The day you went to Jesus
It’s been 5 months since your day 5. On the night of day 4, we kept you with us in our bed because we just knew your time was growing short. Your sisters flanked me in bed and I let them fall asleep, each with a hand on you. Your daddy got up around midnight to get you some food and pushed the syringe of my milk one more time through your feeding tube, slowly, methodically. We moved Piper to the bed on the ground and settled in again, you propped up on my chest, snuggled into my green robe. I found a spot where I could rest with my hands still holding the robe tight around you, but not too close to your face. Somehow, I fell asleep to your tiny body rising and falling under my chin with my breaths. I firmly believe God woke me up at 3:45am. I watched you. No breath…no breath…no breath. It was so long before you breathed AGAIN. I tapped your daddy. “She’s still breathing, but I think it’s getting close.” I leaned forward to peel you off my chest, to lay you on my inclined lap, so...