April 10th

My Dearest Virginia,

One year ago today, in the quiet and dark of an Atlanta spring morning, you entered this world. Small and fragile, wrapped in a pink blanket, your soul already gone, you were handed to your Daddy and me.

We had such little time with you, my darling girl - heartbreaking how little time. Those moments, though, are some of the most precious in my life: Being able to hold you, to pray for you, to read you a story. Having the chance to kiss you and wrap your tiny hand around my finger the same way your brother and sisters did upon meeting in the hospital. Given the chance to whisper through hot tears and sharp breaths how much you are loved and how sorry I was that I had to say goodbye. These are the memories I have of you here on Earth and memories that play over and over in my head.

Not a night has gone by that I haven't fallen asleep picturing your tiny body and beautiful, delicate face. I imagine how that face would have changed and developed over the past year. The pink cheeks in your newborn photos. The chubby cheeks during your first six months framed by the same curls your sisters had. The bright eyes watching all the chaos as the youngest of four.

Rarely do I see your siblings playing in those precious childhood snapshots that I want to remember forever and don't think "She should be here. This picture isn't complete."  You are missed so much and still such a large part of who we are as a family. Our love for you has reshaped us and redefined our priorities.

So a year has passed and we face April 10th again. With a heavy heart I brace myself for the anniversary of the terrible day that I lost you and the one priceless day that I had you. It feels fitting that it would be on Good Friday this year - when the world thought all hope was lost but the greatest joy was still to come. I know we will be reunited again, whole and perfect, in the presence
of our Savior.

In the few days after we left the hospital, three different friends reached out to me to let me know that on April 10th they had woken suddenly around 4:00 am with the strong urge to pray for us both. You were born suddenly and earlier than anticipated right after 4:00, covered in prayer and love by people who would never get the chance to meet you. And so it has continued this long year - with you being so deeply and desperately loved both her on Earth and in Heaven.

When we handed you to our nurses, who had been brisk and all business, the head nurse pushed my hair back from my face. She wiped my eyes, cupped my face, and lifted my chin to meet her eyes. With the most emphatic voice she whispered "She is your daughter. She will always be your daughter."

And she is right. You will always be mine, my darling girl. Always.

Until we meet again.
Love,
Momma