The day Daphne was born, her cousin was born at 20 weeks and died in his mother's arms.
Every month on the 18th, the day they were born, I pray for Stefanie, knowing that my baby is another month older and her baby is so far away in heaven.
How blessed we are that our daughter thrives. My heart breaks for the mothers and fathers who have lost children. Tears are falling down my cheeks as I write this, because it seems so unfair, so horrifyingly tragic.
In one second, this blog could become a memorial to Daphne rather than a celebration of her progress.
Since she was born, I am one of those crazy moms who checks to make sure she is still breathing in her crib. I envision grisly car wrecks, I picture her choking, I live in fear of SIDs.
But, I have no control over this. Whether God decides that Daphne has fulfilled her purpose here or not is not for me to decide. When Jon and I first started this journey, especially when we miscarried the first baby, we found out how none of this is in our hands. We have to trust God every single day.
Parenting is terrifying because it is so absolutely precious. She is so absolutely valuable, and our lives would be empty without her. I have to trust Him with what is so precious to me, I have to know that she is worth more to Him than I can imagine, so much that He gave His life for her.
I have to let go and simply enjoy the time we have, because I don't know how long it will really be.
Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion,
which cannot be moved, but abides forever.
As the mountains surround Jerusalem,
so the Lord surrounds his people,
from this time forth and forevermore. - Psalm 125:1,2