I miss my boy. I miss him for Hazel. I hate that she doesn't have an older brother here to grow up with. I imagine all of the big brother, little sister pictures I would be taking and how fun it would be to watch them interact. I wanted that for her. As I sit here and type, I have my sweet little girl on my chest asleep. I feel the warmth of her body and hear the little whistle in her breath. She is showered in my tears, but she doesn't seem to mind. It feels good to let myself grieve.
In the last days of my pregnancy with Hazel, my emotions were all over the place. I felt so anxious about her birth. I felt anxiety about all of the triggers I would experience from being back in a delivery room again. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to fully enjoy Hazel's newborn days because they would remind me of what I never had with Owen. The opposite happened, and I am so thankful.
Hazel is the biggest comfort and brings me so much joy. Already this morning she has brought so many smiles to my face. She woke up this morning with an enormous poopy diaper that required a complete wardrobe change. While changing her, she gave us the biggest and sweetest smiles. I heard her laugh out loud for the first time today. She was half asleep while it happened, but it still gave me a glimpse of the real laughs that are to come. On her 43rd day, I am going to hold her a little longer, let her nap in my arms, take even more pictures of her than I do on a typical day, and read all of Owen's favorite books to her in his memory.