5 months

I stopped writing a lot about Avery and my feelings towards losing her for numerous reasons. The first being, it is a very personal and sacred issue. That's not to say that I don't want to share my feeling about her with people, but posting it for the world to see is a little different. Also, I tend to be a little more private, and it's hard for me to let people see too far into my struggles and pain. Consequently, I post little about my feelings, but I've diverted those thoughts into letters to Avery. They're more of an outlet for me and they've become my means of a journal. Wednesday, Avery would be 5 months old. I know 5 months doesn't seem like much of a milestone to most, but for us there are two days out of the months that hit us hard. On the 19th of every month, we think how old she would be and wish we had her with us, and on the 5th of every month, we gage how long we have been without her. I tend to write my letters to her on those days.
I am grateful to all those who are so concerned for us. Thank you for loving my family so much. I decided to post my latest letter to Avery because I've been told I'm hard to read and I know that friends and family probably want an honest update, besides the typical, "I'm fine."


Dear Avery,
Today you would be five months old. If things had turned out how we had all anticipated, I’m sure I would still be complaining about being up with you all night and how tired I am all the time. I’d probably be complaining about how much you still pooped or spit up and because of that, how much extra laundry I am doing. I know I would be complaining about having to feed you all the time and how inconvenient it is when we’re out of the house. I’m sure I’d be tired of asking Kate and Kara to wash their hands all the time before touching you and then carrying you around the house like you were their doll. I’m sure I would be frustrated about not having enough hands to make sure that everyone crosses the street safely. But as you and I both know, our journey has taken a very different path. Perspective has changed. I wish I was tired from being up all night with you. I wish I was frustrated from you fussing because you were teething. I wish it were hard to go on an outing with 3 little kids. I wish you were annoyed all day by your sisters’ hugs and kisses. But in God’s infinite wisdom, which I know to be perfect, and his divine love, which I believe to be deeper that I can ever imagine, we have not been afforded those luxuries right now. There are so many things that are still confusing and frustrating about what happened, but the knowledge and faith that you were sent to us and were taken from us by divine design is not one of them. I’m still confused about why there had to be so many complications and why you had to lay on that little bed for 5 weeks without anyone being able to hold you. I hope you knew that we were there with you…everyday…all day. I hope you knew that it was us who was rubbing your head, squeezing your hands, and kissing wherever we could that wasn’t covered with tape and tubes. My heart still breaks whenever I see new babies being born and their sibling being so proud of their new little baby brother or sister. I see them hug them and kiss them, and it breaks my heart to know that your sisters don’t get to do that right now. It just doesn’t seem right. Your memory sure isn’t forgotten around here though. Your sisters fight almost daily about what is yours and what is theirs. Kate is always asking if you will do this or that, or wear this or that when we’re with you again. They talk about going swimming with you and want to make sure that you wear the same swimsuit they did when they were a baby. I hope they get the chance to do that with you some day.
Sometimes I laugh at myself thinking how pathetic I must look to you. I’m sure you’re laughing thinking, ‘pull yourself together mom!’ It’s just hard to keep the right perspective all the time. I know it shouldn’t be, but such is life right? But every once in a while, when my mind is clear and the Spirit is near, I understand perfectly that we are the lucky ones. You were larger than life and we were the ones that got you, no matter how short the time, and we will be with you forever. You were sent to be with us, and because of you, our lives have changed and we are better. Thank you for teaching me all that you have and for continuing to teach me everyday. Thank you for teaching me the purity and power of the human spirit. Because of you, I will be better. I love you.

Mom