This is not to say, Michaela, that you have been forgotten in any of this. You were even there in the labor and delivery room, as I suffered along with my daughter through an unmedicated birth, as I wondered if you had given birth in the time you have been gone, and I grieved that if you had, I had not been able to be there to hold your hand or rub your back, as I was doing with your youngest sister, the one you have never met.
But for now, for this moment, I hope you don’t mind if I take a few days off from the grief, from the scratching and clawing my way through the frustration of trying to find you. I hope you don’t mind that for awhile I will cast off the blanket of sadness and I will fully embrace the joy of this season of new life. I will get back to the business of finding you, but this is like finding a small garden with a padded bench on which to rest in the middle of a decades long climb up a mountain.
I love you, Michaela. I love you forever. Wherever you are, rejoice with us, and with little baby Theo. Life affirms life.