On the 23rd of this month, my daughter will be fourteen. My precious angel, who will never see a sunrise, or take her first steps, a child, who lived and died, in utter peace, bathed in my tears. I am reposting this .. her story,.... When Amber was born, I was handed this tiny little creature.. she only moved once.. and that was to turn her head as I caressed her cheek. I couldn't help but think how she looked like a little chrub.. a little angel. It breaks my heart even now to know .. I was right. I held her close, peering down as her sweet face, I whispered to her words I can never forget, words that are etched in my memory and my heart forever. "Mommy's here sweetling.. Mommy's here." Simple words, but in my profound emotional state, .. it may as well have been the complete works of Shakespear. I desperately prayed for her to take a breath, but that breath never came. She never opened her eyes, nor did her tiny fingers grip mine as I stroked them. Four minutes after that precious baby came into my life.. she left it with out even a whimper. There was silence in the room. Not a soul offered their condolences, noone walked over to take her tiny lifeless body from me,.. and noone, not even the stern doctor had dry cheeks. I held her for a long time.. she was barely the same size as a kitten, but everything was there. Everything a mother looks for.. ten fingers and toes.. two ears and a nose... her skin was almost translucent... She didn't look like a normal newborn, as anyone who's had a premature baby will know of. Her limbs were rail thin.. her head seeming as big as her body... but she was beautiful. My precious baby girl. I held my baby, as angels came down and carried her to heaven, a little light gone too soon. Noone bothered me as I quietly grieved.. the doctor turned his bloodshot eyes back to the necessary tasks, delivering the after birth.. washing me down.. life around me went on, but I was in my own grief filled world. It was, what I was told, two hours later when a nurse came to me .. in her hands, a satin pillow.. and a tiny outfit.. lovely white silk ribbons on the sleeves and bonnet.. she whispers to me... that I should have a picture taken of her.. this beautiful child... Things were a blurry mess of confusion and hurt as she helped me dress her. The outfit was a dozen times to big, and had to be tucked behind her a good bit. I remember telling the nurse that Amber was cold.. the nurse shakes her head and whispered that she wasn't cold anymore. The pillow was on my lap as the one.. and only picture was taken of my angel. Why I went into premature labor.. does not matter, for it would only mar the beauty of her life. The brief flicker that it was. It was not my fault, nor Ambers, it merely was something that happened. Over the years I have at times blamed myself, but I always remember that there was nothing I could truly have done to prevent it. I will cherish her always, and dream of her. I will imagine how she may be smiling as I teach her little brother about life's little things, such as putting a spoon in his mouth and not his ear. Teaching him to walk little by little, and read to him from a book. All of these things I would have done for her, but now, someone else cares for and protects her, and in turn, she watches over me and her baby brother. I find solace in thinking of her more and more now. And even now, with tears streaming down my cheeks.. her baby brother asleep against my chest... I cannot look upon her in any way except for love. "I was there when that beautiful child came into my life and I was there when she left." How precious a gift of love is that?