A little over three years ago, my baby died. Today would've been my due date. My baby would have been 3 years old today. She would've been walking, talking alittle. She would have the most beautiful black hair and big brown eyes. I think about my baby every day and I miss her so much. I think about her sometimes, without pain. I loved feeling her butterfly kicks on my stomach, and I loved the dreams I would have about her. There was this one time, when I woke up, I felt her against my skin. I felt her, and then she left me. I miss her.