Dear Madelyn

Dear Madelyn,

I haven't written you a letter since your last birthday. I remember when I couldn't go a day without writing you. Three years is a long time. A lot has changed. But it also seems like it's been no time at all.

I feel like that quote I shared describes you perfectly. You were so small. So tiny. But you changed my entire life. You changed everything. You touched so many others during your short time here on earth. Your time here was short, but you left an impression that will never leave.

I remember how confused I was at the time you were taken away. We had felt SO strongly that it was time to start a family. I woke up in the middle of the night in July knowing that it was time to start. We had agreed we would wait until the fall, but I felt it so strong that I woke you up to tell your dad. After some prayers and thinking for a couple days, we started to try for a family. And what do you know? We were pregnant almost immediately. I felt that we were being blessed for the sacrifices we had made while your daddy had served the Lord. We were finally getting to have the baby we had talked about for years.

Then you were gone. And I had too many questions. Questions that hurt my heart. Questions that no one could answer.

Why had I felt so strongly that it was not only the time to start trying, but that we should start trying 3 months earlier than planned? Why had your dad felt the same way? Why had everything worked out so well and why did we get pregnant so quickly? Why did I have to carry the pregnancy for so long only to lose it? More importantly, why did I have to lose you at all?

Time goes on and it really does seem to heal things. I don't have all the answers, but the questions don't sting the way they used to. What does still sting is the what-ifs and the time lost. I had a much harder time on your birthday than I thought I would. Every time the emotions would consume me, it was when I would think about who you'd be today. You'd be 3. You'd be running and talking and learning so much. I wonder about who you would be quite often. What you would look like. What your personality would be like. I still think about all the time.

I also think about who I might be had I not gone through losing you. I would be less paranoid. Probably a little more optimistic. I would probably have a few less stress wrinkles. I wouldn't have a small piece of my heart missing. I might even be one of those people who doesn't assume the worst about every twinge and pain in pregnancy. But I also might not have the testimony I have today. I wouldn't have the deep rooted love for the plan of salvation and eternal families that I do. I wouldn't have the beautiful pain tying me to my savior and his sacrifice for me. I wouldn't have the deep connection I have with your daddy; a connection that can only come after you've been through hell together. I wouldn't have the appreciation I do for pregnancy and life and sweet little babies. I wouldn't have some of the friendships I have. The friendships that were forged through common pain. I wouldn't have the empathy I do for those suffering through similar things, and that empathy has brought me friendships and love and so many opportunities to serve.

I don't get to know who you'd be today. I don't get to see those tiny feet that changed my world grow bigger. But I get to carry the love I have for you forever. I get to continually learn more and more from your brief time here with us. And I get to become someone I wouldn't be had I not known you, loved you, and lost you. Things don't always make sense, but I believe we can always make sense of things.

Thank you for coming into my world 3 years ago, and changing me in ways I never knew I could change. Thank you for continually teaching me. I love you. I am so blessed to be your mother.

I love you. I miss you. I'll see you soon.

Love always,
 
          mommy