Today, November 19th, marks a day of bittersweet remembrance. It is the day my precious daughter, Millie Grace, was born. A day that should have been filled with joy and celebration but instead became a heart-wrenching reminder of how short her time with us would be. Millie lived just 18 days. Eighteen days that I will forever cherish, but also mourn.
When Millie was born, I held on to hope—hope that I would get to hold her in my arms, feed her, watch her breathe on her own after being extubated, and one day take her home. I imagined the ordinary moments every parent dreams of: seeing her grow up, take her first steps, hear her laugh, and witness the simple joys of childhood. These hopes were shared not only by me but by the doctors, nurses, and everyone on the CDH (Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia) floor in the hospital, who rallied around us, hoping for a miracle.
But as each day passed, those dreams began to slip further away. The reality of Millie’s fragile condition set in, and I watched as she fought so hard to stay with us. She fought every day, just as I fought alongside her, wishing for things to be different, wishing for a chance at the life we dreamed of. I still find it so unfair—why did such a beautiful little soul have to endure so much pain in her short life? Why couldn’t she grow up and experience the world?
In the end, God had different plans for her. And while part of me understands that she is no longer in pain, no longer suffering, it doesn’t make the loss any easier. In fact, it leaves a heartache that doesn’t seem to go away, no matter how much time passes. I am angry. Angry that she wasn’t given the life we so desperately wanted for her. I’m angry that my daughter’s future was taken from her before she had a chance to fully live. And yet, through all that anger, I still know that she is forever loved, forever in my heart, and forever a part of me.
Today, I remember Millie Grace not for the pain of her absence, but for the love she gave me in her short life. I remember her tiny fingers, her soft little breaths, and the way her spirit touched everyone around her. I will never stop loving her, and I will never stop missing her. My heart aches daily as I wish life were different, as I wish she were here with me, watching her grow and be the little girl I dreamed she would be.
But as her mother, I hold on to the fact that Millie is no longer in pain. I know that, wherever she is, she is surrounded by love—my love, her love, and the love of those who cared for her during her time with us. In my heart, Millie will always be my little girl, forever frozen in time, always loved, always cherished.
Happy birthday, Millie Grace. You may be gone, but you will never be forgotten. Your spirit will always live on in my heart, and I will forever carry the lessons you taught me about strength, hope, and love. You will always be my precious daughter, and your memory will continue to inspire me every day.
Thank you for the 18 days you gave me. They were 18 days filled with love, courage, and hope—days I will cherish forever, even through the heartbreak. Your legacy will live on, and the love I have for you will never fade. 💖