My perspective about Eva is this:
We were blessed with 22 days.
She didn’t suffer a seizure.
We looked into her eyes and she looked into ours.
We had a natural birth with a joyous entrance into the world, where she breast-fed for her only time.
We held her free of cords for a few days after birth, cradling, kissing and never putting her down.
Everyone who approached her did so knowing they were in the presence of an angel.
Even with cords, I still snuggled her in my arms and kissed her tiny head.
I changed her diapers every time I was with her.
I got to be a mother again.
And according to this photo, I bathed my child, something I thought only the nurses did.
SHE IS LOVE. SHE FELT LOVE.
SHE ONLY KNEW LOVE.
These are some that I hold dear. I miss my baby deeply, but I strive to have a joyous perspective about Eva’s time on earth. Too much sadness surrounded her tiny life—I refuse to let her memories be saddened too. She brought so much joy with that heartache. It’s an indescribable feeling that only a parent’s perspective can understand.