a birthday letter

Dear Madelyn,

It's been a while since I wrote you a letter. I figured your birthday was probably a good time.

This past year has been hard without you, Maddie. I'm sure you've been able to see that. I'm sure you wanted to comfort me and tell me to keep going. I'm sure you wanted me to know that good things were coming, if I would just hold on. Sometimes it was hard to see that. Sometimes it got very dark.

But the thought of you could always bring home back to me. It doesn't matter if I never got to see you take your first breath, I knew you. And you knew me. And the love I have for you is something I can't explain. It seems silly to say too, that I feel like I have gotten to know you even more over the past year. But the tender mercies of the Lord are amazing, and I have been blessed with experiences I couldn't even begin to describe.

I still can't believe it's been a year since I held you. Sometimes I feel like it was yesterday. Sometimes I can hardly remember it all. But what stays constant is my love for you. I know you were there for me the night I wanted to give up. I felt you there as your daddy gave me a blessing. I felt you asking me to just hold on a little bit longer. Did you know then that I would be pregnant in a few weeks? I think you did. Because your presence brought a peace I can't describe.

I'm sad you're not here Maddie. I am sad that all I can do for your birthday is send a few balloons into the sky, instead of showering you with toys and cake and love. We all miss you so much. Friends and family sent cards and presents and flowers and beautiful, supportive words. Some even released balloons of their own for you! They all want you here too. It's hard to not get caught up in the "unfairness" of it all. But I am so happy that you get to escape this Earth. I am so thankful for an angel watching over us all.

Despite the way my heart still aches for you, I felt a peaceful happiness this weekend. Happy that I even got to hold you for 8 months. Happy to be your mother. Happy to be given this trial to overcome. Happy to be carrying your little brother or sister. Just happy that you ever existed. You changed my life Maddie Rose, in the most amazing way possible. Despite the tears I've cried over the past 365 days, I wouldn't change a thing. Had I known ahead of time how it would have all ended, I would have carried you every second of those 8 months all over again.

As we counted to 3 and sent the balloons up to you, I felt a calming peace. The tears rolled down my cheeks, but I smiled as I thought of you watching us send you those 6 white balloons. The wind was so crazy that they had to go sideways, before they went up, but it just made me laugh. I thought of the year and what I had learned. I thought of the new life growing inside me, and how you probably already know him/her so well. I thought about how much I love you. Nathan held me and said, "We made it through the first year!" Everyone says that's the hardest part. 

This past year, as I have wanted to desperately to hold you, I have held onto your father and held onto the Lord. It's been amazing to see the miracles that have happened; all because of you. I have grown as a person, and grown in my relationships with others. You have taught me more in the past year, than I could ever hope to learn in a lifetime. I always said that I didn't want losing a child to define me, but it has. Not in a negative way; in a beautiful way. So much life has sprung from death. It's taught me to always be looking for the miracles that could be hiding in the most unlikely places.

I can feel it get a little easier as time goes on. I cry less. I hurt less. I'm not angry anymore. The funny thing is, as time goes on, I love you more. You won't ever be erased or forgotten. I promise. Every year we will send you those balloons, and every day I will think of you. I only carried you with my for 8 months, but I'll carry you in my heart forever. I promise. Happy Birthday, sweet Madelyn. We love you. We miss you. We'll see you soon.

Love always, 
                Mommy