My Beautiful Baby,
Day 1: There was once a time when things were hard. There was once a time when money was tight and I couldn’t afford Christmas presents for the both of you. You were a perfect joy to the both of us, born on Christmas day you proved to us that miracles were possible. Baby girl, you are my life and I’m going to try to be a great father. Your mother and I were told early in the pregnancy that you were developing differently than normal babies. Your brain wasn’t functioning at a rate that would be acceptable for life. The doctor’s words will always haunt me. “Your child may not live to see their first birthday.” I can’t even begin to describe the pain on your mother’s face as she caressed you inside her belly. You could tell that she was hurting inside as she wiped the tears, but mommy’s a trooper and we were prepared to welcome you into the world.
On Christmas day your mom awoke me, you were coming. We rushed to the hospital and hours later you were here, our gentle bundle of joy. Even through your facial deformities you were the most beautiful baby girl I had ever seen. So much like your mother, your eyes shone with happiness. The doctors whisked you away to run tests and hook up your tubes, you couldn’t breathe right. Days went by; we were allowed to visit you in the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit. It was so hard watching the doctors poke and prod at you with their meaty fingers. We knew that there was something wrong when the doctor came into your mother’s hospital room with a chart in his hands and a solemn look on his face.
“We need you to name your child, for record’s purposes of course.” He said and looked down with a pen in his hand. I looked at your mother, we had had your name picked out for weeks now. Hope.
We decided to name you hope for that’s what we had this whole pregnancy. Hope that you would be normal, able to live, ours. We still had hope that one day you would pull through this debilitating disease. He wrote your name on your birth certificate and passed it to your mother. Her eyes shone imminent happiness. You were ours, our beautiful bundle of joy who we would cherish every day of our lives.

Hope,
Day 5: You laughed for the first time today. Your mother and I are keeping this diary as a way to commemorate the days of your beautiful life, our little miracle. You struggled so hard to laugh and it was the cutest thing. You are still hooked to your breathing tubes and we know you don’t understand this yet but you need them. Your eyes are your best feature; they are the brightest blue I’ve ever seen. Almost as if someone filled them with the sanitized toilet water. Hope, I hope one day that when you are older you get to read these letters. You will know how much your mother and I love you and how lucky we are to have you here. Your life was a miracle; you were never supposed to be here. God is watching down on us and planning something great for you one day. You are one of God’s special children.
Hope,
Day 17: Today we visited the doctor, he is allowing you to take out your breathing tubes but there is still the chance that you might need them again. It’s hard for your mother and I to take care of you. Mommy had to quit her job to stay home with you while Daddy works two jobs to support the medical bills. Even though we are struggling we know that one day everything will work out and you will be able to walk and talk, maybe even go to school and learn like the other kids; breathing tube free.

Hope,
Day 30: Mommy and I have been really busy but we’ve always made time for you. You are starting to develop a personality, a great one at that. You laugh and smile all the time through your pain. We know life is hard being stuck to breathing tubes again but baby girl you need them. We want you to get better and you can’t do that without all the doctors visiting and the tubes hooked to you. We want our baby girl to grow up and be something great, we know you can do it.

Hope,
Day 32: You’ve taken a turn for the worse, the doctors warned us this might happen. We awoke to feed you and you were quiet. You weren’t being your normal happy self. We took you to the doctors and he said that your brain has stopped developing your body is trying hard to fight the pain. Your organs are slowly shutting down and we are afraid that we are going to lose you.

Hope,
Day 37: After a long battle with the doctors God has finally taken you into his arms. Your mother and I are being strong knowing that you are somewhere safe but we miss you. We miss that gentle laugh and your beautiful smile. When we buried you there were 37 white roses on your casket; One for every day of your life. We love you Hope, you are the best thing that has ever happened to mommy and I. That wonderful Christmas day that you were born was the best day of Mommy and I’s life. We will always remember you. We had your footprint tattooed on our hearts so that you will be here with us permanently. Tell God we said hi and we will see you soon baby girl. Keep smiling.

These letters were put on the small grave of a miraculous child. Her roses wilted and died, much like her, the petals floated in the wind as if she was taking them to heaven with her.