What a Difference a Year Makes

September 18, 2013. One of the two worst days of my life. 

 I don't want to re-live it, because even when I started re-reading these posts (Parts 1 and 2) I started crying immediately.

I will never forget the indescribable feelings of utter helplessness and fear. The love of a mother for her children is an aching, consuming, throw-yourself-in-front-of-a-train-to-protect-your-child type of love, but that day, we were faced with my worst nightmare: losing my precious Anna. 

We had already lost our son, and here we were. Faced with the real possibility that once again, our sweet, loved, wanted baby was going to be taken away from us.

But, as we know, my little Anna is a brave, strong, beautiful FIGHTER and is happy and healthy today.

Perfect. Growing. Normal. A few scars, but no signs of the pain she experienced and as sweet and sassy as could be.

Despite what your beliefs may be, you can't look at that sweet girl happily swinging and not think someone is watching out for her. 

I know I do.