Last year I found out I was pregnant with your sister, my second baby. Your older brother was overjoyed, but he wanted a brother instead. Weeks turned into months and we prepared for a baby girl. She was perfect in every way. She looked like your daddy, and your brother was stoked to meet her. She died. 5 hours before delivery during a routine check up my world shifted. There was no heart beat. I hit a point where there was no happiness. There was no light at the end of this tunnel. 37 weeks 2 days of loving her was ripped away and I felt like I had nothing.

Then, there was you. Two pink lines on an 88 cent pregnancy test. Your sister would be 5 months old, and my heart may never heal, but I'll pray for you. Your brother is already throwing out names for you. We don't care what your gender is. You will never replace your sister. She will always be a part of the journey we are taking, but I will remember to thank God for you.

You give me hope for a new beginning. I can see a light again. Even though you are still tiny and fragile I will keep hope for you. I love you already my rainbow. ❤

love, mom.