Some days I never think about it. I automatically cut her food into tiny pieces because her aortic valve blocks her esophagus by 30 percent and I don't want her to choke. I don't think about the surgeries and therapies and tests while I put the medicine in her sippy cup. After lunch, she chases our dog and tries to catch a purple balloon while I do dishes and she laughs and jabbers at me the whole time. She's wearing a bright red bow she demanded I put in her hair that morning. It is bliss and I am soaking in every second of it. 

Some days I close the door and crawl into my bed. I'm just sad. And a little bit angry. 

Some days you tell me that you are sad too. I'm always surprised because you don't admit it often and you don't seem to be sad—ever. Is it strange that your confession makes me feel better? Is it wrong? I don't like being the only one sad. 

Some days I watch her while I weed the front garden. She's off by herself just walking around in her white Nikes and blue fleece while 8 kids play a game together nearby. She doesn't seem to mind. But I do. 

Some days we listen raptly to her singing in her car seat, her big breaths filling up strong lungs. In the front seat we smile at each other as we pick out the words of songs. Does she really remember them? Sometimes you whisper to me what you hear to make sure I don't miss anything. They said she'd never talk. Just listen to her sing. 

Some days we turn up the music in the car until we can barely think so that we can make it the final 30 minutes of our trip without going crazy from her crying. We are tired. We wonder if this will ever not be normal for us. 

Some days I have to leave the room. There are too many kids there her age. Too many comparisons. Too many reminders of what is lost. I feel like a hypocrite when I feel like this. 

You tell me she is beautiful. You tell me you have fun with her. I know, I know, me too, I say. 

You tell me she is perfect. You tell me God has a good design and a good plan and he loves her more than we can even fathom. I gobble up the words like the most delicious piece of chocolate cake I have ever tasted. I believe it. I just sometimes need the reminder.