I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts. I want you to know that through my smiles and laughter, my longing and ache for you will always be and hurt just as much as it did that day we let you go. 

I don't know how or where I get the umph and will to get myself out of bed and out of our bedroom each day. I wake up rubbing and holding onto my tummy the same way I did when you were still growing inside me. I then rub my eyes and realize the reality of things; that's when my first dose of each day kicks in. Next, I look up and turn to the wall above our bed (this is where we proudly displayed your first photos from every doctor appointment). I smile with pride and pain. Proud that you are mine and pain because you are not physically with us anymore. I then look at your daddy. How he loves you so fiercely baby girl. He tries to be tough, strong and quiet but I know he's hurting so much for you too. I stare at myself before getting up and look for things on my body to remind myself that I indeed am a mother. 

I see my stretchmarks from when you were growing inside of mama. I see my 2 IV scars from when the nurses inserted a catheter into my veins to give mama medicine and fluids through. I feel the baby fat in my mid-section (something I'd normally dread) but am now so proud of carrying. For it reminds me that I was, did and able to carry you -- my beautiful baby. We sleep with your swaddle blanket every night and before getting up, I am sure to smell and squeeze it tighter each morning. I sometimes even pretend you're still wrapped inside to help ease me to sleep at night. We keep it in the middle of us. Then, I see your name tattooed on my left forearm. My first tattoo. I made this decision to remind me forever of your life and its testimony to my own. It serves as a daily, physical reminder that you are mine and I am yours. The last thing I do is walking up to your memory box (sometimes your dad & I walk up there together) and kiss the photos of your precious hands and feet. What I would give to do this for real. 

I miss you. 

I see butterflies everyday now since you've left. Today, I even saw a rainbow. I know that all these good, perfect, and beautiful things are all you. Thank you for showing me that though the circumstances are much different, that you hear me and are very much with me. Thank you for keeping your daddy and I strong. We're going to be needing your strength, light and love until we are together again. Thank you for bringing us peace when we visited our Doctor last week; it was like you were us the entire time. We knew you were there with us through her hugs, demeanor and sincerity. Thank you for showing up these last few days in the littlest ways -- we see you. 💕

The favorite part of my everyday is visiting you, bringing and arranging your flowers. We've been choosing florals in whites and different hues of pink - I hope you like them and laugh when you see mama taking forever at the flower district and dad trying to pretend that it doesn't drive him crazy. Thank you for being so beautiful- mama sees you everywhere.

The days fluctuate - I have good and bad ones. Today, for some reason hurt more than usual. Tears started to flow as soon as we got to your tiny spot. Daddy tried to talk and comfort me. Words wanted to come out but they just couldn't. I was wishing and dreaming that you were still inside of me and growing, I rubbed my tummy as I did this. Dad finally understood and wrapped his strong arms around me and placed his hands on top of mine on my tummy too. At that moment, something happened with the sun. It got a little brighter, a bit more bold and seemed to direct its' rays on us. There was a certain distinctness. The wind seemed to get the memo and blew stronger causing your flowers to dance so much. It was beautiful. We knew this was you. Thank you for showing us your spirit, your love and for being present in our everyday. We know this will be a journey, a lifelong process of learning to find the beauty amidst the pain. 

Thank you, Haven.