I was so busy today that it almost slipped by me.
It was on this day, five years ago, that Brad and I were overcome by the horror and sadness that we hope to never, ever feel again. We lost our daughter, whom I still identify in my mind as "Zelda" since that was the name foremost in our minds at the time. There had been other miscarriages before and some after, but she was the one that hurt the most. We had seen her on the ultrasound. Heard her heartbeat. We had felt increasingly more confident she would survive my womb and become our child until June 4, 2004. Then hope was obliterated at nine weeks gestation. It took me years to believe in hope again. Lauren restored that hope. I am so grateful for that perfect child who is falling asleep in her crib right this minute. Every day that she is here, doing a silly dance, pointing to my nose, giggling, or even throwing a tantrum makes me more grateful.
Zelda, I am sorry I almost let the day go past without recognition. Thank you for trying so hard to survive. Thank you for showing us how much we needed to keep going. Thank you. I promise, you will never be forgotten.
