip ahead 364 days to now. Our sweet Aubrey is napping upstairs in her crib, and my aching arms are full. This Mother's Day will certainly be different. But I will still be walking the tight-rope of joy and grief. Joy for the daughter that fills my aching arms and who's sweet smile makes (almost) everything feel okay, and grief for the daughter who won't fill my arms again until we are reunited one day. 

While I was reflecting on this Mother's Day, I remembered the prayer our pastor Matt would recite each other's day. It is written by a lady named Amy Young.

"To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you.

To those who lost a child this year—we mourn with you.

To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains—we appreciate you.

To those who experienced loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you.

To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment—we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.

To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms—we need you.

To those who have warm and close relationships with your children—we celebrate with you.

To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children—we sit with you.

To those who lost their mothers this year—we grieve with you.

To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother—we acknowledge your experience.

To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood—we are better for having you in our midst.

To those who have aborted children—we remember them and you on this day.

To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children—we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be.

To those who step-parent—we walk with you on these complex paths.

To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren, yet that dream is not to be—we grieve with you.

To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year —we grieve and rejoice with you.

To those who placed children up for adoption—we commend you for your selflessness and remember how you hold that child in your heart.

And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising—we anticipate with you.

This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you."

Yesterday I received a card in the mail from our good friends Jenna and Bryson. I asked them if I could share it because it was such an encouragement to me.

This Mother's Day, please encourage all of the mothers in your life. Remember that this day is not all "flowers and joy" for every woman. It can be such a hard day if you struggle with losing a child, infertility, the loss of your own mother, or even women who have distance with their own children.  And most of all, please acknowledge these women tomorrow. This card from my friends was so encouraging, but what made it so special was the fact that they acknowledged I am a mother of two, and not just one. No matter what their motherhood looks, acknowledge all of the women in your life who have been mentioned above. 

Strong Women

Recently, my mum posted an article on my Facebook wall about how we as mother's need to stop judging each other, and instead build each other up. The premise is that we are all just trying to be the best mamas, and do the best we can.  This is something that has been on my heart and in my mind for a little while now, after seeing a Similac advertisement that brings humour to the "extremes" of parenting. It shows mamas pushing strollers making fun of mamas wearing carriers, working mamas making fun of stay at home mamas, breastfeeding mamas judging bottle-feeding mamas, etc.  All of the sudden a stroller with a baby in it takes off down a hill, and all the parents run towards the stroller to help. The ad ends by saying "No matter what our beliefs, we are parents first."It really brought to light the solidarity of parents and type of mama community I want to be a part of.

When I got pregnant with Brooklyn, I became obsessed with researching. I researched everything from the safest car seat, the benefits of breast feeding and "baby wearing", and even the development of an infant/toddler's brain. Once I was overloaded with information, I felt I had a pretty good grasp on the best and safest products we needed to buy, and how we would raise and parent our daughter.

While being pregnant with Aubrey and trying to prepare for her arrival felt different than it did with Brooklyn, I still continued to maintain these rigid ideas. I knew I wanted to breast feed. I knew I wanted to wear her in the sling and carrier as much as possible. I knew I wanted to wait a while before giving her a soother. And most of all, I knew I definitely didn't want to co-sleep. A lot of my ideas were very rigid.

After 10 short weeks of parenting, though I am exclusively breastfeeding now, there were two days in the very beginning of Aubrey' s life that my milk wasn't in and I had to supplement with a bit of formula - devastating to someone who wanted to exclusively breastfeed. I wear her in the sling and Ergo alot but I use the stroller much more often than I thought I would. After a very long and sleepless night, when she was just 7 days old, I caved and gave her a soother. And there have been times that I have brought her into bed to snuggle with me - more often than I ever thought I would. I wish my "pregnant with Brooklyn-self" could see me now.

Before parenting, I was totally one of those people who passed judgment without even meaning to on people who chose to parent in ways I could never imagine myself doing. What I'm learning with Aubrey is, sometimes you have to do whatever works in that moment, even if that means going against things you swore you'd never do. This is hard for someone who is stubborn like myself. It's hard to let go of those rigid ideas I had, and just learn to be in the moment as a parent. It's even harder to look back and feel the conviction of being one of those judgmental people that I have encountered in my 10 short weeks of parenting a living child.

Another huge thing that I am slowly learning, is that right now, Aubrey's temperament is not a reflection of my parenting. I have had a hard time with that because she has been a fussy and relatively "high-needs" baby. It's hard being out in public with her, or at a gathering when she is crying. I have often thought "what do they think of me as a mother, I can't even soothe my own baby." After a very close friend reminded me that this is not a reflection of me as a mama, I'm just starting to feel more relaxed, and less guilty. My mum also reminded me tonight that I am a good mama, even when I don't think I am, and that Aubrey loves me very much, no matter how impatient I think I'm being. I'm starting to let go of the idea that her crying is a result of something I am or am not doing, instead, sometimes she just needs a good cry.

I have always wanted to have girls. I joked with Derek before we ever got pregnant that we would only ever have girls, and so far, I've been right. Part of the reason I wanted girls so badly, was so I could raise them to be strong women. Too often I have seen women judge one another, talk about each other, or have such low self-esteem that they feel the need to continue these patterns. I so badly wanted to raise women who would be confident, and build other people around them up instead of tear them down.

If you're a parent who has been parenting even for a little while, encourage a new mama. Make a point of it to tell her she's doing a great job. Invite her over for coffee. See if there's anything she needs. I can't even express how thankful I am to the people who have done these things for me in the past ten weeks.  

Also, encourage mamas who have been doing it for a while. Remind them that  they are also doing a great job. Sometimes doing the same job daily can wear someone down. As great as parenting is, sometimes it is just plain hard. We all need a little encouragement, even more experienced mamas.

Stand beside other mamas (and dads). And let them know they're not alone. They're doing the hardest job in the whole world, and while it comes with its perks, it's also okay to admit that it's just really hard sometimes. Love on them, pray for them, encourage them, and build them up.

I hope to raise Aubrey to be a strong and confident lady. One who is able to be flexible, and not so rigid in her ideas. One who chooses to build other women up around her and empower them to do the same. And I hope with all my heart, that I can be an example to her of someone who also does this.

I hope I can show her that when it comes to parenting, we are all trying to do it the best way we know how. If we remember that, we can work together to encourage and empower one another to raise little people who do the same.

You Are One

Our precious Brooklyn,

April 4th marked one year since we found out we had lost you. The past few weeks I've thought about that moment often. It feels like just yesterday. I will never forget the way I felt laying on that table in the back room of triage, or the way it sounded when I cried out in sorrow when they confirmed that your heart had stopped beating. Those emotions are still so raw and so fresh, and I'm sure that even 50 years down the road, I will still be able to mentally go right back to that place.

I can't believe it has been one full year since you, our beautiful first born baby girl was born. I wonder if you'd be walking by now. Would your dark curly hair still be dark and curly? Would you be talking now? I'm so sad that we're missing out on all of these things and more, my sweet girl.

Mama wishes that she had been able to plan your first birthday party, instead of having to decide what to do on the 5th to celebrate your short life. Daddy, Aubrey, and I wore purple for you that day, and mama made cupcakes with purple icing and mini eggs on top to celebrate you. When I was pregnant with you, mini eggs were my biggest craving. They always make me think of you.

Daddy, Aubrey and I went to visit you that day too. It was a snowy cold day so we couldn't stay very long, but it was so nice to see all the different flowers that people had left you for your birthday. Your Daddy brought you a purple one. As we left, I turned to him and said that sometimes it still doesn't feel real. It feels like a bad dream, and though I'm no longer pregnant, it feels as if we are still waiting for you to arrive.

The past month has been really hard. Not only was I dealing with grieving your loss, your little sister was very fussy. It got to the point where I felt like if she was awake, she was crying. At one point I was seriously concerned about having postpartum depression. But after talking to our midwife, she confirmed that I was overwhelmed and not so much depressed. This is because Mama was able to laugh and feel good when Aubrey wasn't fussy. After trying everything to make her feel better, Mama ended up cutting out dairy and so far it has helped. She still has her fussy moments but not near as many.

During those really fussy weeks, I often thought about how I felt bad for Aubrey. You see my sweet girl, all of my experiences with you were joyful. I never had those frustrating long days when you just wouldn't sleep or felt like a bad Mama because I just couldn't settle you. But with Aubrey, with the love and joy I have for her, also comes frustration at times. Frustration and then regret from being frustrated. Then comes the second and triple guessing of all parenting decisions with her. I always love her - always, but the only emotions you ever experienced me having for you was pure joy. That will always make you so special. She is so very special to us too, but both of you in different ways.

Sometimes when Aubrey sleeps, I will just watch her in amazement. But sometimes I watch her because I'm still nervous we will lose her. I often check to see if her little chest is still rising up and down, and even when she sleeps well at night, Mama sets her alarm every three hours to make sure she is still okay. It still feels crazy to me that she arrived safely and continues to be healthy and alive. Like losing you, it just doesn't feel real.

We love her so very much. I know you would too. I continue to mourn that until we are all together again one day, I will never see you two play together as sisters. I see a lot of you in her. Especially when she sleeps so peacefully. I so wish you were here to teach her things. I know you'd be the best big sister.

I often wonder what Aubs will be like when she grows up. Mama is really interested in birth order and how that determines a person's temperament and personality. With Aubrey, though she is our second child, she is our first living one. I wonder if she will be more like a first born or more like a second born. Maybe she'll be some sort of hybrid :)

I hope you had a great first birthday my love. I know that the celebration you had in Heaven was so much greater than any first birthday party I ever could have planned.

I love you. I miss you. And this Brooklyn-sized hole in my heart still longs for you.

Love always,

Mama xo