Dear Harper,

Happy 1st birthday, sweet girl.

It doesn’t seem real that it has been an entire year since I held you for the first, and the last, time. I know that your first year in heaven has surely been amazing, but it has been so difficult down here without you. The waves of grief continuously crash down on me each day- some days softly and other days like tsunami waves. Most of the time I feel like it was all a horrible nightmare… did I really carry you for 38. 5 long weeks, only to lose you days before your due date? Did I really experience the pain of labor, only to deliver your body lifeless, quiet, and still? Did we really prepare the perfect nursery for you in our home, only to lay you in a tiny casket to be buried?

I often wonder what our lives would be like if you hadn’t gone home to Jesus so soon. How would you interact with your siblings? What would your smile look like? What would your little personality be like? What color would your eyes be? I feel so incredibly robbed of the chance to raise you, to mother you, to form a relationship with you. And although I know deep in my soul that this life on earth is but a moment compared to life in eternity...it still feels like forever.

I have tried my very best to keep your memory alive- to make sure your siblings remember their sister, your grandparents remember their granddaughter, and our friends remember the sweet girl they will never get to know. I have tried to mother you from afar the best way I know how-visiting your grave with fresh flowers, filling our home with the memory of you, honoring you in the way I interact with others, and sharing your story with anyone who will listen.

So until I can hold you in my arms again, I will continue to press on… to miss you, to remember you, to honor you. And like I whispered to you before they closed your casket for the last time- “I love your baby girl. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Happy birthday.

Love,

Mama