Happy 1st Birthday in Heaven!

 Sept. 18, 2016

Dear Dakota,

One year ago, at this very hour, I felt my first contractions. Those contractions would eventually bring you into our world for a few short hours. Precious hours. Too few hours. We only had less than a day with you, and it wasn’t enough.

Tomorrow, you will be celebrating your first birthday in heaven. I know there is no place more perfect to celebrate, so I am happy for you. But my heart is also torn in two. Here I am, sitting on the couch with your baby sister by my side. She probably wouldn’t be here if you were still here. But she can’t replace you or the memories I had hoped to make with you.

When Papi and I found out we were pregnant with you, we couldn’t wait to tell our families. We had been praying for you for 2 years, and we were so excited that our family of 3 was growing to a family of 4. Jaden was looking forward to being a big brother, and I was looking forward to all the baby snuggles I could get.  We didn’t know what the future held.

On the day we found out that you were a boy, we were also told some very bad news. We didn’t know how bad it was at the time, but you had no amniotic fluid. The doctors said that your sweet little lungs would never develop into healthy-oxygen-rich lungs so you could fill our ears with your powerful cries.

On the day you were born, instead of silence though, we heard a miracle with our very own ears. Though it was weak, we heard your cry. I savor the video where I can hear your voice. It was but only for a few minutes, but we praise God for those sweet moments. In your cry, I could hear you saying “Hi Mommy. Hi Papi. Hey big brother. I’m here. I can’t stay long, but I wanted to say hello.” You had no idea how much we needed to hear you. But, we also heard your “goodbye.” In your last breaths, we said goodbye to each other. Our only hope was knowing that one day we would meet again. As I held you in my arms, and set your head on my shoulder and snuggled your body, I knew it was the only time I would be able to snuggle you… to hold you in my arms… to smell your sweet skin… to feel your soft baby hair. I knew Jesus had you in his arms, but it didn’t make my arms feel any less empty.

A year has gone by since that day, and a lot has happened. Many tears have been shed for you, but I know you have also seen the many smiles. God has blessed our family with your baby sister. She is here. She is healthy. And she is already 7 weeks old. Every day that goes by, I can’t help but think that she was our gift from you. I think that while you were sitting on Jesus’ lap, you said, “My Mommy needs a baby to love and to hold. Can you give her the most perfect little girl so her heart can heal?” And, you know what? Jesus heard you. He heard our prayers. He used you to change our hearts and He used Carmen to heal them.

I wish so badly we could have taken you home from the hospital, fed you in the wee hours of the night, and changed countless diapers. I wish we could have seen your smile and watched you learn to roll over. I wish I could have been there for the moment you became mobile and crawled across the room. I wish I could hold your hand as you took your first steps. But I am comforted by the knowledge that Jesus is holding my hand as he holds yours. Through Him, we are still connected, and will one day see each other again.

I hope your 1^st Birthday in heaven is as special as we would have tried to make it here. I hope you and Grandpa Boender are celebrating together. We are going to dress like pirates and eat Krispy Kreme and remember you for your 1^st Birthday. We are going to celebrate your life and the sweet moments you were here with us. Mommy and Papi love you so much. And your big brother still misses you. He wants to go to heaven to see you. And I can’t wait to tell Carmen all about you when she is a little older. She is our rainbow after the storm… the dark days after you were born and we had to say goodbye. She helped to bring the sunshine back into our lives. So much of her is because of you. We all love you forever!

Love,

Mommy