Miah and Hope

Dear Miah, 

I try to write you a note every year on your birthday. The writing is different than before- when you were here- it's more like 'Remembering'. You would be 6 years old today. The trees on our street are all turning beautiful bright colors, just how they were when we took you for a walk through the neighborhood. I was raking leaves off our front yard yesterday, and it reminded me of how your grandpa raked our leaves the morning of your funeral. So many things remind us of you, especially this time of year. As promised, you are still spoken of in our bedtime prayers, and present in every Christmas card. You are absolutely still a very real member of this family. You define so much of who we are. Your example reminds us how to be strong, and from what source strength comes. You remind us of our promises.  

There's this picture that Daddy gave me (oddly, we have it hanging up in the bathroom:-). It is a painting of a woman surrounded by angels. "She Will Find What is Lost," by Brian Kershisnik. I think people love this picture because of the woman. She is surrounded by those she can't see who love her and are eager to help her.  Mommy likes to look at this picture, not because of the woman, but for one particular angel. She's this young lady at the top of the painting with brown hair and brown eyes. She looks still and steady and wise. She reminds me of you. I love how she looks outside of the painting, right at me. She's the only one who does that. I've told you before that you are my Angel. I remember telling you that I thought, if angels watch over us- they would probably be people in our family like great grandmas and grandpas and our grandchildren not even born yet. Family is eternal, and we are all invested in each other's happiness and success. I still think that's true. And out of all the beautiful angels that watch over our family, you have become the one we can see. We know you're there- and that you depend on us to keep our promises. Sometimes, I get lazy, and I forget. Then I think, "You're not allowed to mess up. You've seen an angel. That's supposed to put you in a different category- one immune from doubt and despair. You know for sure."

I should tell you- last year, I felt sad. It started with a baby dying in mommy's tummy. When it happened, I expected all those sweet feelings of peace to come back like they did with you. I wanted to feel connected to my little baby, and feel all the influence just like I felt from you. I wanted surety. I wanted promises. But none of that came. It just plain felt sad, and empty, and alone. And I wondered what I had done wrong. 

There are lots and lots of people who have seen angels and forgotten. That's because it's not enough to just have a powerful experience with the divine, we need to remember. Then we have to add to those experiences, so that our faith remains current. The scriptures warn that, if we don't add to our experiences, we can lose even what we had. I love a story of a man named Alma. This is a guy who had intense experiences with the Atonement, angels, everything. But, when asked where his faith came from, he simply replied "I have fasted and prayed many days that I might know these things for myself. And now I do know of myself that these things are true." The 'things' he talks about knowing, undoubtably include 'I know for sure that the Creator of the Universe is mindful of me, that He is my Father, and He loves me.' I felt this truth profoundly when you were here. I remember how it felt to be so carefully loved. 

You provided an anchoring experience for our family. We know that Heavenly Father loves us. We know our Family is Forever. This is the plan of Happiness. There are countless 'angel moments', before and after you, that teach us these things are true. You don't make us immune from doubt,  but you are the experience always staring at us. We can't forget you. This is why I named our little baby "Hope". Hope is held up by experience- it is a kind of knowledge rooted in trust. Hope means knowing that you're not alone. When I look at that picture Daddy gave me, I now notice you holding a little baby. I honestly don't know if she belongs to us or not- I don't really know her- but I like the symbol of you holding on to our little Hope anyway. You keep Hope safe for our family. 

We love you so much. We miss you. It will be so nice when we are back together again.

Love, Mommy

Your Name, ending at the beginning

I have loved writing these letters to you, Miah, even though it was scary for me to share them. I loved how these little notes gave others a glimpse of your sweet personality. It was so fun to watch you after you were born, and realize that I already knew you. I was not surprised at all that you chose not to complain when you were uncomfortable. I was not surprised that you liked cuddling, and people singing to you. I certainly wasn't surprised that you enjoyed visitors who came to hold you. At times, it seemed to me that you were holding on to life so that you could meet just one more person. You would coo and gurgle in their arms, like you were trying to tell them a million important things in the few moments you had with them. I wonder what you were trying to say.

I have already told about the scripture that inspired your name- Jeremiah 1:5.

"Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee, and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee..."

As I watched your life, I came to realize the following 2 verses were equally appropriate:

"Then said I, Ah, Lord God! Behold, I cannot speak: for I am a child.

But the Lord said unto me, Say not, I am a child: for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee

thou shalt speak."

Without words, you spoke to hundreds of people. I'm not fully aware of what you taught them, but I know you did it bravely and honestly and quietly. I suspect that those lessons were very personal and individual. In a very intimate way, you taught me about the nature of God. Your lessons, over and over again, taught me that God is not some airy formless thing that watches over the universe as a whole. He is real. You have taught me that He watches over me with even more intensity and carefulness than I did the 120 1/2 hours I watched you without sleeping. He cries over me when I struggle with more compassion than I cried over watching you struggle for breath. There have been times, that I didn't recognize before, when He held me with more tenderness and commitment than I did when you died in my arms. And He looks forward to my coming back to him with even more ache and anxiousness than I feel for you, my precious baby girl.

I wrote these letters, even though it was really scary, because you couldn't. I believe you had things to speak and teach. I know that you wanted to visit everyone, but you couldn't. I hope that I said things right...the way you wanted them to be said- honestly and bravely. This being your last letter, I need to say again that I am so proud of you. You lived a perfect life. I assure that you will never be forgotten or overlooked by your family. You will be a part of every Christmas card. You will be mentioned in every bedtime prayer. You are forever a member of our family and we love you.

Cake and Sunflowers

The day of your funeral (October 24th, your due date) was beautiful and sunny. Mommy woke up extra early to make you a giant birthday cake. It was pink, yellow, blue, purple, green, and every other cheerful color you can think of! I made it five tiers high to celebrate each of the 5 days and 5 nights you spent with us. I actually had to get up on a stool to decorate the very top of your cake, it was so tall! Lots of people bustled around me in the kitchen to warm soup, and water pretty flowers, and decorate cupcakes- all there to get ready for your celebration!
Mommy left for the cemetery with Grandma and Grandpa at 10:30 to put you in your pretty birthday dress. Grandma and Grandpa dressed you while I was sitting just outside the door. I hope you don't think that I didn't join them because I was scared or because I don't love you as much as they do...It's just that, next time I see you and hold you, it needs to be forever. Letting you go once was the hardest thing Mommy has ever had to do; and I knew I couldn't be that strong twice. I know that your Grandparents were very careful with your sweet body. I know that they held you close and rocked you and made sure you looked beautiful in your dress and bonnet. They wrapped you in the same pink knitted blankie that you snuggled in after you were born, and laid you in your little bed for burial. We put your casket in Mommy and Daddy's car and drove the short distance to your grave. (No way was I going to put you in a giant dark hurst...you never left my sight while you were alive, I didn't see why your death should be any different).
Your grave sits on top of a mountain, and looks over the valley where we live. That day, the mountains were covered in all the fall colors. The sky was clear blue. All the raindrops left over from Friday sparkled on the ground and in the trees when they mixed with the sunshine. We even covered your grave in bright yellow sunflowers. It was a perfect day. Lots of friends and family came to say goodbye to you. Your big sister mostly kissed all the little babies, and mixed up the flowers and toys from other graves. Bishop talked about Heavenly Father and Jesus, and how you live with them now. Special prayers were offered in gratitude that we were given so much time with you. Your Mommy's favorite song was sung by good friends, to remind us that death is not forever. The song talks about Mary at the tomb of Jesus. She is crying because his body is gone. Jesus, who is alive again in his body comes to her and asks "Woman, why weepest thou?" Why seekest thou the living among the dead? Know ye not that angels now surround thee?
After friends gave us lots of hugs and left, Daddy and Grandpa slowly and carefully lowered you back into your Mother Earth. They then took shovels and covered your tiny white coffin with soil....I'm very glad they could do that instead of strangers. At the end, both their pants were covered in dirt and shoes caked in mud. Mommy thinks that they looked very pretty and glowey afterwards, even though they were dirty.
We came home to a house full of people who love you. There were balloons and flowers and lots of treats! Everyone was laughing, and playing, and talking. We lit candles and sang happy birthday, and your cousin Jaime blew out the candles for you! It was a very sweet, perfect day. I wonder if you were able to get away for a moment, to take a peak. I miss you.

Miracle Miah

Tuesday, Your Heavenly Homecoming

Your friend Robin came over to visit at 3 AM. Sonya was awake, so she cuddled her and read her stories in her crib. She held you, and helped to dip your footprint in plaster, and then Sonya's, so that you and your sister can have a sweet reminder of being together. Sonya simply adores you, you know. She begs to hold you every few minutes. She constantly kisses you and strokes your little fuzzy head. She even tries to give you a pacifier, her most treasured possession. (Even now that you are gone, she puts her pacifier up to your lips in our family pictures).
Many more friends came to visit you today, and feel your angelic spirit. Karen, the special girl who took your picture in the hospital came to hold you for the first time. She said that meeting you was life-changing experience. I believe you have change the lives of hundreds of people. Our neighbors from across the street came to meet you and they were instantly in love, as are all those who had the privilege.
At 6:26 PM, we celebrated your 5th Birthday! It was an absolute miracle that you had been with us for so long. We invited over the Taylors and the Morgans to party with us, so you had lots of friends and babies singing to you. Mommy put a giant pink birthday bow on your head. Everyone held you with lots of hugs and kisses. Everything was so happy!
You died in Mommy's arms at 7:09 PM. Mommy was the only one who noticed, but I didn't say anything for a few moments because it was so peaceful and effortless. I like to imagine that you waited until Mommy and Daddy had friends close by...you didn't want us to be sad. In a way, I also think you didn't want to leave when you were the center of attention. Sonya kissed you bye-bye, and Daddy held me close as we cried. Your friends took turns coming into the room to tenderly hold your body and say goodbye.
Mommy held your little body so tight for 3 hours after you went to heaven. I couldn't let you go- I just couldn't let you go. I cried and cried; feeling so blessed to have had you so long, but not knowing how I was ever going to be able to leave your side. The Absolute Hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life was lift you into Daddy's arms and watch him carry you downstairs...knowing I would not get to hold you again for a very very long time. Daddy was so strong! He gave your little broken body to two nice men in suits and watched you drive away from our home. Daddy did something I never could have done. He came back up to me and collapsed as my feet, so heartbroken...and so grateful that you were our daughter. We held each other and cried with happiness for hours.
Around Midnight, a knock at the door revealed a display of lovingly lit candles and a picture of our family.
OUR FOREVER FAMILY

Monday, the Nineteenth

Your first night sleeping at home was so much better than the hospital. Daddy and I laid you between us on a giant fluffy purple pillow, and snuggled on both sides of you. We had our arms around you all night and, again, I simply could not go to sleep. You were just so beautiful, I simply couldn't close my eyes for fear of missing one gurgle or coo.
You had tons of special visitors today. Everyone wanted to be near you, and hold you. Cliff was one of your very sweet visitors who loved you even before you were born. His little baby boy died many years ago, and he said that Baby Cliff was the glue in his family- never overlooked or forgotten. He made his little family try extra hard to live lives worthy of Heaven. I thought you would get along well with Baby Cliff, so we set up a playdate for when we're all in Heaven together.
At 6 PM, we took a family walk outside to show you all the fall colored leaves. The sun was setting and it made the sky pink and yellow. I think you enjoyed all the crispy fresh air and pretty colors. We got back home just before your 4th birthday. We prepared a bottle of milk with a little flat candle on top. Everyone sang you happy birthday.
More visitors came tonight and loved you. The Pearson family brought you flowers, and even held tight your sister Sonya so she wouldn't feel left out. You are so loved!

Sunday, Homecoming

We brought you home today. We drove with me holding you tightly in my arms...You were way too tiny for a car seat, and I couldn't bare to put you down. Walking into the door and welcoming you home felt so warm and right. All your family snuggled and kissed you. Sweet visitors Shirley, Taryn, Becca, Robin, Briton, and Diane came to hold you in all of your adorableness. It was very sweet: these visitors said that you had a such a strong and special spirit. You were a celestial being with one hand in Heaven and the other on Earth. I feel that, during the countless scary times we waited for you to breath, it was when Heaven was tugging a little harder for you to come home. I wonder if you may have gotten into a little bit of trouble with Heavenly Father for not coming home on time. I hope he understands.
All of the visits you received while you were alive made me understand that your life and birth was much bigger than just our family. Friends said that, because of you, they held their own babies a little bit tighter and said 'I love you' a little bit louder. You have helped people to re-believe in miracles.