My Sweet Addison,
Over the last two years you have given me more joy then I could ever imagine (with just a few sides of heart ache and worry). And you know what, I wouldn't have it any other way. You have amazed all of us with your courage, strength, grace, and promise. You and Blake both have taught me what life is really about. You've taught me about miracles at their finest, and how delicate each breath is. Everyday I walk in to your room and see a bright smiling face and my heart melts at the sound of one word "MAMA!" (Which I can usually hear you calling from down the hall.)
The day you and Blake were born I knew my heart would forever walk outside of my body. You've learned the art of manipulation at a young age. Recently you have started to say "I love Mama" and "I love ya" but it's saved for special occasions... occasions when you've done something ornery and want to get out of trouble. You have also learned that a smile and one look will get you out of any trouble with Daddy and basically get you anything you want.
Two years ago we worried "Would you walk? Would you talk? Would you even survive?" You came into the world fighting at 1:10pm, and I remember a flash of blanket as they showed you to me and wheeled you away to the NICU. Later that night I got to see you again (which felt more like the first time), and they warned us that you may not make it. They asked if they should Baptize you then and we immediately said yes. I held hands with Daddy and your nurses and we prayed. I was only with you for a few brief moments when it was time for me to leave and get back to my room. See mommy was still on medicines and in pain from delivery. It was important that my medicines wore off before I could come see you again.
We left the NICU with a picture of you and your brother. That is what I looked at over and over the rest of the night until I was able to walk to get to you. The nurses warned me I should wait longer but it was important I see you. Before they would let us in, Dr. K needed to talk to us again. He warned us - said we had a very sick little girl on our hands. He also promised that he would do all that he could while we left the rest to God.
A lot of things have happened to you over the last two years. Most nothing short of a miracle. Addison you must know this... those people who were with you that first night, and those long 153 days later, made all the difference in your world. You won't understand this now, but I hope one day you will. See, for reasons we may never really know, my body just couldn't quiet do what it needed to, to keep you and Blake safe. (Secretly I think you and Blake both knew this and knew it was time to get out). Those doctors and nurses took care of you when I couldn't. They are all angels sent from Heaven, I am convinced. If it weren't for them, we wouldn't have you or Blake. You've visited these Miracle Workers several times since birth and each time they are amazed at just how special you are, and I cannot wait for the day when you can thank them personally for helping to give you life. They also taught me a great deal about how to care for two babies as precious as you and Blake.
As I sit here writing this, I reflect a little, and recall a time we wondered if you would ever walk and the many conversations we had with your therapists about it. But look at you know. You climb stairs (and anything else you can think of). And not only do you walk, you run, down the hallway to your toy room where I watch you talk to your baby doll and feed her just like Mommy feeds you. I listen to you and Blake talk to each other in that special twin language that only you two understand. You tell me things that usually make some sense. (And some of which is its own dose of sass already.) You point and shout "airplanes" when planes fly over head. You call "Sandi" for your favorite puppy dog, and who can forget "Minnie" your favorite stuffed lovey.
I also remember that night driving home from the hospital and your daddy turning up the radio and saying "This song, this is Addison's song. She's my firework." That song was Katy Perry's "Firework" - it took a long time for me to listen to that song without tears but it's true. It's totally you. I promise to play it for you often.
All of this though, is just the tip of the iceberg because Addison, you do just so much more then you can ever imagine. (Who can forget that just a few short months ago you were "feeding tube dependent" and now can out eat your brother.) Seriously, I just sat at the table with you tonight and watched you eat with a fork, off of a plate. And enjoyed every moment. And I am proud that you have learned that "all done" can only be used once you have ate enough (aka, you are eating more before you are "all done").
And speaking of your brother, there are a few things you should know about Blake. The first is that even on days where you bully him (yes, yes you do, and there is no denying that), he loves you and would go to the end of the world for you. Even in the NICU, sweet girl, he had to see what was going on with you all the time. The nurses commented often about how they would rotate him one way and he'd try so hard to turn back towards you. He has felt some of your pain. I watched him cry when things were happening to you. He will be your very best friend. He has rooted you on through countless feeding sessions and even cheered "Yay Addi". He is proud of all that you are. And there is no use denying it. We know you love him too. Promise to always be there for him, no matter what. He'll do the same for you.
All my life I've waited, wanted and prayed for children like you, how lucky am I to have not one but TWO! See that's just it. We are one of the lucky ones.
May you always know just how much we love you!