Dear Lily,

Welcome home! I debated whether to continue writing to you once you were born. I decided that for several reason (named and unnamed), I will. You are quite amazing, my little angel. I have to say that if I thought I couldn't love you any more while you were inside mommy's belly, I was surely mistaken. I look at you and I am melted butter. I am not ashamed to say that I can't count the times when I broke down just looking at you and thinking about the number of prayers that have been answered in the past few days. I knew you were a fighter (though my fear made me hold back a little). You have defied so many odds already, and you continue to with each breath. The best answered prayer of all -- walking in the door of your home with you in my arms. I have had some very happy times, but that one is right there at the top. Please excuse me if I am emotional; I'm in uncharted territory, so I do not know how I will react. Don't think that I am sad, though I get sad when I start to let the fear and anxiety get through my joy. I find myself chanting my manta over and over -- "I will not let my fear rob me of my joy!" "I will not let my fear rob me of my joy!" I will not let my fear rob me of my joy!"

So, you are home, and I can't get enough of your skinny little self. You are daddy's fragile little miracle, and I cannot love you any more that I do today.

Love always,

Daddy

P.S. Ask me tomorrow, and I will tell you that I was wrong today.

Dear Lily,

Tonight I am burning some CDs for your mommy, sisters, and I to listen to while we get prepared for you. There are so many things that I want to share with you -- my favorite books, all the countries I have visited, and music. I can't imagine life without music, and I hope you have heard the music bouncing through your mommy's belly.

There is one song that I have listened to a few times lately. It is the first song on your mommy's blog. It is called, Gratitude by Nicole Nordeman. At first I liked the song's beginning. I like repetition in songs, if it is used effectively. But then one day I stopped to think about the words. It is basically about someone asking for things through prayer. The difference with this song is that she says that if her prayers are not answered that that is ok, she will be thankful anyway. I guess that is the pinnacle of gratitude -- being thankful even when you don't get what you want. I'm strong in some ways, but I do not think that I am ready to say thank you if I do not get to hold you and love you and watch you grow into a beautiful woman. I am not ready to honestly say that I am OK with my little girl being in pain. I may get there some day; but right now I am too prideful to show true gratitude. I hope you don't hold it against me. You have brought me so far already. I have a feeling that you have just begin to teach me.

I hope your mommy's feeling was correct. Listen to our loving voices. Listen to the wonderful music. We are still here. We will never leave you. We await with arms wide open.

Love,

Daddy

Dear Lily,

It has been a difficult day for your mom and me. I'm sure you felt it. Because we love you and want to give you the best chance of finding your way into this world, we are going to use medicine to help nudge you along. I'm not sure what that will mean for you. The decision was difficult because we wanted you to control when you came to us. Well, little angel, you are going to have some persuasion in a few days. We can only pray that it is really in your best interest (if we thought otherwise, we would not have made the decision).

That decision was not the only difficulty today for me. You see, about a week ago I watched a great movie, called Instinct. I had seen it before, but I had forgotten the meat of it. Basically, it is about a man who lives among the apes for two years. He becomes part of their family -- he was cared for, trusted, welcomed. Then, because of some artifacts he had left behind, some local men were searching for him and began shooting and killing the apes who had taken him in. He did what I would hope any family member would do and defended them. The problem is when that mentality translates to society. He was arrested and put in prison -- for defending his family. He called our society "takers." Instead of living in harmony with nature, we try to dominate it -- to own things and take things.

That concept has stuck with me since, and I have thought about how I too am a taker. Just today, I was working on our front porch with my dad. There was a robin's nest at the top of one of the columns we were removing. My dad pulled it down and handed it to me. It had eggs inside. Well, a bee was in the nest and it frightened me. I bobbled the nest and a couple of the eggs fell out. Now, our society says, "At least they were just eggs." Well, to draw a parallel, you are still just an egg. You are still expendable. I couldn't help feeling as if I had just taken something really special away from that mama and papa bird. I had taken you from me, all because I was in a hurry to get a front porch built. Today I was a taker. I hope that those days become more and more rare.

I wish you were here for me to hug. That would be so nice. Come as soon as you can. I understand the science behind why you aren't here; but I can't help wondering why you aren't. I guess that is not for me to know. I know. I know. Does a chrysalis have a timer on it? But there is a limit to the safety your mommy's belly can provide. Come on out now. I'll defend you like the man did those gorillas. Fierce loyalty is a trait I admire, even if society doesn't.

I love you so much. I can't wait to show you.

Daddy

Dear Lily,

How are you doing lion cub? You are past due by our silly sense of time, but I have a feeling you have things figured out. Don't think that I am not worried, though. Your mom is convinced that inducing you is a bad idea. I can't argue with that. So, you need to come on out pretty soon.

Your mommy and I were talking about decisions and how they can affect later events. Your brother was induced, and he had distress during labor. We have read that inducing labor can do that. We want you to have the best circumstances possible for your delivery. We have also read that once a mother is induced for one delivery, they need to be induced for later deliveries. That is what is getting your mommy in knots. She is frustrated that she didn't really need to induce Gabriel; he would have come in a few days. Now, because of that decision, she is afraid we will have to induce you or have a c-section. Whatever happens, I want to be able to say to myself that we gave you the chance to be here if that was supposed to be. Life without regret is a peaceful life. That has always been my goal for this pregnancy -- to make decisions that I would have wanted made on my behalf, if I were the one on the inside.

So, please know (I know you do) that we love you -- so many people love you! And we are trying to give you the chance you deserve. But now it is your time to act. We are anxiously waiting for you to spring from your chrysalis, broken or not. Come out. Don't be afraid. I will keep you safe and warm. The world is a scary place, but I will protect you with the ferociousness of a papa lion.

I love you little lion cub.

Daddy

Dear Lily,

Well, according to my calendar you are officially late. That's OK. You take your time. I do want to thank you for turning your little body around the right way. Your grandma told me tonight that you did that so that you would have more time to grow in there. I agree. Your mom and I have always said that we will do this on your terms.

I was thinking about something last night. I have been holding onto hope this whole time. Before I knew you had trisomy 18 I hoped for a healthy baby. I didn't care if you were a boy or a girl -- just healthy. Then when I found out you may have T-18, I hoped that the blood tests were wrong. I had so much hope that I convinced myself that you were fine -- it was just a scare. Then when it was confirmed that you had T-18, I was heartbroken. I hoped that either the amnio was wrong or that you had mosaicism, which would give you a better chance of surviving into adulthood. There were days I hoped God would take you with him so that you (and I admit) so that I wouldn't suffer. Then there were days when I hoped that you would make it, even for a minute, so I could see your shining face. Even today -- right this second -- I hope that there will be a miracle and that you will be healed.

The point is that I have had hope throughout all this. You seem fine. Even today at the doctor, you seemed fine. My mind cannot fully accept that you even have this awful disorder that will certainly rob me of you. So, I cling to hope, like someone hanging onto a slippery vine, swinging over a deep ravine. The thought that stopped me in my tracks was when I considered what I would do when there was no hope. What happens if you don't make it. When all hope is gone, what do I cling to? I asked your mommy that question this evening, and she said that I can hold onto the hope (knowledge) that God has grabbed your hand and wisked you into heaven. I can hold onto the hope that one day I will get to see you again. I can hold onto the hope that you are smiling down on us, without pain.

I like that kind of hope. I hope I can grab onto it if and when I need to.

Love from the other side of the belly,

Daddy-

Dear Lily,

It was strange writing the date at the top of this letter. I know time must not mean anything to you yet, but to people walking the earth, it means everything. There are so many sayings involving time -- "Time is money," "Time flies," "Don't count every hour in the day, make every hour in the day count," and "Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday."

It's so crazy to think that today is the day the doctors projected to be your birthday (although I go with the 21st). I look at the date on the calendar, and I imagine all the birthday parties we could share. In reality it is just a day. It's an excuse to celebrate, though we should celebrate each moment, really. There are some families with a baby who has trisomy 18 that celebrate shorter intervals, like weeks, months, or even days. I don't know how I will feel if you are able to stay with us for a while. Will I want to celebrate each small interval? Will I be too busy trying to suck out all the moments I can with you to light a candle?

It is in these moments of thought that I laugh at the relativity of time. In the grand scheme of things, especially if you believe in the afterlife, our short lives are just a blip on the screen. In science, with numbers thrown around like trillions of years, your and my life are really insignificant. One minute isn't that much shorter than a hundred years. No one will record this day in the annals of history as the day one little girl was supposed to be born. But all that doesn't matter in the slightest to me. This day (or whatever becomes your official birthday) IS important. Each second I get to spend with you in my arms IS important. The eternity that I look forward to spending with you IS important. No matter what relativity of time you put to these next few days, they are important, and they will remain with me for as long as I have thoughts and memories. You are my little girl, and time is no object.

Love,

Daddy-

Dear Lily,

I listened to a song today. It is one that I have listened to a hundred times. Most of the time, I hear it as a battle cry for my own ambition. You see I have always felt a strong pull to be someone -- to do something special, meaningful. The song is entitled, "I Dare You To Move" by Switchfoot. I like them because they are a Christian band, but they are not in your face with it. I like the subtler approach. Anyway, while I was listening to it today, it struck me that the first verse seemed to be speaking to a newborn baby. The lyrics say, "Welcome to the planet/Welcome to existence/Everyone's here/Everyone's here/Everybody's watching you now/Everybody waits for you now/What happens next?/What happens next?/I dare you to move."

I have spent so many days and nights lifting you up in my thoughts. I have been pushing you to keep fighting. Well, I realized tonight that, like in the song, everybody 's watching you now. Everybody waits for you now. I found myself speaking to you as I sang the words, "I dare you to move." I dare you to prove everybody wrong. "I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor." You can do it. I am waiting here to catch you. You have come SO far. This journey that your mommy, our friends and family, you, and I have taken together has seemed so long. It has been heartbreaking at times. It has been heart-filling at times. I can't say that I would have asked for this trial, but I can say in looking back that I am better for it. The funny thing is (people say "funny" when they really mean interesting, scary, wonderful, etc.) that I have this feeling that our journey isn't nearing it's end. If that is so, just think of all the learning I still have to do. Come with me on that journey. You can teach me and I will teach you. I dare you to move like today never happened before.

Love as big as the moon is high,

Daddy-

Dear Lily,

It's been a little while since I have been able to write to you. You see, your mom and I have been working hard to get prepared for you. That includes working during our spring break to put away some money so that when you come, the focus can be entirely on you. Don't think that I haven't been thinking about you. In fact, I have been itching to get a chance to write to you.

So much has happened in the past week. I showed some people I was driving around the video of you on my phone. They were mesmerized. I guess in England that technology is rare. So, I felt lucky to have gotten to see you, before you are born. I think you are lucky too. That may seem strange to some others who are reading this, but I know you understand. There are so many people who know about you, who are praying for you, who love you already -- and you're not even born yet! So many people have no one to love them, no one to care about them. Not you. You have hundreds, maybe thousands of people who do. In fact, this past Saturday at noon, you probably felt a burst of love coming from all around the world. I'm sure you felt it. That's because we all stopped what we were doing, and we prayed for you. We prayed for the strength to love you as fully as we can for as long as we can. We prayed for the chance to see your face and to hear your cry. And we even prayed for a miracle -- for you to be whole. We thanked science for allowing us to prepare for you, and yet we prayed for the science to be wrong. It was palpable.

I have also been thinking a lot during this Easter season about the parallels between what happened to Jesus and what we are dealing with. I imagine how Mary must have felt to watch the horror that her Son was dealing with. In a small way I can empathize in a way I never could before. I imagine how helpless she felt as she watched her Son die. Again, I am dealing with that same helplessness. But then I think about Easter Sunday, when her Son defeated death. I imagine what it would feel like to see you defeat death, and I am overwhelmed. My emotions take over, and I cry. I cry like I never have before. I am broken all over again. I ask God through my tears to wrap you in his arms and to take care of my baby girl like his own. I pray for you to be born whole, but I pray even more that if I cannot raise you, that God does -- that he raises you up in gentle hands to be with our family and friends who are waiting for you in heaven.

In asking this, I am fully inside the fire. I feel like I never have before, or ever will again. I hope I can withstand the flames, the agony, the brokenness and come out galvanized -- better, stronger. You are the catalyst -- "nobody, not even the rain has such small hands." You are my Easter Lily, and I love you more each day.

Daddy-

Good evening Princess,

I hope you are doing well. I haven't felt you kicking in the past couple of nights, but your mommy tells me that you are still kicking away. I have reached the point that I am anxious for your arrival. I am not scared (not really). I am ready to hold you and kiss your head. I still get sad sometimes when I think about the possibility that my time with you will be short and that I will have to give you back. But for the most part, I am happy that you will be coming soon. It's funny how fire will affect you. By fire, I mean struggle or suffering. Some people get burned -- scared. They run away from the suffering, only to realize that their suffering follows them no matter how far they run. Others give up, relinquishing all hope for change. They accept their fate as cursed or unlucky. Then there are others (those with a great support system) who let the fire in. They allow the flames to take them and change them into something better -- stronger. Lily, I hope that I am strong enough to be the last type of person. I want to be galvanized. I want to become a better, stronger person as a result of this experience. I need to do that -- for you. You deserve it. You have been so strong, defying all the odds. I hope you continue to. I still hold onto that hope that all the tests were wrong and that we will be able to run and play together. I will not let go of that hope until I know for sure. I know, though, that you are exactly the way you were supposed to be. That may be sad for me and the others who love you. That's OK.

I my class today we watched March of the Penguins. It was a fantastic movie about the way of life for the emperor penguin. Their babies are so fragile in the frigid antarctic. Yet, somehow many manage to overcome the steep odds to persevere. Not all though. Some fathers come back after nurturing the egg until it hatched, then caring for the newborn until its mother returned from feeding, only to find that their baby does not return its calls. You see each father and baby learn each other's calls before the father leaves to feed. They have formed this special bond and then the father has to go away -- sometimes returning to an unanswered call. I wonder if he is excited to return. I imagine that these penguins have human emotions, and I think about how sad it would be to return, only to call and call without ever getting an answer. I think about how long the father penguin calls for his chick before he gives up. I wonder how long it takes before he is ready to try again. That is the life of an emperor penguin. It's not easy. God didn't promise them an easy road. He didn't promise any of us an easy road. What he did promise is that when we fall, if we let Him, that we will be held. I thought about you. I am an emperor penguin returning. I will be calling for you. I hope that I find you safe in your mother's arms.

I love you,

Daddy

This is a video I took from my camera phone during Jill's most recent ultrasound. Lily was moving around so much. In fact, she turned around 180 degrees (hopefully she turns back around before April 21st). I love watching this. We have a little lioness cub growing in there. ;)

Dear Lily,

Hey little girl. We have been busy getting ready for you to enter the world. Some of the things have been bitter, but most have been sweet. The sweetest of all was getting to see you all grown up at the ultrasound yesterday. It was great to see you smile, stick out your tongue, and even growl. It's so hard for me to see you on there and not get my hopes up that everything will be "normal" after your delivery. You are smaller than you should be, and you may have something going on in your little brain, but you seem so active. It's baffling. People say, "Watch. She'll prove everybody wrong." God, I hope so. But in my mind, I know that you are like a loaf of bread with double the salt. You can use the best oven, but it will still not come out right. The funny thing is that I would open my arms wide for a baby that was not normal. I just hope that you had that little talk with God, like I suggested. I hope he hears all the prayers everyone is saying, and he lets you stay with us for a long, long time. Only time will tell. That's the problem, though -- the unknown. I'm excited though. I will not let fear rob me of my joy! Do you hear that? No matter how much it may hurt, I will not drown out this emotion just to feel safe.

I watched a very inspiring movie the other day -- August Rush. I hope you heard it -- felt it. It is a story about how music is the tissue that connects all of us. In your honor, I have put a couple of the songs on my playlist. I was fascinated by the little boy's relentless search for his parents. Everyone told him to give up. The odds were to great, yet he believed. He had no doubt that he could connect with his parents with the music that was living inside him. It is one of those movies that allow you to believe in the impossible. I was touched. I was able to set aside my scientific mind and believe that maybe . . . maybe. Get some rest and keep growing strong. You have a great journey ahead, my girl. Just follow the music coming from my heart. I will find you.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

Daddy

PS Here is one of my favorite poems, alluded to above. It will let you know just how much I love you.

Love Sonnet XVII

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

-Pablo Neruda

Dear Lily,

I thought a lot about you today. You woke me up last night, kicking me in the back. That's OK, I don't mind. I feel like I have been walking on eggshells. I want to be excited for you to get here. I want to imagine bringing you home. I want to envision your smile, your wondering eyes, your little hands and feet. Trust me, I would rather think about all of that than to think about where we will lay you down, and in what casket. Some defense mechanism keep me from daydreaming about all the happy days we might have. Today, I let in one thought that maybe you are that one-half of one percent (or whatever it is) that has a false positive or that your case isn't as severe as others and you will be fine. I am not a superstitious person, but it is as if me thinking about those happy times will keep them from happening. I can hear you saying, "You're silly, Daddy." I know. I'm working on it, OK? What I can say with certainty is that there has never been a father who loves his daughter more than I love you. As Paul Simon says, "As long as one and one is two . . . woo-hoo."

So, you have about five weeks left to grow in there. Can you believe how quickly time has passed? I actually wonder how time passes for you. I mean, there is no clock for you to read. I bet it is getting a little crowded in there though (I hope, because that means that you are getting big). Sit tight little one. Mommy worries that you are not as safe in there, near the due date. I know better. There is no one on earth (me included) who could take such great care of you. She has a sacrificial heart, and she will do and has done absolutely anything and everything she can for you. She amazes me every day. I just hope you get to feel that love from the outside. If not, I know you can already feel it.

I love you little girl,

Daddy

PS Please feel free to wake me any night.

Dear Lily,

How are you little one? You gave mommy quite a scare the other night. She thought that you were on your way. You will come when it is time, we know that; but I want you to stay in there, safe and warm for as long as you can. Trust me, it is the safest place you will ever be. This world can be cruel, especially to those who are "different." You are fighting right now, and when you do come into this world, I will protect you. Just know that the longer you are with us, the more you will have to fight. I, and everyone who loves you, are in your corner. We will savagely defend you, but we can't protect you from every ugly thing. Some will think of you as less than they are. There are some pungent words -- retarded, defective, and others. They are like a hiss from a snake. Some will wonder why we ever let you come into this world. They will say, "How can you call that living?" To them, I will say, "Someone let you come into this world, and if you have that much hate in your heart, maybe I should be asking that person why they brought you into this world." Don't get down though. Most people in this world will love you. Know that we outweigh those who will turn away in disgust. Keep your focus on us. We will be sending love your way.

So, take your time. I can't remember what it was like in there, but I bet it's cozy and I know your mommy is taking great care of you. I make sure she eats her vegetables ;). I will see you in a few weeks. I can't wait to meet you, but don't hurry.

Love to the googolplex power,

Daddy

Dear Lily,

Well, the day you arrive in this world is getting closer and closer. I have to be honest and say that I am scared. It's OK to be scared, I think, as long as it doesn't get in the way of living and that you realize that being scared isn't going to help you at all. I've always been scared of the unknown -- what's under the bed; what's behind that bush in the dark woods; and now, will my little princess make it? I realize that there is nothing I can do but pray and hope for the best. I know that my fear is futile, because whatever will be, will be. But when your mommy told me the other day that we had about 7 weeks to go, a shot of terror went through me. God help me! Will I be able to handle this? Will I be strong enough to hold up this fragile little family?

I know I've already thanked you for your strength, but I want you to know that I am leaning on you, little one. I am relying on your strength to bolster us and to get us through this trial. It's in the time of trial that we are truly made. The glass vase must go through the scorching heat in order to be molded. The tree must die in order to be reborn the next spring. We, too, must rise above the pain and be molded, galvanized, and reborn into something greater. You, my princess, are going to be our flame, our winter, our little girl. How can I be scared when I have you to hold my hand?

Love,

Daddy

Dear Lily,

I don't think I have ever thanked you for all that you have give to me and everyone else who loves you. I'm sure you are not finished offering gifts to us, but I wanted to take a minute tonight and let you know that I think you're pretty great. Before you came into our lives, we were all a little bit more selfish, a little bit more unforgiving, a little more cold-hearted. We are all good people; you'll learn that in due time. But you have made us better. You have given one of your sisters a purpose, you have given your mommy a sense of empathy greater than she thought possible. You have given your older brother a pillow for now(that's just a joke). As for me, you have broken me. I am officially a pile of mush, sitting on the floor. I am waiting to be put back together, stronger and better than before. I have you to thank. Though I suffer each day with the uncertainty of your life, I have to realize that all life it fragile. I have to be willing to accept that time marches for each of us, and that no one knows his time. That is why we always have to be willing to pick ourselves back up. Though I suffer now, I know that this fire your mommy, our family, and I are going through is for a special purpose. I haven't been able to figure out why God has chosen to make your life so delicate. All I can say is that we have to take our cards and play them -- whatever they are.

So, thank you for being here still, when the odds said you wouldn't. Thank you for coming into our lives and strengthening us. Thank you for being a fighter. If only I had your strenght.

I love you every second of every day,

Daddy

Dear Lily,

I know I can sound like a motivational speaker at times, but I want to make sure that I tell you everything I think is important now, while we have time together. I have a quote above my room at school. It says, "Whether you think you can or you can't, you're right." I like this quote. Another one I read recently from Disraeli is, "Nurture your mind with thoughts, for you will never go any higher than you think." Finally, I like one by Michelangelo, who wrote, "The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark." You know, there are a million ways to say the same thing. And that's OK. You never know when your words will make an impact. I am all about goal setting right now. In my class, I am pushing hard on them to succeed, because I don't want them to suffer later. I want them to be ready. I feel the same way about you. If I could push you harder, yell for you. "Kick harder!" "Fight harder!" "Your daddy is here waiting for you!" Set your goal higher than all the doctors out there telling us to give up on you. You can do anything you want. We are following your lead, so show us you want to be here. Talk to God and convince him that you have work to do here. Tell him that your daddy needs you.

Love,

Daddy-

Dear Lily,

How have you been? I still feel you kicking almost every night, but when I try to feel you with my hand, I can't seem to find you. I got to take a "sneak peek" at you yesterday at the doctor's office. Everyone is taking such a keen interest in you. I guess that's a good thing, huh? You look like your older brother in the ultrasound photos. I try to imagine you chasing him around, swinging on a swing set, or spinning around in the grass until you fall down. Then I get sad, because I know that I will not get to see these things. There are lots of things that I will not get to experience with you. I just hope that we will get to play and dance and sing when I get to meet you in heaven. In a discussion recently I heard someone say (maybe it was your mommy) that by letting you go, we are putting you in good hands -- safe hands. There will be no pain or tubes attached to your body or drugs to keep you calm. I imagine walking hand in hand with you through a park in heaven. You have long, think curly blond hair and you are wearing a larger version of the outfit your sister bought you. We are laughing and joking. It is a beautiful day. That feels nice. I hope I have to wait a while to have this experience with you. There is a lot I still want to do here. But know that I look forward to the day when we can walk and talk. If you beat me to heaven, start picking out a spot for our walks, ok?

I love you like the ocean loves the moon.

Daddy

Dear Lily,

Your mommy and I have been talking about miracles lately. For me, miracles have always existed. They are ephemeral things like a beautiful sunrise, the laughter of children, the emergence of a butterfly from a chrysalis, or the birth of a baby. I have never been witness to any of the miracles that could be considered "biblical" -- no raising from the dead, no water into wine, no walking on water. I'm not really sure why these kinds of miracles seem to have been isolated to the first century, but I can no longer say that I have not witnessed a miracle. Your brother was born. That was a miracle by my old definition. But the fact that you have made it this far with an extra chromosome in every cell in your body is a whole different class of miracle to me. And when you come out to see me, and I get to spend however much time I get to spend with you, that, too, will be a miracle. Now, don't think that I do not hope and pray for you to come out whole and without disability. I do, every day. Our preacher, Bob, told us that people have it all wrong when they refer to prayer. They think of prayer as a basic, easy thing to do, without much to it. He says that when we say, "I'm praying for you," that's really like saying, "Don't you worry, I'm bringing out the big guns now." So, know that you've got the big guns of everyone that loves you fighting for you. Know that everyone will love you just the same, no matter what. And know that every day that you are with us is a miracle to me (by my new definition).

Love and hugs,

Daddy

Dear Lily,

I haven't written you in a while. Your mommy and I took you and Gabriel to see the family in Ohio. I bet you felt the cold, huh? Well, we had fun and you were on our minds, as usual. Your Aunt Wendy has a new baby. She is so precious and little and perfect. It makes me sad sometimes to think that others may think of you as imperfect. Don't listen to them. You are who you are, and that's perfect. God will not make you any way but how you are supposed to be.

I have been reading a book by the coach of daddy's favorite football team. It has already changed how I look at life. Isn't that neat, that you can read something and it changes how you see the world forever. That's why books are so amazing. I want you to love reading (which you will). Anyway, in the book he defines success like this: "Success is the inner satisfaction and peace of mind that comes from knowing I did the best I was capable of doing for the group." That's it, nothing that profound. But I have always defined success by what I have accomplished. The problem with that is you are only successful at the end. Life is about more than the end; it's about the journey. It's in the daily struggles and joys, not the end of your life. So, now with this new concept of success, I can be successful all the time, as long as I always do my best. However, that's not always easy.

So, even though you may be thought of as different or unconventional or imperfect by some, you are and always will be my little flower. You are already successful in making lots of people love you. That's something to be proud of. Keep up the good work.


Love,

Daddy

Dear Lily,

I want you to know that I and your mommy think about you all the time. We don't just think about the complications you may have or the limited time we may have to spend with you. We think about what you are here to teach us. You see, I believe that every experience in life is there to help you learn something. Things don't happen just to teach you a lesson; that's not it. It is just that every experience in our lives has the capability to make us better people. I want you to let those experiences in, no matter how difficult, and try to find the silver lining (that's an expression for making the best of a bad situation). No one wants to suffer (we already talked about that). But it happens. If there is any truth that you can count on, it's that life is not fair. Do not let anyone convince you that it is or will be. All we can do is let our experiences galvanize us -- make us stronger people. If we do, then we suffer less and less because of our experiences. Learn from your mistakes. I will never be angry with you for making a mistake. If you repeat the mistake, though, you will be causing yourself to suffer. Don't do that! There will be enough in life to cause you pain. Don't add to it. One of my favorite people in history is Thomas Edison. He said, "I never failed, I just found 9,999 ways that didn't work." He learned from his mistakes, and he was a genius. So, if you're like every other child I know, don't listen to me. Listen to the genius.

I love you to the moon and back again,

Daddy