A letter to my little girl

It was 11:35 just five years ago, the water broke and the rollercoaster ride began. Nine weeks to early. It seemed like forever before I heard you cry, and I didn't even get to hold you. Daddy says They brought you over to me for me to see you but I can't remember. It all happened so fast. I do remember seeing you in the isolet. So small. So red. They had you under the blue lights, your bilirubin levels in your blood were to high, which was bad for your liver, but other than that you seemed good. Your were breathing on your own which was amazing. I didn't know what to think, none of it seemed real. I wanted to hold you but I couldn't, I wanted to love you, but I couldn't. I couldn't let myself get attached, the future was so uncertain.
Now five years later, I don't know how I could ever live without you. What would I do without your smile lighting up even the darkest of days? What I do with out your laughter filling the house? What would I do with all the money I would save the hair dye I have to buy to cover all the gray hair you give me with all your crazy antics. God truley blessed me when he sent me you. Happy birthday my dear Nevada Anne. Please stop growing up so fast.