Twelve years ago, Nora was just minutes old, as I write this. Up until the moment I heard the beautiful sound of her first cries, I had no idea if she was going to be born alive. We opted not to have any fetal monitoring during labor and delivery, because I imagined it might kill me to know if her sweet heart had stopped beating. It seems surreal to think back to those moments, remembering how absolutely terrified I was. Suddenly there we were with this teeny tiny little baby, and she was ALIVE!! Her naked little body pressed up against my skin, her tiny heart and lungs fighting like mad to adapt to life outside of me. I had no idea what was around each corner from minute to minute. Every little breath she took, I worried would be her last. I could not imagine what the next day, week or year held, and I certainly couldn’t imagine that I’d be sitting here exactly 12 years later, 12 years older reflecting on the beautiful life of Nora Rose that had unfolded and bloomed for a time with such radiance. For just a little over 2 years we got to hold her, kiss her, love her, bathe her, feed her, vacation with her, swim with her, experience holidays with her, go on walks with her, hug her and squeeze her (sometimes a little too hard which would maker her cough in protest!)(“Kelly!!!”). It is all so fresh in my mind that it seems like just yesterday – but then I look back at the pictures and see how young we looked, and how little Gavin and Greta were … yes, it’s been a long time.

Time stands still for no one, but it has allowed me to become accustomed to the weight of heavy grief. It is forever a part of me, and I’m okay with that. It is all I have left of her. It is proof that she was here, and that I loved her (still love her) madly. We’re older and grayer, the big kids are all grown up. So much has changed, but Nora is still a huge part of our family. We still see hearts and 41s all over the place. We talk about her every day. We still occasionally see the trios of birds when we need the reminder that everything is going to be alright. A couple of days ago, Gavin sent us this picture from the gym. He took a sip of water while on the treadmill and spilled some on his 41 shirt.

We’ve also had a couple of friends share their heart sightings this week, as well as a 4:17 screen shot that I missed by a couple of minutes this year! Thanks for catching that for me, Kim!!

Thank you everyone for the texts and the phone calls and for the beautiful bouquet of flowers from Gavin’s sweet girlfriend. It is so comforting to have Nora thought of and remembered on this bittersweet day.

Happy birthday, my sweet baby girl!

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

(1 Corinthians 13:13)