In just three days my own baby will turn four. This seems incredibly impossible but that's a different story for a different day. I remember exactly what I was doing this time last year. I was planning his third birthday party. Then I got the news of your birth, in pieces, from your blog and from your God-mamma. A bit of news here, a hurried phone call there. My stomach was in one giant knot. I could barely move, afraid of what might happen if I did. With all the fear--and love--that I felt, I could not imagine, for one second, being your parent. I tried to wrap my brain around what your mom was going through. I tried to imagine the seventeen-year-old girl that I met back on the third floor of Nease Hall over ten years ago dealing with such a monumentally difficult time. I couldn't figure out how she'd possibly be able to remember how to live. But Karsie, she did. And so did your dad and everyone else who loves you beyond measure. But, most importantly, so did you. You fought and became a living, breathing, miracle.
Thank you. Your impact on my life is hard to put into words. I laid awake that night and prayed over and over and over for you and for your parents. In the middle of my own trial you pulled me out of a "me" focused prayer life. Matthew would live. Certainly I wanted his life to be spent with me but he would live. As your life hung in the balance I realized just how lucky we were and I held Matthew close and begged the Lord not to take you home.
I love you so very much, from afar, through your blog and emails with your mama. It was such an amazing blessing to finally meet you. May you always know that your life has impacted so very many. In ways that I may never be able to articulate, you're my hero. Happy Birthday!