…R and I were on our way to the hospital, hoping our baby was ok. She was, and tomorrow we will celebrate her fourth birthday with cake and streamers and a fancy tea party.

Four years ago at this exact time we were heading downstairs to the waiting taxi. And it is impossible now to think of that night, December 22, 2008, and not also think of the night of January 12, 2012, and another trip to the hospital, for a baby who was not ok, will never celebrate a birthday.

Tonight R and I remembered and cried and held each other.

Tomorrow we will sing for our bright bright four-year-old sunshine; tonight we mourn our quick-to-dark little shooting star, while we remember two silent trips to the hospital, such different trips home.

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