Gratitude Continued...

At Maggie's birthday party, I tried (and failed-- yes, I was crying too hard) to put my gratitude into words. So here's what I meant to say:

They say it takes a village to raise a child.

A year ago, I sat next to Maggie's incubator and I thought the worst. I looked at her fragile tiny body, and I'll admit it now: I thought my sweet baby was going to die. I thought I was going to have to plan a funeral. I thought I was going to have to quit my job, as I would never have the strength to care for another pregnant woman again.

But you all believed.

Every day, you all kept vigil with me. You called, and never once expected a phone call back. You sent flowers, gifts, food, prayers, and love. And never once asked for anything in return.

YOU are the reason Maggie survived. I don't know how she would have fought without you all. She got the best care available, had 24 hour life saving technology, MEDICINE kept her alive. Your LOVE made her thrive.

Thank you will never be enough. Thank you for letting me cry, for celebrating with me, for grieving with me, for letting me dance on the edge of reason sometimes, for talking me off the ledge at others, for laughing with me, for finding Maggie's beauty, for helping me tap into my own strength.

Thank you for being Maggie's village.

~Sara

Gratitude

At a little after midnight, I snuck into Maggie's nursery. She was sleeping so peacefully in her crib. I touched her face, her hair, her little hands. I remembered the first time I ever touched her: her tiny right foot, skin like saran wrap, warm in the incubator, surrounded by life saving machines, tubes, wires, gripped by fear. "Hi, I'm your Mommy...", I said that day.

Last night, I touched her soft skin, listened to her breathe, watched her face while she dreamed her little baby dreams.

Ever so quietly, I began to sing. Those of you that know me, know I have sung to Maggie EVERY day of her life. Sometimes silly songs, sometimes lullabyes. Last night, I got to sing my sweet baby "Happy Birthday". I sang it sweetly, through my tears of happiness and gratitude.

Maggie opened her eyes, looked right at me, and smiled her toothless grin.

I picked her up, and we sat in her rocking chair. I thought of all the nights I woke up missing her, all the nights I slept in that rocking chair waiting for her to come home to me. I thought of all the times at 3am that I got up and sat in front of her closet, praying that she'd get to wear all those tiny dresses.

Last night, I rocked my sweet baby, and sang her "Happy Birthday".

It is a song of gratitude to me now. "Happy Birthday to you. (Thank you.) Happy Birthday to you. (Thank you for saving my girl.) Happy Birthday Dear Maggie (Thank you, God.) Happy Birthday to you."

I am filled with profound gratitude.

~Sara