My sweet Alden,
Tomorrow morning we will be meeting you as you are taken from my body by the doctor who brought us so much comfort during your pregnancy.
She was the one who found the cause of your big sister’s death. She, for lack of better explanation, probably saved your life. I cannot wait to see her take you from my body, and hear your cry. I’m pretty sure we will all cry as well.
You are so wanted, and I believe you know that. I want to thank you for moving all day today, and this past week. You’ve made this a little easier on my sanity. Your dad and I are so wound up and anxious; we just need you here in our arms, screaming bloody murder. Your dad is more worked up than I am, if that’s possible. I can’t wait to see him holding you and giving you kisses. He is the best daddy, just wait- you’ll see.
I will always wish your sister and you could play and grow together, but I know she is with us. She gave me plenty of signs today!
I picked up my phone at 10:32, and it just happens to be Tuesday; she was born on a warm Tuesday in December at that time.
I walked into my closet this afternoon and the shirt I was wearing when I learned she was gone literally fell from the closet onto my back. A friend says that is her telling me that she’s got my back through this and I believe that 100%.
I cannot wait to see your beautiful face, and to see the look on your brothers face when he meets you for the first time. There is going to be no greater joy in my life than that moment.
I can’t wait to love you on the outside!
I love you more than you could ever know,