Happy 3rd Birthday Buddy...

Dear Noah,

Happy 3^rd birthday buddy!  I wonder what you are doing today in Heaven to celebrate.  Do you have cake in Heaven?  Is there ice cream too?  Do all the little kids who left this earth too soon celebrate with you? 

I so wish I knew what your last 3 years have been like.  I guess they must have been wonderful, I have been told Heaven is like the greatest place we can dream about, so I hope its been that way for you.    With each year that I celebrate your birth, I sadly miss you more.  Dad and I lay in bed at night at talk about what life would be like to have you, at 3 years old running around our house.  I wonder if you’d have the same amount of energy your oldest brothers had when they were 3.  Or if you’d be more like Madelyn’s personality, mellow, inquisitive and able to play quietly.  Dad and I lay in bed and while I dream what life would be like, Dad goes back to the moment he got to hold you on his chest.  He tells me he can still feel the sensation of you on his skin.

 We talk about how strong you were, even in those final days, that you wanted to pick your head up and turn it towards dad’s voice, it’s just that the tubes keeping your lungs full of air wouldn’t allow you to turn so freely.   Now you have so restraints, nothing to hold you back.  Your freedom, my sadness, but I’d rather suffer every day to know you never have to endure pain again.

I often see little boys and guess if they are around your age and wonder what you would be like.  What color hair would you have?  Would you have blue eyes or brown?  Would you reach up to grab my hand as we leave the grocery store or would you race out in front of me.  Just some of the millions of questions I wonder about.  Questions with no answers. 

Noah, I can still remember the night you were born like it was only a few months ago.  I remember how scared I was that you were coming so early and we worried how you would survive labor.  But you did and even a tiny cry from you reassured me you were determined to stay.  Oh what I’d give to go back and record that moment.  Dad and I were in so much shock, we forgot to take pictures after you were born and those first moments while they worked on you to keep you alive.  

oh to touch those fingers again...

I remember seeing you for just a quick moment before they raced out of the door and to your only home here, the NICU.  I remember the wheelchair ride up the three floors to meet you officially, how tiny you looked but oh so full of life.  I remember my heart filled with so much love it hurt.  Your body was perfect, so small but perfectly formed in every way.  

The doctors and nurses said you were a fighter, a feisty one, that those were good qualities to have.  Noah, I remember being wheeled back down to my recovery room in antepartum and wanting nothing more than to return to your side.  I waited just a few hours and walked myself up there alone, oh the hospital halls are quiet at 3 am.  

I stood by your bedside and I whispered I love you’s over and over.  Just you and me, our moments  together. 

Noah I will always cherish the 12 days we got to spend together, the 2 am diaper changes and feedings, I tried to make every one, no matter how tired I was.  

I always believed in my deepest core that I’d get to bring you home.  Maybe it was my naive heart, maybe it was my hopeful heart.  Life didn’t go the way I wanted, pleaded, prayed or hoped.  I feel forever guilt I could not save you and keep you growing inside of me.  Noah, I am sorry I couldn’t give you the life you so deserved to have here.  As  much as I miss you and wish you were eating the birthday cake we made for you, I hope you know your life had great  purpose, huge meaning and in your short time here, you changed this world for the better.

So much love and kindness entered into the world because of you.  So much was shared with us.  To know your life mattered is healing for my heart and so today we honor you, we celebrate your life, by trying to do what was shown to us… Kindness matters, kindness is powerful, kindness gives hope.  Today we volunteer our time, share gifts, think of others the way so many thought of us… to celebrate you.  Your Life. 

Noah, while I don’t get to give you a birthday kiss or help you open your gifts, I hope you can feel just how much we love you.  I’m not sure what a birthday in Heaven looks like, but I think if I’d have a say there’d be lots of love, celebration and rainbows.  Keep sending us those  signs  that  you are near… we watch for them and find comfort in how perfectly time so many of them are. 

Noah, may you always know you are one of the greatest gifts in my life.  May you never stop feeling my love.  Happy 3^rd birthday buddy. 

Love you always and forever,

 Mom and Dad