I met a brand new baby this week. Her name is Tahlia, and she is your cousin on your dad's side.
Darling Zy, when I held your cousin for the first time I had these awful stabbing pains in my chest. It was mainly grief, but then, for just a moment, I think there was envy. I think I had Baby Envy.
When you were born your body was not strong enough to work on it's own, so the doctors used lots of machines to keep it going for you. Then there were the tests - test after test after test after test - sometimes to monitor something, other times looking for something new, or something different, something that wasn't supposed to be there or something else that was missing.
You must have known the touch of plastic and steel better than the touch of the people who loved you.
For 24 hours you fought, your tiny body being pumped and poked and pricked and prodded, physically holding on by a thread but spiritually growing stronger and brighter with each passing moment.
Oh Zy, the whole time you were here all I wanted to do was hold you - but all I could do was watch.
It wasn't until I had to let you go, that I could finally hold you. As your body grew weaker, the doctors said it was time to leave you be - to stop pumping and poking and pricking and prodding - time to let you go. You were freed from the tangle of tubes and wires and released from the incubator that separated us for almost your lifetime, and as I held you to my heart, in the same moment, it was time to let you go.
Darling Zy, when I held your new born cousin and felt that stabbing pain in my chest, I don't think it was just any kind of baby envy that flickered across my heart.
Because I don't want to have just any baby, or hold just any baby.
I want you.
I want our happy ending.
Do you think that maybe, with enough time, I will see that we already have our happy ending? That it is just my perspective - my thoughts - that make it sad?
I hope so... Because you deserve a happy ending, Baby Warrior. We both do.
I guess it is just up to me to see it.