Soren

Dear Harper bean,

Forgive me for not writing sooner, baby girl, but I figured you've been here all along with us, in spirit.

You have a baby brother, and his name is Soren Kinnor. He is about as happy and healthy a baby as there ever was, continuing to do his best to be the perfect, reassuring rainbow. Ten fingers, ten toes, passing every test by a landslide.

Soren - because we liked the name. And Kinnor, for you, Harper. Your Hebrew name, the closest equivalent to Harper we could find.

We always want him to know that he once had a sister. Without you there would be no Soren. And now that I am head over heels in love with our beautiful baby boy, I realize you have given us yet another gift. Thank you, little bean.

He is a demanding little guy. Wants to eat all the time, unlike either you or Shea. Which is good, because it leaves me less time to think about this place being haunted. Our room is down the hall from where we stayed with you. All the nurses are familiar, although I don't think we're recognizable to them. Identical breast pump, are that hasn't changed.

I wanted to have a happy ending here, in the place where we lost you. And Soren has exceeded my expectations.

I'm exhausted and overwhelmed and still a little sore from surgery, not too mention being quickly reminded of the uncomfortable days of early breastfeeding (particularly with your voracious little brother!), but I couldn't possibly be happier.

He is everything we wanted for you, Harper. And we will do our best to make sure our boys have long and joyful lives.

As one famous Soren (Kierkegaard) put it, "The highest and most beautiful things in life are not to be heard about, nor read about, nor seen, but, if one will, are to be lived."

To you, Harper bean, we dedicate this gorgeous, breathing creation, and we will try to do enough living between us for you, too.

Love, Mommy