Just Incase He Can Hear Me . . .

Sometimes I wish I could talk to Gavin. I wish I could tell him everything I feel and how much I love him. If he can hear me I think my letter to him would go something like this. . .

Dear Gavin,
My sweet Baby Gavin. I am so glad we picked this name for you. Your first name had been your daddy's favorite name for a long time - even before we knew you were a boy. And your middle name, James . . . that is a strong and faithful name in your momma's family. It fits you well, doesn't it?

Gavin, I don't know if you know how much we wanted you. How anxious we were for you. You should have seen the look on your daddy's face when I told him I was pregnant. I remember crying on my knees to our Heavenly Father asking Him to please let me keep you. I wanted you so much. That night we thanked Heavenly Father for you and our new little family. This was long before I really knew you Gavin. Oh, how you would change my life.

July 27, 2007 - that's your birthday Bug! It was a day filled with a plethora of emotions. I remember the first time I saw you. You were silent, Buggy. It scared me. The nurses told me you were okay, but I knew it wasn't true. Babies cry and move when they are born and you did neither. They took you away Gav. Your daddy tried to follow you but had to come back to momma's room. Then the hardest part came. A very kind nurse came to tell us that you weren't healthy. "We don't really know what is wrong," she said. Your daddy dropped to his knees and sobbed. And Gavy, even though I was heartbroken I felt peace. I knew that we would do whatever you needed.

The first time I saw you laying in your NICU bed it scared me. Your small 5 pound body was hooked up to wires and monitors. You had an IV in your sweet little forehead which made your eyes swell up. You still didn't cry, my baby. You laid so straight in you NICU bed, but gradually you started kicking your legs. Your daddy gave you a priesthood blessing that night. Do you remember that Gavy? He blessed you with a strong body, mind and spirit. We had hope Gavin. We were praying for our miracle.

Most of all Gavin, I want you to know that we received our miracle. It is you. We found out after you left us that you shouldn't have lived those three months. You are such a good son. I know you were tired. I still remember looking into your eyes late in August and hearing the words, "Momma, I am so tired." We had faith to heal you son, but that was not your plan. You have taught us and given us a more purposeful existence. You have taught me what pure love feels like. I miss you Gav. It's hurts to not touch you or hold you. I miss the peace you radiated from your little crib. I miss you holding on to my finger and on occasion staring into my eyes telling me, "It won't be as bad as you think it will be momma." I drive by to see you every single day to tell you I love you - I have not missed a day. Do you ever hear me? But Gavin, for as much as I hurt, I have peace because sometimes I can hear you. I can hear you whisper, "Momma, I am not that far away."

I will write again soon Bug. Please know that I love you.

Love,
Your Momma