I have a tradition where I write a letter to my child on his/her birthday and seal it up in an envelope. To be honest, some years their birthday slips by and I forget to write to them because I am so busy/crazy. But I don’t let that get me down. Five letters on their birthday is better than no letters. I haven’t decided if I am going to give them to them when they are 18, married, or have their first kid. I really don’t know. But writing letters is kind of a forgotten thing. (Which I am hoping my child realizes when they find many letters missing. Hopefully they don’t compare with each other how many they each have) I love reading about what they were doing at the age. This past week we celebrated my sweet daughter’s birthday. I have been thinking about how blessed we are to have her in our family. This year’s letter is a bit longer than last years.
Dearest Daughter,
We had the best time celebrating you this past week. You have been thrilled with the decorations and kept talking about your “birthday”. You loved the frosting, presents, and friends singing to you. I have been thinking how much I absolutely adore you. And what a light you are to our family and all those who love you.
When you first came to earth you had a rough start. Labor was painful and stressful. The doctors weren’t ready for you. And I don’t think the nurse really knew what she was doing. Dad and I were there along with your Auntie Dee and my BFF Shari. I couldn’t believe you were finally here. A daughter in my arms. They wanted to check you out in the nursery. Daddy went with you. And you were never alone. I know family on the other side was with you too. It turns out you needed to go to the NICU. And I wasn’t well enough to go see you. Later that night a doctor came in and told me about a little surgery you were going to have. I was so grateful to finally be able to hold you. I was so happy when you were able to meet your two older brothers. Gandalf was getting over a cold and wasn’t allowed in. It was hard for him, but only fair. There were even smaller babies than you in the NICU and they needed to be safe. It was a hard time for our family. I wanted to be with you as much as possible, but I had three boys at home as well. We were in survival mode. And your brothers could feel it too.
We were so happy when you were finally able to come home. Your brothers were over the moon. I often times catch them watching you sleep or coming home from school only to tell you all about their day. You still had a hard time eating and we worked hard together. Eventually you were able to breastfeed. I didn’t have to pump and bottle feed you any more. We had so many doctors appointments. They didn’t know what was wrong. You were labeled failure to thrive with poor muscle tone. And you were so brave. Twice you did blood work without crying.
Later in the spring we were told you had Ostepetrosis. The doctor was so nice when he told me. That must be a hard job. And it was even harder telling Daddy. We later found out that you would need a bone marrow transplant soon or you might not make it past two years old. We were praying so hard that your brothers would be a match. So many dear friends offered their bone marrow. Your brothers ended up being so relieved that they weren’t a match. We didn’t tell them that you would probably wouldn’t make it without the transplant. They were already so worried about you. And Gandalf can have such anxiety. Was it terrible that we were hoping Draco, your diabetic brother, would be the match? Gandalf was really worried about it. Then I found out that a bone marrow transplant would include chemo. How was I going to take care of you and protect you and your lack of white blood cells with 3 germy brothers?
Your father and I felt inspired to move our family to Arizona away from all our support and family. I’m sure our doctors thought we were crazy. We were connected with Phoenix Children’s Hospital therapy out there. We just had to wait for dad to get a job and figure out our insurance. You had your bone marrow biopsy. You were so brave and strong. It was so hard because you were fasting. And all the nurses would come talk to you and wave. And bless your heart their “waves” looked a lot like the sign for “milk”. And you would sign milk with distress on your face and they would just keep smiling and waving. It was so hard to let you go into surgery and have to wait outside. I was so thankful to be able to go inside and feed you afterwards. You were eating like a champ!
And then a miracle happened. During our last week in California the doctors called with her blood work test results (they had taken over 8 weeks to obtain the results) and I was simply told you didn’t have Osteropetrosis. I couldn’t believe it. I was just overcome with gratitude. I don’t know if you were misdiagnosed or healed. I am not going to rule out that you were healed because you had so many indicators that you did have Osteopetrosis. And miracles happen. Ever since you were in the NICU there were so many praying for you. So many who learned to love you even though they hadn’t even met you yet. There were so many fasting for you and putting your name in the temple so they could pray for you. So many, of all different faiths, praying on your behalf. I am so thankful for all those who loved you and prayed for you and us. So thankful for all those who supported us during this hard time. And it was a hard time, but it was also wonderful because we had you.
You my sweet daughter have helped me rely and come unto my Savior is such a strong way. I wish you didn’t have to endure such pain and hardship during your first year. But I wouldn’t want to change it. You made our family better. Daddy and I grew closer. You helped each of us grow closer together and closer to our Savior. I love hearing the prayers of Draco that he will still thank our Heavenly Father for letting you stay with us. I see the way your brothers protect and treat you and I know they must know how special you are. I see such a strong spirit in you. Stronger and braver than me. I see that even though you are two you have a testimony. You love our Savior. I can see it on your face when you see a picture of Him. I can see it when you take the sacrament so reverently and then sign “Jesus” because you know what the bread and water symbolize. I can see your faith in prayer as you fold your arms and pray yourself. You know prayer is important. You have been so good during prayers for over a year. I see the joy you have when you see a temple and you burst into song and sing “I love to see the Temple.” I know you have a testimony that families can be together.
And you haven’t just blessed our lives. I see the impact of so many who love and adore you. They ask about you and remember you still. You are a very special spirit. And I love that you always let your light shine. I know you will continue to help others and be an example in our family. And my heart has grown for the many other babies who are dealing with this very terrible disease. I am so thankful we can pray for Baby Ruthie and Baby Logan. I haven’t wanted to leave the support group on Facebook because my heart goes out to those dear families and their strong babies. I care about them and their babies.
Two years is such a fun age! I love your feminine side. I love that you love to get your hair done, wear fancy shoes and jewelry, and put on make up. I love that you are a nurturer and organizer. You love to clean and want your brothers to listen to me. Other things that you love: Star Wars, Harry Potter, dogs, cookies, tea parties, puzzles, cars, music, dancing, hugs and kisses, babies, books, Elsa, shopping with me, and coloring. You still can mix up Elsa and Anna from Frozen, but you can recognize musical scores from Harry Potter and Star Wars. And in the song “Do you wanna build a snowman” you always say “Oh no!” when the parents die just at the right musical moment. I love that you chant “Voldemort!” when Dark Lord Funk stops playing. Music is part of who you are. I adore that you almost always say thank you. You have such a grateful heart. You are so wonderful at noticing others in distress and you always want to comfort them. You can get Yoda or Draco to scratch your back even though they are usually the ones asking for back scratches. You are like your daddy in that you are hilarious and love to entertain. I am pretty sure Goof Ball Island is one of your core character points.
My sweet daughter, you have such a pure, loving heart. You are so sweet and polite and kind. I am so happy you are in our family. I am so proud of you for learning how to walk and graduating from therapy. You have worked so hard! And we love that you are just healthy normal two year old. You love singing “Let it Go!” and wearing Darth Vader masks. You dislike vegetables and are trying to keep up with your brothers. You have a strong spirit and testimony that has blessed so many. I am so thankful to have you. I love you so much more than you can understand and I always will. What a blessing that we are celebrating your birth instead of hoping your bone marrow transplant worked by your 2nd birthday. Happy Birthday my sweet girl! So thankful that we could celebrate you this month!!!
Love Mom
