Our first baby girl was born 15 years ago today. Her name was Bree. She was perfect, and beautiful, but so very tiny. Too small to survive. I don't know if she had blue eyes like Brady, or green like Lauren and her dad, or brown like Brooke. Or maybe she would have had hazel eyes like me. I don't know if she would have loved music, or sports, or reading, or animals or art. I do know that she had the cutest feet, and I'm sure she would have had little dimples on her lower back, right above her butt, just like the other kids. I also know she was loved. We loved her with everything we had, and wanted so badly for things to have worked out. But I knew in my heart and in my head that they would not. I am so very thankful I had two weeks to prepare for her birth, knowing it would also be the only time I would have with her.
Having this experience taught me many things. Life doesn't always go the way you think it is supposed to. Life can seem very unfair. You also never know what others are going through at any given time. Because when stuff like this happens, the world doesn't stop. It seems like it should, but everything else and everybody else just keeps going along with everything. So at any given moment, there are people in turmoil, or experiencing grief - either loss of a person, or maybe the loss of what they thought their life would be like, or just struggling in general to get through the day, and many of us never know it, so I always try to be kind and understanding at all times.
I really have the most wonderful life. I know this. Through the grace of God (and skilled doctors and cervical sutures), we now have Lauren and Brooke, too. I get to be home with my kids, and I am very grateful. They drive me crazy at times, but that's their job.
So, happy birthday baby girl. See if Grandma Dodie will share a Coca-Cola with you today. Tell her I said it's okay.
