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Two years and 4 months ago, I sat in the glider that is a hand-me-down from my middle sister, who got it as a hand-me-down from my oldest sister, that was placed lovingly in the entrance to what would be Lucia's room.  My belly was big.  I was at the end of my pregnancy.  I looked at the room I was sitting in, rocking in.  It was a baby room.  Ready to be used by the baby that I was carrying.  I cried.  I was so close to delivery, yet so far.  Every minute that I had to wait until Lucia was born felt like an eternity.  I know that that sounds dramatic...but when you have lost a baby, and know of everything that can go wrong, the end of the pregnancy is just so scary.  There is so much at stake.  I remember getting up from the rocking chair and holding the sweet little newborn onesie over my belly.  Imagining what the baby might look like wearing it.  I let myself imagine just for a second, and then put the onesie back down.  I couldn't let go all the way and totally relax.  No matter how hard I tried, I remained tentative.  I was ever so hopeful that things would all work out that she would be fine...but what if they didn't?  Oh the torment of getting through that roller coaster ride.

Tonight I sat in that same glider, and I rocked.  Bruno had put Lucia to sleep a couple of hours ago.  As I went in to turn out her lamp, I sat next to her bed and admired her.  I admired her stomach going up and down with each breath.  I admired the sound she made as she sucked her thumb intermittently.  I admired the sound of her breathing - slightly junky from a cold that she is fighting.  All sights and sounds of such a vibrant life.  Life.  She made it.  She is here.  It's been 2 years and 3 months since she was born, but I'm still struck every day just at what a miracle she is.  I turned out the lamp and turned on her stary nightlight.  I wasn't ready to leave the room yet, so I sat in the rocking chair, looking at the room in the dark with the stars glowing.  I listened to the lullaby that was on, Lullabye by Billy Joel.  The toddler bed in front of me with her sleeping in it.  Her toys on the floor in front of me.  So much life in that room.  It really filled me with emotions.  Emotions that I never thought I would have 4 years ago after we lost Marco.  I remember sitting on the floor in that same room and crying until I couldn't cry anymore after we lost him.  It was still an office at that point.  It had never made it to a baby room when I was pregnant with him, as we were tentative to do anything until we knew what would happen.  

Tonight I just wanted to pause the world and just stay in this moment.  She is growing fast.  Too fast.  She is getting taller.  She is talking a lot.  She is almost ready to be potty trained.  She isn't a baby anymore.  As she would say, "I'm a big girl".  Time is a strange thing.  I know we talk about time a lot here on Share.  Anyway - tonight I feel this combination of gratitude and melancholy....just taking it all in....what's right in front of me....Lucia my little miracle.  Growing so fast.  I guess bitter sweet sums it up.  

Marco - your sister is filling the room that you would have had with so much life, it is extraordinary.  Thank you for helping me remember to take the time to sit and look at and listen to her.  Thank you for helping me appreciate each moment I have with her.  I love you, my angel.