Letter to Milo from Mommy and Daddy

Our precious Milo,
            On the morning you arrived, you were calm and alert.  Crying only briefly, you looked at us with a beautiful intensity that made us wonder if you hadn’t been here before.  Strong and healthy, you lifted your little head out of the bassinet, impressing us, your Uncle Glen, and your pediatrician.  It was as if you were saying “I’m here, and I’m ready to get started!”
            When we brought you home, we were scared.  Scared of doing something wrong…something that might hurt you, and also scared of the newness of life as a family.  As each new day presented itself with a new adventure, we slowly became more confident in taking care of you, and we developed a routine that we will remember and cherish forever.  In fact, if you asked us right now if we wanted to just keep reliving those four months over and over and over…we would surely say “yes”.
            We will miss every little thing about you, and our biggest fear right now is that those memories might start to fade.  We never want to forget how expressive you were with your hands, how you proudly wore your cow outfit to go on walks, how you would breathe heavily with contentment when we put you in your bathtub, and how you would lift your legs way up and then thump your feet down on the mattress to get our attention.  We never want to forget how talkative you were becoming…screeching really loudly with glee, or how strong your legs were getting because all you wanted to do was stand up on our laps.  We especially loved how at night, right before going to sleep, you engaged us in long conversations and with your pacifier in your mouth said “Gui, gui, gui…” over and over.  All of these things melted our hearts and we will never be the same.
            We were given the honor of being your parents, and this moving experience has changed us in ways we can’t even articulate yet.  Although losing you will never be something we can fully comprehend, we can start to look for some of the positive things that may emerge from our pain.  For instance, our families are drawing closer, and we notice ourselves searching for a way to serve others.  Your short life has given ours more purpose and meaning, and that is a glorious gift.  We could not have loved you more, Milo, and we miss you in every moment. 

Good night, sweet love,

Mommy and Daddy