A letter to my angel babies

It's January 29, 2012.  Eight years ago today our family made the hardest decision we've ever had to make.  We had to let our babies die.  Brynleigh Belle and Victoria Grace were born July 25, 2003.  They were 2 months early.  They were tiny.  They were broken.  They were a miracle!  During the 6 months prior to withdrawing life support, we watched helplessly as they struggled to survive with the conjoined body they were given.  We listened to their shared, malformed heart beat through the monitors, heard the swish and pump of the ventilator, the beeping when their blood oxygen levels were too low.  It was constant.

They lived and died in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Wilford Hall Hospital in San Antonio.  Natural light could only be seen through the window for part of the day.  It would never be enough to replace what they missed of the world outside.  They never felt the sunshine's warmth on their faces or the wind blowing across their pink cheeks.  They never walked barefoot through green grass or felt sand between their toes.  They never were able to smell flowers or bread baking or fresh salty air of the sea.  We'll never know if they would be girly-girls and like pink and princesses and flowers or whether they'd be tomboys who liked to climb trees and play in the dirt.  We have no idea if they'd like to sing or do crafts or ride bikes or swim.  We will never see them dance or hear them giggle. 

Even their cries were silent.

While even now there is grief for those lost moments with them, more than that there is gratitude. 


My darlings, Bryn and Tori,


As I look back on my life, and remember you, I observe what some would see as hardship. I can only call it a blessing.  It was an honor to know you, even for the short time we were together.  Because of you-- your birth, your life, your death--  I am forever changed.  While I prayed that God would save you, heal you, let you live, at least give us more time. . .He, in His infinite wisdom, had a greater plan for you. . . a purpose that we never could have anticipated.  You see, someday when we all meet again, I will tell you about the brother you never met.  His name is Daniel.  He was a little boy far away in another country that needed a family.  

Because I loved you, I could also love him.  

Then I will tell you about the sister who was on the other side of the world waiting to belong to someone.   Her name is Willow.  She has been sick her whole life just like you only she went through it all for years without a Mama.  

Because I loved you, I could also love her.  

We learned we were stronger than we ever thought we could be. . .because you were born.  We saw you struggle and learned so much from you. . . because you lived!    We have two children in our lives now that we never would have known. . . because you died. We are stronger, wiser, and better people because of you.  I can only say thank you.  Thank you for teaching me about compassion.  Thank you for teaching me how to love.

Loving you until I see your beautiful faces again in Heaven,
Mommy