Happy Birthday, sweet girl. I’m sitting here with a lump in my throat, not sure what to say, but at the same time, not sure how I can cover everything I want to say to you. I can’t believe how quickly the past two years have gone. It seems like just yesterday that we were still waiting for your arrival, which was supposed to be months away.
So much has changed since you came into our world. The biggest change, of course, is Ian. He’s amazing, Jilly, and I don’t know where we’d be without him. He’s adorable, he’s hilarious, he’s smart, and he’s as sweet as can be. He has brought so much healing to Daddy and me, but I hate that you two will never know each other. Every time he does something new, I wonder what it would have been like to see you do all these new things. When his eyes sparkle as he smiles, I wonder if you would have been as joyful as he is.
We went out to dinner with one of your sets of grandparents last weekend, and while we were there, Ian set his sights on a little girl sitting at a table next to us. She was a little older than you, but as we watched them interact, I had to fight back tears, because I wondered if that’s how the two of you would have been together. I’m sure Ian would have adored you the way he adored this little girl.
I’ve had two dreams about you recently. In the first one, I was wearing my blue topaz ring – your birthstone – that I wear every day. I was talking to a little girl in my dream who was wearing a smaller version of my ring. I asked her if it was her birthstone, and she said yes. I asked when her birthday was, and she told me December 5. I woke up immediately, and then I was kicking myself because I realized as I woke that it was you. A few nights later, I had another dream about you, and though I can’t remember any details of the dream, I remember thinking in my sleep that I shouldn’t wake up. I have to believe that you’re visiting me.
We love you so much, baby girl. That hasn’t changed for one second. Even though our lives have gotten so much better, there’s not an hour that passes when my heart doesn’t ache for you. I just want to hold you again and feel the warmth of your little body. I want to give you a thousand more kisses and read you a hundred more stories. I want to sing to you and make sure you know that you’re the most loved baby girl in the entire world.
We miss you, Monkey. We’ll never stop missing you or wishing you were here with us. You are my heart.