A letter to my little girl.
My Sweet Girl,
I am writing this letter to you long before you take your first breath, long before I get to hold your tiny hands or whisper your name against your forehead. You are still safe inside me, growing quietly, and every day I feel you reminds me that God is still planting miracles in the middle of heartbreak.
There is something I need you to know, something sacred and heavy and beautiful all at once.
Your daddy loves you.
He loves you with a love that has carried us through storms, a love that has made me braver, softer, stronger, and more faithful than I ever knew I could be. He prayed for you before we ever knew you were coming. He talked to you through my belly, telling you stories, asking God to bless you with a joyful heart, a peaceful spirit, and a life full of meaning. Even now, as his body grows weaker, his love for you grows stronger. It fills every room, every breath, every moment we still have.
Our days with him are numbered, sweet girl. And that truth breaks my heart in ways I cannot fully write. My faith trembles. My family feels the cracks. Some days I am angry with God, some days I am begging Him for one more sunrise, and some days all I can do is cry into your daddy’s chest and hope Heaven hears me.
But I need you to know this: you were not born into sadnes, you were born into love.
You are a gift that arrived exactly when God knew we needed light. You are the reminder that life still grows even when it hurts, that hope can exist beside grief, that miracles come in small and sacred forms.
One day, when you are older, I will tell you stories about your daddy , how kind he was, how deeply he cared for others, how he could make any room feel lighter just by walking in. How he loved with his whole heart. How he held you from the very beginning, even if he never gets to hold you in his arms. How he prayed over you with a father’s joy and a father’s tenderness.
And when the day comes that he takes his last breath, I believe with all that is left in me that Heaven opens wide for him. I believe he will watch over you, not as a shadow of sorrow, but as a guardian of love. You will have an angel who knows you already, who loves you already, who will fight for you and guide you and cheer for you from the moment you enter this world.
I want you to know that your daddy did not leave you , he simply went ahead of you.
And one day, when God writes the final chapter of our story, we will all be together again.
Until then, I will hold you for both of us. I will tell you his stories until you can recite them by heart. I will teach you the faith he lived , a faith that sometimes shakes but never disappears. And I will love you with the overflowing love he left behind.
You are our miracle, sweet girl.
You are our hope.
You are the piece of him I get to keep forever.
With all my love,
Mom
I am writing this letter to you long before you take your first breath, long before I get to hold your tiny hands or whisper your name against your forehead. You are still safe inside me, growing quietly, and every day I feel you reminds me that God is still planting miracles in the middle of heartbreak.
There is something I need you to know, something sacred and heavy and beautiful all at once.
Your daddy loves you.
He loves you with a love that has carried us through storms, a love that has made me braver, softer, stronger, and more faithful than I ever knew I could be. He prayed for you before we ever knew you were coming. He talked to you through my belly, telling you stories, asking God to bless you with a joyful heart, a peaceful spirit, and a life full of meaning. Even now, as his body grows weaker, his love for you grows stronger. It fills every room, every breath, every moment we still have.
Our days with him are numbered, sweet girl. And that truth breaks my heart in ways I cannot fully write. My faith trembles. My family feels the cracks. Some days I am angry with God, some days I am begging Him for one more sunrise, and some days all I can do is cry into your daddy’s chest and hope Heaven hears me.
But I need you to know this: you were not born into sadnes, you were born into love.
You are a gift that arrived exactly when God knew we needed light. You are the reminder that life still grows even when it hurts, that hope can exist beside grief, that miracles come in small and sacred forms.
One day, when you are older, I will tell you stories about your daddy , how kind he was, how deeply he cared for others, how he could make any room feel lighter just by walking in. How he loved with his whole heart. How he held you from the very beginning, even if he never gets to hold you in his arms. How he prayed over you with a father’s joy and a father’s tenderness.
And when the day comes that he takes his last breath, I believe with all that is left in me that Heaven opens wide for him. I believe he will watch over you, not as a shadow of sorrow, but as a guardian of love. You will have an angel who knows you already, who loves you already, who will fight for you and guide you and cheer for you from the moment you enter this world.
I want you to know that your daddy did not leave you , he simply went ahead of you.
And one day, when God writes the final chapter of our story, we will all be together again.
Until then, I will hold you for both of us. I will tell you his stories until you can recite them by heart. I will teach you the faith he lived , a faith that sometimes shakes but never disappears. And I will love you with the overflowing love he left behind.
You are our miracle, sweet girl.
You are our hope.
You are the piece of him I get to keep forever.
With all my love,
Mom
22-25, F
