Day 51

Dear Charlotte Amalie-

You've been here for 51 days. For 51 days, I have left your bedside time and time again, knowing the nurses would take care of you, would love you, since I could not. They spend more time with you anyway.

For 51 days I've read blogs and journals, medical books and "How to Parent Your Preemie Baby." For 50 nights, I've gone to bed without worrying that your cry would wake me in the middle of the night. Instead, for 50 nights, I've worried I'd get that phone call in the middle of the night. I've worried that I would get any phone call in the middle of the night.

Over the past 51 days, I have pumped approximately 400 times. I have dialed the NICU about 100 times. I've whispered your name in prayer an uncountable number of times.

For the past 51 days, I have seen your father fall in love every time he sees you. I've watched him watch you, as if he would heal you with his eyes if he but could. I've witnessed his hands cover your body, holding you with every ounce of love that he has, willing that love to make you whole. I've held him as we both cried. Your father is not an emotional man, nor would I call him "warm and fuzzy", but girl, he has the warm and fuzzies for you.

For the past 51 days, I've wondered how to tell your big brother about you. He's interested, and scared. He knows that things just aren't quite right. He prays for you. He really just wants to go outside and ride his tractor. Or grandpa's tractor-- either one, but preferably, grandpa's.

For 51 days, we've wondered why you came early. We've cursed our Luck and thanked our Father in Heaven for our Blessings. We've been jealous of pregnant women, hurt by unkind words, and grateful that your tiny heart continues to beat. Oh, how we love that heart of yours.

We've prepared (can you prepare?) for what-if's. We've had talks about funerals and coming home parties. We'd really rather have a party, if it were up to us. That's just how we roll.

For 51 days, I've loved you-- I've loved the idea of you. But mostly, I love how you make everyone around you a better person. I love how people are kind, and for the most part, understanding. I love how concerned people are. I love how your very presence reminds people of the important things in life. There aren't many things in this world that can get people to do that.

By the way, in 51 days, we still haven't managed to figure out what your name is really going to be. Any preference? Charlotte? Charlie? Amalie? Molly? Charlotte Amalie? Charlie Molly? Let us know. People are starting to ask.

Love,
Your Totally-Clueless-but-I'll-Never-Admit-That-To-You Mother

PS-
Here's to another 50 days.