To see you again.

Last night, being my husband is out of town for a few nights, I sat in the silence and looked at Savannah's picture that sits above our computer. My thoughts took me back to her sweet silky whisps. We have been lucky enough to save so many "Savannah treasures." Atleast what I like to refer to her memorabilia as. In her little pink box, there is a folded peice of paper, with a few clippings of Savannah's beautiful brown hair. I remember starting at it after she was no more. My mother was still staying at our house, in fact I believe it was before her funeral even.

In deep thought that night, I said, "if we used this hair to clone her, would that baby still have the same problems?"  All I knew was I wanted her. I wanted her back. I wanted her to be born healthy and at home where I wished she was at that moment. Savannah's DNA would indeed with hold the same congenital disorder. Savannah's match, would live for the same eight days. Savannah's clone could only touch us briefly before she spent eternity somewhere else. But you know what? {Even if let's say this "cloning" idea was real, because we all know it isn't unless you are a goat.} Savannah's identical person, would never ever be Savannah. I felt as though I took in every moment I possibly could while we were there with her. But now looking back, I feel as though eight days were not enough. I wish I could have soaked in more. Whatever that is I might have missed that is. Because I am sure I missed something...

Today, I scanned though pictures looking for the picture we took of the hair we had clipped... So we could remember where on her head this hair once was growing. Where this hair was when it would have turned to ringlets. Where it would sit for her first piggy tails. As I scanned through all of those eight glorious days, I saw this picture. Taken right after I had sobbed hysterically into my hands...

Here we were. Just finding out that we were loosing her. Right away you notice my eyes. They are the only thing engaging you in this picture. Notice they are glossy and red. They are puffy and swollen. With out speaking a word you can see my heartbreaking from one simple look. But, when I looked again, I saw my own strength. I looked at the camera, and behind the left over "teary eyes" I cracked a smile. I remember in this moment thinking to myself, you will want to look back on these pictures, and see something more than a sad face. So I looked directly into the camera. My heart was in fact broken here, but knowing my thoughts at that moment, my heart is also screaming, I am so proud to be Savannah's mommy.

I have never cried when my babies have been born. I have only been overwhelmed with sheer happiness and joy. Except of course, the day that Savannah turned purple. Tears of fear, are a far different experience. One I pray none of you will ever have to face, and if you have faced them, my heart breaks for you as well. I know when this new little one is born, there will be tears. Heavy. Deep. Anguish. Relief.... Brave. And then I will look directly into the camera. Not only for the new person in my arms, but for the little person I have experienced the same emotion over once before. She will be there. My sweet Savannah.