One month birthday

Dear Case, 

When your sister celebrated her monthly birthdays, I always wrote her a letter.  You're my baby too so I intend to do the same for you.  

I look back on where we were one month ago today.  I had just been moved to long term bed rest in the hospital and then my water broke.  An hour later, you entered the world crying, just as any baby should.  I remember turning to Seth right before you were born and telling him that you were going to be alright.  I said it because I hoped it would be true; not because I knew it would be.  But then you were born and you cried.  I felt so much better about your chances of survival.  As the days went on, we were told how big you were, how strong you were, how "mature" you were for a 28 week preemie.  Never did I imagine you would be gone just a few short days later.  Never did I imagine that an incredibly common bacteria would take your life.

But here we are a month after your birth.  I miss you so very much.  We all do.  Many days are very difficult emotionally.  I know you're gone.  I know you're not coming back.  But I also know that you're always going to be with me in spirit.  I know you'll always be in my heart and on my mind.

Today we received your ashes.  Some were put in to a heart locket for me to always keep.  The rest are in a small bag for us to spread or bury.  It breaks my heart that you're "home" now but in this form.  Your first car ride was not in a car seat, but rather in a small white box.  Your first trip through the front door was not cradled in my arms, but carried in a bag.  I really wish you could have come home the way most babies do.  

The hospital gave us a keepsake box.  I will always treasure the things inside of it.  They made handprints and footprints, cut some locks of your hair, and included some things you had at the hospital.  We have your hat, ID band, the card from your isolette, biliband, and a few other things that were yours.     
 
The day after you passed away, I dreamed of our final moments together.  Your spirit had already left your body but you were still in the room.  The holy spirit came to you and took you by the hand.  He told you that your heavenly father was waiting for you.  Although I wish you were in my arms, it's comforting to know that you are in his.  

Many loved ones attended your memorial service.  There was not a dry eye in the room.  I hate that so few people were able to meet you while you lived.  I really hate that your big sister never got the chance to see you in person.  I know she wishes you would have come home.  We're teaching her about your new home now; heaven.  She still says she's a big sister.  I always tell her, "Yes, you are a big sister."  She will always be a big sister because of you.  She loves you just as a big sister should.  A few days ago, she told me that she wished you were coming home because she wanted you to wear baby clothes.  I'm sure she would have loved helping me dress you.  She remembers singing to you in the hospital but won't sing the song again for me to record.  I hope she eventually will because it was a song she made up, just for you.  The only lines I remember are "I love you, baby brother." and "Goodnight, sweet dreams."  

I thank God for giving us 10 wonderful days with you.  What a blessing that you were so alert on our last day together.  I really felt like we connected more on that day than ever before.  I think about the first time I held you and the first time I kissed your sweet head.  I think about the softness of your hair and the strength of your tiny little arm.  While our last moments together often creep in to my head, I mostly think about our wonderful moments together.  Thank God for those happy moments.

Happy one month birthday, sweet boy.