I don’t know why fate brought us together so soon, for neither of us are finished growing. You are still so small and fragile; I am still preparing myself to be your mom. I planned to read a few more books and learn how to crochet before you were born. Daddy planned to take me on a babymoon. I wanted to get your room ready; Grandma was supposed to show me how to fold crib fitted sheets. Oh, and then the business of the baby shower. I was going to wear yellow and show off my baby bump to all of our family and friends. All of that seems so unimportant now, so petty, and possibly even unnecessary.
I am not quite sure you are going to live. [Continue reading]