It was three years ago today that we said goodbye to our girl and I've been reading blog posts and remembering. Remembering the highs and lows and God's faithfulness to us. At times like this I still struggle with knowing that God's plans are perfect and resting in the fact that all that He does is for my good and His glory. Because even knowing this, my heart wishes things could have been different. I wish we could have brought her home. I wish I could have rocked her and nursed her and snuggled her. I wish she could have gotten to know her brothers and sisters and grandparents. I wish she could have sat with us in church, sandwiched in between Brandon and me, her little hands holding on to the hymnal. I wish she could have worn Lillie and Mary Margaret's clothes and shoes -- the ones that are stored carefully in the attic. I wish she could be here to celebrate birthdays, and Christmases, and Thanksgivings. I miss our newborn baby girl and I miss what I've only imagined in my mind. I miss our little three-year-old girl.
I love you, Anne Marie, and I won't ever forget your last day -- the day I got to hold you for the first time. You were soft and beautiful and sweet. Our hearts ache for you and we miss you so much.