The short story is we did not get answers, they did not get enough tissue. They told us the tissue was from a "healthy female," but they thought it was just my tissue. So, with only that to go on, I think of this angel as my baby girl.
Needless to say, Christmas came and went without celebration in our home last year. All I can remember is lying on the couch, wishing life had been different for us. I cried and cried and cried. I broke down in the shower, in bed at night, in all those quiet moments that leave too much space for the grief - the sadness just overwhelmed me.
Now, a year later, our life has been blessed beyond words. I will never understand why we had to walk this painful path to get to our miracles. Some people just have to. I will never say I am thankful for our losses, as we will always miss those babies, and our hearts will forever have cracks and bruises in the wake of their losses. What I can say is that I see how all of the pain led us to where we are today, where we were meant to be. And we appreciate it more than I am guessing most people can, because we suffered, and we prevailed.
This Christmas I will remember my angels, as I always do. But I will spend more time enjoying our miracles, our son and our daughter, who is mere weeks from her big arrival. A year seems like forever when your heart is broken and dripping with grief. But a year is all it takes for miracles to happen and for life to make sense again.
Rest in peace, sweet angel. We won't ever forget your brief time in our lives - you brought us such immense joy in those few weeks, and that is what we will remember about your life. You were, and always will be, our angel baby.