My sunshine.

The sweet card our midwife, Mary, made for us, because she also feels Emmett in the sun.

Dear Emmett,

When we found out you were going to be in our lives, we were so excited.  We immediately began brainstorming your name, planning our future as a family, and choosing very important things like your very own hashtag for social media ;) Oh, our level of excitement was unreal (and it just grew and grew and grew)!  We had no complaints about pregnancy, or you, but as my pregnancy progressed, I was usually very tired, because I had so many sleepless nights, typically due to you deciding to have a dance party at 2 a.m.  So for many of those nights, I turned to your daddy and asked him to sing to me, like I had done so many times before pregnancy. 

For some reason, your daddy always sings the song, "You Are My Sunshine" to me.  I'm not entirely sure why it was that song, but I still remember the first time I asked him to sing to me.  I was having a rough night, and having a hard time falling asleep, and that was the song he decided to sing to me.

So throughout my pregnancy, when I couldn't sleep, he would sing to me, and you, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…" And while I didn't always instantly fall asleep, my spirit was so calm and full of joy, knowing I was carrying you, and knowing the ever-growing love that we have for you. As if that song didn't already mean enough to me, it was now tied to you, my perfect baby boy!  

The day we learned of your death, it was not a sunshine-y day.  In fact, that whole week was a pretty nasty week, weather-wise.  The skies stayed grey, with ugly snow falling intermittently.  This was not the pretty, fluffy flakes in Christmas movies, these were the ugly, kind of rainy, slushy flakes that leave you cold to the bone and make the world feel dirty.  So when we were making your funeral arrangements, I felt a mild sense of panic, "What if no one comes to the funeral? What if it's terrible weather?"

Do you know what wound up happening, little boy?

I woke up on the day of your funeral with my heart in my throat.  I felt confused, angry, so sad, but somehow found myself telling daddy that I still trust in God, even though this horrible thing had happened to us.  I looked out the window and saw that it was at least bright outside, which was a relief.  "At least it's not snowing."  Then on our way to the funeral home, when we got to Ann Arbor it was like something broke, and suddenly the sun was shining so brightly.  I like to think, and I tell everyone, that was your gift to us.  This big, beautiful sun, somehow bringing a sense of peace to a very dark and terrible day.

Anytime I see the sun now, I think of you, sweet baby.  I probably sound like a loony, grieving mother, but I don't care!  I see you in the sun, Emmett.  When I feel the warmth of the sun, it feels like you're smiling down at us, and I usually find myself announcing, "I love you, Emmett! I love you, baby boy!" (And can I just say, this is my favorite when it happens in public around strangers??  They look at me like I'm crazy, and I just laugh, because it's our little joke…right, Emmett?)

Each day I thank God for the sun, because it feels like my own personal portal to Heaven, and on the truly dark days in my life, I tend to feel the sun on my back, and subsequently feel you smiling down at me.

You truly are our sunshine, Emmett.


Love,
Mama