I admit it, I read their Mommy's blogs from beginning to end, weeping while my husband asked me "why on earth are you doing this to yourself?" I couldn't explain it but I knew that I couldn't stop. If the mothers of these children could possibly endure the pain of loosing their little ones,
even for a minute then I needed, for some reason, to share it. I read of premature births, of struggles in the NICU, of weight gained and then lost. Of huge leaps of progress and major milestones met, rejoiced in birthdays and first teeth and birthdays all the wh
ile knowing the end to the story. I laughed through my tears at the funny silly things our little ones do and say. I was thrilled to know that these little ones laughed and loved in their short lives. Every night I add these children to my prayers, and to the far too many I don't know of who are in the NICU now. Whose mother's and father's are hoping and praying and bargaining with God for the survival of their babies. It's unthinkable.
But I couldn't stop reading. The blogs unfurled like a really good book, fraught with obstacles, love, tears and great triumphs. I don't regret for a moment the time I spent reading and crying over these stories so beautifully shared and these beautiful lives lost so early. Through the blogs these children were truly alive for me, and while the pain of their loss is not mine to claim I do send their parents all my love and prayers and thank them for bei
ng brave enough to share with us.
Like many bloggers and tweeters I know and know of, I'm donating money in honor of one little angel. Madeline Alice Spohr, I can't walk in the March of Dimes walk this weekend, so I'll just have to write a check.
And now if you'll excuse me I have to ever so gently lean over Max's crib so as not to wake him and kiss him and smell his head. Cause seriously, his head smells amazing.
From the day he was born, my sweet miracle: