*may contain details you don’t want to read…
I have four daughters. Sometimes I say I have three because it is easier
, but I always wish I was brave enough to say four. I’m not brave though
. Sometimes when I talk about her, I cry, and my heart feels like it is being crushed by an anvil. Other times I can’t stop the smile that brightens up my face, and my heart feels like it has wings, and I fly away to see her.
Her name is Chloe Michelle.
We gave Gracie her middle name, and there is something really special about knowing that Gracie will always have a part of the big sister she never got to meet. You see, when Chloe was just shy of four months old, she died in her sleep. I found her, lips and feet blue, lying on her stomach. As I began CPR on my dead baby, with tears streaming and heart pounding, everything faded away except for her. I called out to God, begging Him to breathe life back into her small body. I believed He could do it. He could save her. But He didn’t. He had a different plan than the one I thought was best. They called it crib death, or SIDS, and assured me there was nothing I could have done. But I was her mama, so of course I always wonder if I could have changed it.
It’s been twelve years since I was given Chloe to love. September will be twelve years since I held her last. I think about her every day. I wonder things, and I wish I knew answers to questions I have about her. My heart still breaks, and sometimes I weep with missing her. Sometimes I will smell something, or hear something, and be instantly transported back to the days when I could hold her and rock her. Sometimes, I sit, with my hand holding a necklace I wear made of a material that is heavy and warm, given to me in honor of her, and I smile. I will always have precious memories inside that only she and I share. Those memories come forward and all I can think is, “I am so lucky”.