Sweet little Aubree Lyn,
I have spent hours trying to come up with words that will exemplify just how special you are. How do we say hello and goodbye at the same time? You left this world before you were ever given the chance to experience it. But that doesn’t mean that you didn’t leave your mark.
Your mommy and daddy anxiously awaited your arrival for months. We all did. As you grew and mommy’s tummy grew, to say that they were excited to meet you is an understatement. Although pregnancy was very hard on her body, Mommy focused on you. She and Daddy showed off your ultrasound pictures, planned for your arrival, and worked tirelessly to make sure they’d be ready when the big day came. Your mom and dad checked days, weeks, and months off the calendar. They couldn’t wait to be your parents. They were so excited to find out that you were a girl. They named you. Then they named you again. Then they named you again. What can I say? Indecisiveness runs in the women of our family. But I have to say that when you arrived you were definitely an Aubree.
The name, Aubree, means “power”and the name, Lyn, means “leader”. The doctor told your daddy today that you gave your life to save Mommy’s. If that doesn’t show strength and power I don’t know what does.
Your mommy fought so very hard to keep you. Daddy never left mommy’s side. He still hasn’t. You have tremendously strong parents who would have done anything to keep you here.
With the precious little time they’ve had with you, I felt humbled and honored to have been given the chance to hold your angelic little body in my arms. You are the spitting image of your mother. You have her nose and the same dimple in your chin. You have your daddy’s hair and a lot of it. You’re perfect. I saw the love, pride, and undeniable grief in your daddy’s eyes as he graciously and selflessly brought you into your mommy’s room so we could meet you. I watched as your grandmas held you, with tears spilling over you, whispering “I love you” and counting ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. I watched as your grandfathers cradled you in their strong, yet trembling hands as they tried and sometimes failed to hold back tears. And I listened to the prayer that your Aunt Sarah prayed over you as she held you for the first and last time. Her prayer was as heartbreaking and beautiful as you.
It has always been my belief that every person has a purpose. God doesn’t create us by accident. We are fearfully and wonderfully made. I don’t know why you had to leave. Mommy, Daddy, and those of us who’ve loved you from the start will always wonder why. But you still had purpose. The night you were brought into this world there was more love for you in that operating room and more love for you in that hospital room than many people live entire lives without knowing. Even in their grief, I witnessed relationships being mended and past being hurts healed. You, sweet angel, did that. I believe that your purpose is something we’re just touching the surface of.
What I want you to understand is just how loved and cherished you truly are. Mommy and Daddy will miss you until their dying breath when they will be reunited with you and our Heavenly Father. It will probably seem like seconds for you and an eternity for them.
When I held you and kissed your forehead, your lips, so much like mommy’s, were pursed. I mentioned to daddy that you looked to be smiling. I know that smile came to your lips the moment you met Jesus. Please ask Him to take special care of your mommy. She is fighting for her own life right now and needs Him now more than ever. And please ask Him to comfort Daddy and give him and Mommy strength and peace as they struggle with your loss.
We will miss you so very much, sweet angel Aubree Lyn,
Until we meet again…