Seven years

Dear Jillian,

Happy birthday, my sweet girl. Like last year, I feel like I’m at a loss for words. I’ve spent today reliving your birth. It’s a hard thing to relive because it was so scary, but it’s all I’ve been able to think about for most of the day. I keep thinking about the moment when I heard your tiny cries. I can’t hear them in my head anymore, but it’s a moment I will treasure for the rest of my life.

Ian is in kindergarten. That kid. He’s the most empathetic person I’ve ever known, which is amazing considering he’s only five. He loves music and reading, and he’s hilarious. I told him one night at bedtime that he makes me so happy, and he said “I try to make you happy every day.” He’s so special.

Hannah is three and my little ray of sunshine. She’s as stubborn as she is sweet. She started ballet classes a few months ago and I can’t even handle how adorable she is. Her laughter is magical. She gives the best hugs ever and she’s already proven that she can charm anyone into pretty much anything.

They are the best of friends. They love each other so much that they want to share a room. Hannah’s been sleeping on the bunk in Ian’s room for weeks, and one night I discovered them moving Hannah’s clothes into Ian’s room because they wanted to be in the same room. Sometimes I watch them together and think about what things would be like with you here. Sometimes I have to turn those thoughts off because it causes too much sadness.

I love you, Jilly. You will never be forgotten and my love for you will never stop. I miss you.

Love,
Mommy