Merry Christmas

A year ago today, I was in the hospital with Bella celebrating Christmas. I can't remember what she wore, and in all honesty I can't even remember most of the day. It saddens me that I just remember bits and pieces. I wish that I could go back and remember every single detail. I wish that I could've captured the day in my mind like some kind of video. Our first and last christmas together. I do know that I loved every single minute of that day, that I have no doubt of.
I do remember that one of her presents was a little stuffed pink hippo that played music. At night when I would leave to go home I would always turn the music on. I didn't want her to feel alone when I left. It was a horrible feeling having to say good night and to have to go home alone. The music that was supposed to be comforting for a baby was my good night; not comforting at all. The other day, I made the mistake of turning on the music. It made my stomach turn and made knots in my throat. I put it back in the bassinet. It makes me sad to remember, but at the same time it doesn't. That little pink hippo was a part of our journey together, and for that reasson, it stays.
I went to visit her grave sight today. It's still horrible to think that this is where I'll be visiting Bella for Christmas. I had imagined that as the years went by Bella and I would be baking cookies together and writing letters to Santa Clause. I had imagined that we'd be making hot chocolate with whipped cream on top, and that we'd cuddle and enjoy the day with each other. I can't believe that none of this is possible now.
 She's in a better place. God needed his angel back.  I know this is true. I know that the only way to go on with life is to have faith. I do have faith. I do believe. I know that I'm strong enough to do this. It doesn't take away the fact that I feel so incomplete. It doesn't take away the fact that my heart is completely broken. Or that every now and then I'm angry that she was taken away from me. I don't know when I'll be able to understand completely; maybe I never will. One thing I do know is that I will always love Bella. That she'll always live in my heart.
I thank God for allowing me to experience my little miracle. I thank him for those 13 months. I thank him for our one Christmas that we did spend together. I thank him for allowing me to be her mother.
I'm grateful that I was given the opportunity to spend my last days with her. I'm not sure that I would've been able to survive without those last memories. That smile. Those eyes. The brand new teeth. I'll cherish those memories forever.

I thought we had become friends; I was wrong. I never let myself need him, not even when I found out I was pregnant with Bella. I did it all on my own with no trouble. On the last days, I felt that we understood each other because of our love for Bella. I felt that we were on the same page. The day I lost her, he was gone too. My heart has been crushed twice. God must think I'm made of steel. He must really truly believe that I'm strong. I really wish he didn't. The one person that would be able to understand the pain I'm going through, has continued on with life. His life has gone back to normal. I'm happy for him, don't get me wrong. I believe that at some point, life has to go on as it was before; I'm just not anywhere near that yet. I'm angry at myself for letting myself believe that I needed him. I needed that other person to understand exactly what I was going through. I should've known that he wasn't someone I should rely on. I should've known that it wasn't his responsibility to be there for me. Why I thought he would be there is beyond me. I'm thankful for all the things he did do for Bella, though. And although I find myself extremely alone today, I am thankful to God for having given Bella a great Dad. He loved her the way that I loved her and for that I'll forever be grateful. My daughter deserved the best, and that she did have. The memories of them together will forever be embedded in my heart, and will always bring a smile to my face. Bella captured his heart, something she was great at.
Today life is not at all the way I had imagined, but I think it's safe to say, "If I survive this, I can survive anything." In two years I've experienced from the most beautiful to the most painful events in my life. I'm still standing, so that probably means that I'll be okay.

I wish..

Today I think it finally hit me. It's almost like I was hit by a ton of bricks. The realization that Bella is gone and I'm alone, has finally hit; it hurts more than I could've imagined. I feel sick to my stomach. I hate myself for letting her go the way I did. I hate the Doctors for giving up so quickly. I want to hate God for taking the most important person in my life. I feel like I could've fought harder, like I could've had more time with her. Why didn't I put up a fight? Why didn't I question things further? Why, if I had fought so hard from the beginning, why did I let them give up so easily? Why?    
I've been visiting her everyday, and each day it gets harder. I miss her so much, words can't explain it. My whole world revolved around my lovebug, and I loved every minute of it. The good and the bad days, all of it, I'd do it all over again in a heart beat.
The hospital stays were hard, but honestly, as long as I had Bella none of it mattered. I could've stayed there forever as long as I was with her. I know she's not coming back and everyone tells me that life does go on; but does it really? How am I supposed to go on? My heart is beyond shattered. I miss her smile. I miss her chubby arms and legs. I miss waking up to her face every morning. I miss everything about her. Everything.
I regret letting her go. I wish I could take it back. I wish I had my angel with me. I wish that I'd made the decision on my own. I wish that I would've found a solution. I wish that Bella would've outlived me.

Bella is flying with the angels..

It's been 5 days since Bella passed away, and it's barely starting to feel real.. I cleaned my room today, I had purposely been putting it off. I didn't throw anything away, I didn't move anything out of its place; I couldn't. The realization that she's really gone is starting to kick in. The clothes she wore on her last days still smell like her, that beautiful scent of hers. Her favorite toys are in the same bag I brought them home in; I can't get rid of them. I folded her blankets and put them back in their place, I folded her clothes and put them in the drawers, I put her little brush back in its place; I can't believe I'll never see that beautiful smile again. Last night it finally started to sink in, and it hurts. I don't want to let the pain take over, I can't just yet; I'm not ready for that unbearable pain that's coming. It creeps in occasionally, and I know it's going to take over soon. I didn't go visit her grave sight yesterday, and I feel horrible about it. Every single day since Bella was born, I never once went an entire day without seeing her. When I realized that it was so late in the day, and I wouldn't be able to go see her, the pain I felt was unexplainable. I know she's in a better place, but I can't help but want her back. I miss the way she fit perfectly in my arms, and the way those big brown eyes looked up at me. The way she'd touch our faces, as if she were telling us that things would be okay.
On November 30th, the doctors broke the news to us that Isabella was not getting better, and that we would have to make a decision about her future and what we wanted for her. Bella was not able to eat by mouth, she was very delayed, and physically she didn't do very much. She was aspirating her own saliva, which was causing her lungs to deteriorate. The option was to repair the stomach surgery and put in a treach vent. However, this would only lengthen her time a little bit. It was the hardest decision I've ever had to make in my entire life. We didn't want her to suffer anymore, she was tired and we could see it. We'd asked her to fight a battle that she would not win, and it'd be cruel of us to ask her to keep fighting for us. We decided to go for comfort care so that she would go as peacefully as possible, and wouldn't feel pain. It all happened so quickly, it felt as though I had been sucker punched in the stomach. We decided that we would continue with her care as we had been before going into the hospital, and when she started to show signs of the pneumonia taking over, we'd start the comfort care. I honestly didn't believe that we had so little bit of time. I had hoped that the pneumonia would clear up and we'd be able to take her home, but that didn't happen. On the night of December 2nd, Isabella had a really hard time breathing. It broke our hearts to see her gasping for air. The doctors did not give much of an option, other than providing more oxygen, which we knew didn't help at all. She was gasping for air for about 20 minutes, and we could see the pain and desparation in her eyes. We never wanted her to go through that pain, ever again. We made the decision to start the comfort care that night. A decision that I questioned every single day after that, until the very last day of Isabella's life. For the rest of her days she was pretty drowsy from the morphine, she hardly woke up. There were moments when she'd still open her eyes and reach for our faces. I couldn't believe that I was watching my daughter die. I hated myself, I hated the doctors, I hated God himself.
 She kept fighting, there were times when I thought that maybe she just wasn't ready to go. It was almost as though God himself sent the Doctor to answer my question. The doctor came in and looked at Bella, her breathing was steady compared to the last few times she had seen her. I told her she was still fighting, and she said, "Isabella is a strong little girl. She's fighting. Not because she wants to stay, but because fighting is all she knows." I thought about this, and it honestly made so much sense.
 I watched Bella breathe, every rise and fall of her chest. I could see the struggle, I could see her fighting. The following days happened so quickly. They gave her more morphine and it made her sleepier. The goal was for her to be sleepy so that she wouldn't feel the desparation of needing more oxygen. On the morning that she passed away it happened in a matter of minutes, but to me it felt like time had just stopped. She took her last breath, and it took me a little bit to realize that she had actually stopped breathing. I woke her dad up and we both knew. Her heart kept beating for a few seconds and then it slowly faded away. She looked relaxed, like she had finally breathed a sigh of relief. Bella had entered the gates of Heaven, she was flying with the angels.

Lesson Learned..

It's only day three of our hospital stay, yet it feels more like week three. These past few days I've been busy feeling sorry for us. I've been dwelling on all the things we're missing out on and all the things we could be doing. I want to be able to spend the holidays at home with Bella, not at the hospital. I want to be 21; instead I've watched it go by and I'll be 22 next month. I want to be able to take long walks in the park and enjoy the sunshine with her. I want us to be anywhere but this hospital. Well things can't always be the way we want them to be. The great thing is that I think they finally figured out what is wrong with Bella. They think the ring on her stomach might have slipped and this caused her to throw up. They think that this resulted in aspirating and then fevers. Fingers crossed. I'm hoping they've figured it out for sure. This is going to be one of the longer stays, around 2 to 4 weeks. We'll see, hopefully not. The surgery can't happen until the pneumonia is cleared up so it's a waiting game. I've learned all too well about the "wait and see" plan. Ugh. It'd be nice to have answers for once. So I've been sitting in this hospital room, letting my mind wander. It's been wandering to places it shouldn't; that dark place where I wish this wasn't happening to us. I wonder sometimes, where is God now. When my daughter is going through all these things, where is He? How about when she's poke 50 million times, where is He then? And just when I start to wonder if I truly believe, He manages to make a believer out of me. Just like that. He puts someone or something in my path to remind me that we are not alone, and that we are only given as much as we can handle.
On our first day here, I dreaded having to share a room. Oakland, I tell ya, they seriously need to get a bigger pediatrics unit with PRIVATE rooms. Geeze. Anywhoo, I walk into the room, dreading who might be on the other side of the curtain. Another obnoxious parent who tunes their child out? Maybe someone who is constantly on their cell phone while my daughter tries to sleep? Or the lovely parents that listen to the TV full blast oblivious to the fact that they have neighbors? But no, not this time, instead I was greeted by a warm smile. The lady came over and introduced herself. I'm so bad with names nowadays, but she was a total sweetheart. She had been here for a few days and she offered to help me get settled in. She looked at Bella and told me how cute she was and that if I needed anything to not hesitate to ask, She knew how to do everything since she had been here for a few days. I knew how to do all the things she was showing me (we had been in this same place, in the same room, for a few days, a few weeks ago) but I didn't have the heart to tell her that, so I let her show me. It was nice to have such a nice neighbor, this was new, I liked it. As the day went on, I got to know her a little better. She told me about her 7 year old son, he had a pneumonia too, but it was rather severe. He'd had surgery and was probably going to be here for a while. I also learned that her husband is disabled and that she is 16 wks pregnant. I was rather surprised that she was so calm. She explained that she worked two jobs since her husband couldn't work. That really got to me. This petite little woman was supporting her entire family by working two jobs, her son had just had surgery and her husband would need one soon also, AND she was pregnant. I could honestly not begin to imagine how hard things must be for her. I admired her strength, and her ability to look at the bright side. She assured me she'd be okay. That first night, I didn't see her rest at all. She kept rubbing her belly and whispering something. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had felt sorry for us earlier that day, and then I felt blessed. Extremely blessed. I have a job, at times it can get stressful, but I couldn't imagine working two jobs. That was His first lesson for me during this stay.
Lesson #2 came today. I met a 19 year old girl; she's a single mother of a medically complicated child, like mine. Her daughter was born with problems in her intestine, they weren't attached or something like that. The girl is a single mother and spends almost all of her time here. Since we moved to this room, I've seen her leave once, but it was only to get something to drink and then she was right back at it. She reads to her daughter and tells her all kinds of beautiful things. She is on top of the schedules that they have her daughter on. I am amazed at how wonderful she is. But I'm really impressed that she can do this on her own. Wow. I guess, if you have to do something and you have no other choice, you'll do it. Also, by far, her age is what got to me. She's a baby herself, and she's caring for this little girl; but she's doing a wonderful job, and I'm sure that there is no one that could've done it better.
These hospital stays never fail to remind me that things could be worse. I see all these amazing parents that have so much going on, and I can't imagine dealing with all those things. My daughter has a lot of medical problems, and I'm sure some people wonder how in the world we deal, but we just do. We're all given only as much as we can handle, no more and no less.

I've become that annoying mom..

Another hospital stay, thank goodness this one was only 3 days long. Still no answers as to what is causing the fevers and she's still throwing up, but I think being home is better for us. The nurses don't do anything that I can't do at home. San Francisco Kaiser feels like a vacation spot compared to Oakland Kaiser, so I can't complain too much. During this stay I became the annoying mother that questions everything. Why are you going to try to put in an IV? You poked her 3 times already, your done. Thank you. What? You want more blood? Ha! I think not. I know it's best to let the doctors do what they think is best, and I probably took my frustration out on the doctors that had no idea why I was so upset, but I've had enough. Our last hospital stay involved various tests that had nothing to do with the fevers, numerous blood draws over and over again, and futile attempts to get an IV. We ended up going home with no answers, and they have yet to give us an answer. So when we walked into that ER yet again, I was adament about not letting them use my daughter as a push pin. She had another UTI, just as I had suspected. Go figure. Something isn't completely right, I know it, but I feel like I'm backed against a wall here. I need to be more aggressive, I should probably demand a second opinion, but I just don't know how to do it. Everyone has a suggestion, everyone thinks they know what is going on with Bella, they all think its easy. It's not. I'm dealing with work, school, and Bella's current issue. She has ongoing fevers that only occur during the very early morning and she's throwing up milk despite the fundoplacation surgery. I know I need to get things going and try to get answers, but getting the doctors is close to impossible. I'll figure it out, I've got to.
This week has been so hectic, work has been beyond stressful, I couldn't even take the time off to be at the hospital, and school.. well that had to be put on hold for this week at least. Bella's dad was a huge help. I don't think I give the guy enough credit sometimes, he made things so much better. He stayed with her while I was at work and gave me a chance to get some sleep. He's great with Bella, it makes my heart melt when I see them together. He adores her, just like she adores him; It's truely a beautiful sight. We have our differences, but I think we're doing a pretty good job so far with Bella. I pray that we will remain friends for Bella's sake, she needs parents that love her and don't lose sight of that, not parents that are at each other's throats all the time. We've had a rough first year, there's no other way to describe it, but I know that we both love Bella and that's all that matters. I love him for loving her with that same unconditional love that I have for her. Isabella is my world, just like she's his too. I'm not exactly sure what God has planned, but I trust him. We have an exceptionally wonderful little girl, and I know that our future holds something extrodinary.

Cinderella.. (Well more like Sleeping Beauty)

Our first Halloween was a success; well second, but this one was our first official dressing up Halloween :) Isabella dressed up as Cinderella. She looked absolutely adorable! The costume was so last minute, I didn't get it until this morning! What a horrible planner, but I've just been so busy lately! I have to admit though, the costume couldn't have been more perfect!

Wouldn't you agree?

It fit her personality pefectly, this little diva is such a princess!

I was so excited that I was actually able to find her a costume! She only wore it for less than an hour, but I got pictures! Yay! My little party animal was supposed to stay up with me to hand out candy, but by 6pm she was passed out.. I think the more appropriate costume would've been Sleeping Beauty! I'm sure there was too much excitement with all my little cousins running around. Those kids seem to wear her out, can't blame her though, they wear me out by just looking at them!
Overall, I think, today was a success. A relaxing Sunday before a busy week. We have so many appoinments this week. They kept telling me that the first year is the hardest. Well we hit the big first year on Thursday, and from the looks of my calendar that doesn't seem to be very true.. *sigh* Oh well, maybe they meant a year and a half.. fingers crossed :) This little girl sure knows how to keep us busy!

Happy Halloween!

Courage..

The day is approaching quickly. These past few days have been such an emotional roller coaster. I feel the need to write, only because talking about this isn't possible. I don't think I can do it without shedding a tear or two..
October 28th, the day my little angel made her way into this crazy world. I remember the day, as though it were just yesterday. I remember the calmness; I'm not sure I'll ever understand where it came from, but it was there. My trip to the hospital was a blur; nothing exciting, simply a drive there. It never dawned on me that on that very day I would officially become a mother. I expected this to be a false alarm, like the first time. Bella wasn't supposed to be born for another two months. I walked into labor and delivery, and I remember worrying about whether I'd make it to work on time. It was around 9am, and all I could think of was if I'd be out of there before 12. A nurse was waiting for me; she took me into triage and hooked me up to a fetal monitor. She kept asking me questions, not sure what they were, but I answered them; I'm sure of it. Of all the questions, I only remember one, "Are you afraid?" I didn't look at her when she asked, I couldn't. I didn't want to admit my fear out loud, if I did Bella might hear me. Silly, I know, but I couldn't bear the thought of not being strong for her. In all of the commotion, I hadn't noticed that my contractions were less than 5 minutes apart. The pain was not excruciating, it took my breath away at times, but it was not unbearable. The doctor came in and announced that this was the day. Isabella was going to make her way into the world, whether we liked the idea or not. I remember being excited to finally meet my little sunshine, but I instantly felt guilty; I knew she wasn't ready to come out yet, she needed more time. She needed to be bigger and stronger for the surgery that was to take place soon after her birth. I remember panicking at the realization that Bella would have to be transferred right after birth to Oakland. Who will ride with her in the ambulance? Will she be big enough for the surgery? What if something happens on the way? The Bay Bridge was closed that day, so that would mean that she'd have to be taken all the way around to cross the San Mateo Bridge. I prayed that by some miracle she'd come out completely healthy. I prayed. I thought He didn't hear me.
The room was full of family and friends, all patiently waiting for Bella to make an appearance. We talked and laughed nervously, no one wanting to touch the subject of her being so small, and the possibility that she wouldn't make it through. Bella's heart was racing; I could hear the thumping in the background. It was beautiful. Never once did it falter, her heart was beating strong, and I knew she was fighting.
I remember the Doctor coming in to take me to the operating room; my mom went with me. The room was bright, almost too bright. There was a huge window that overlooked San Francisco. I remember watching the people go on about their lives, they looked so carefree. I almost wanted to just go join them. I wanted to say, "Hey, I've thought about this, and I think I'm not ready. Can we hold off til December?" Right. Like that was going to happen. The delivery was quick, three pushes and she was out. Isabella Valerie entered this world, this crazy world. The first thing I noticed was the hair! My goodness; it was everywhere, her back, her shoulders, you name it. She was breathing, trying to take a deep breath. This was the only glimpse I caught before they swept her away. The doctor rushed out of the room with her, and the door closed behind her. I was speechless. Everyone talked to me, I know they did, but I don't remember any of it. I sat there in complete aww, she was really here. The doctor brought her back in and by this time they had cleaned her up and wrapped bandages around her lower back. There is the opening; I'd forgotten it was there. I had been so wrapped up in her being born, that I'd completely forgotten about the Spina Bifida. The doctor leaned Bella in for me to give her a quick kiss and again she was whisked away, off to the NICU she went.
Suddenly, reality struck; I could no longer protect her from everything. Bella was a part of this world, and all I could do was try my hardest to protect her, but the reality was that we were no longer one. She was now her own little person. My stomach hurt, not from having had a baby, but from the sudden realization. They wheeled me back to my room, where family and friends were waiting. They talked excitedly about having caught a glimpse of her as she was taken to the NICU.
When I was finally able to make my way into the NICU to see her, it was heartbreaking to see my baby so helpless. She was strong, there was no doubt of it, but it saddened me that life was already hard for her. The doctors were working hard to get her transferred to Oakland so that the neurosurgeons could take a look at her. They let me know that I would not be going with her. I had to wait until I was discharged the next morning. All I could think of was the drive there. How would I survive knowing she was on the road?
The ambulance crew came to get her; they were going to transfer her into their incubator so that they would be able to drive her safely. My mind was racing with all the possible things that could happen, I couldn't believe God. Had He not heard me? I looked over at one of the guys taking Bella, and on his arm was a tattoo of the Virgen de Guadalupe. It was then that I knew, she'd be okay. He was telling me so. I cannot explain the reassurance I instantly felt, in my mind, this was the sign I needed. I'll never forget that man or that image.
The next morning I made sure to be discharged as soon as possible. I remember the drive to Oakland; it seemed like the longest car ride ever. I just wanted to there already. Bella had been taken into surgery hours before and I wanted to be there when she got out. I anxiously waited in the lobby of the Oakland Kaiser for what seemed like an eternity. At last, the doctor made his way down to the lobby, he said, "The operation was a success. I managed to close the opening in her spine, despite the little skin I had to work with. However, she's paralyzed from the hips down.. She'll never walk." His update was as though he were talking about the weather. No emotion, no empathy, nothing. My heart was broken, the pain I felt was unbearable, I cried uncontrollably right there in that lobby; I didn't care who saw. I let it out, and when I was done, I collected my emotions and promised myself that I wouldn't let them get the best of me anymore. There was a little girl waiting for me on the 4th floor, that needed me to be strong. She was fighting for life, and I had to be right there with her, fighting every step of the way. I don't know where I found the courage to get up and keep going, but I did.
Today, Bella keeps on fighting, and all I can do is try to keep up. I have to be her rock because if I'm not, who will be? There are days when I just cry and cry, cursing my stupid luck, my daughters luck. Sometimes I wonder why us? why not someone else? and then I remember.. Because we are strong, and we can do this. Because God trusts us enough to handle this, and we will.

My little cupcake's FIRST birthday party!

I had so much fun planning for Bella's first birthday. I wanted to do something creative and fun, but most importantly kid oriented. Of course, to Bella it wouldn't make a difference whether all of the decorations matched or not, but to me it mattered. I spent so much time planning her birthday, hoping to make it a special day for Bella. I learned how to shop on ebay, and I'm convinced that I saved a ton of money. Bargain shopping at its finest! I was able to do a cupcake theme, and in my opinion, everything looked great. I dressed Bella in the cutest tutu, which she didn't mind at all! I love that kid, she'll let me put anything on her; maybe because she can't talk? I like to believe it's just because she loves my style! :) I have to admit, I was very nervous the day before. I had no idea was a hostess does! Tita said to just make sure everyone ate.. Okay, no problem, just direct them towards the tacos, right? The tacos were a good idea, no cooking; and cleaning up was a breeze! SCORE! I was worried that my munchkin would not be very fond of the idea of being around so many people, boy was I wrong. My social butterfly looked like a natural around so many people.. total diva.
I loved that our friends and family were all together. All the people that love Bella were under the same roof, it truly was a blessing. I can't begin to thank God enough for all of these wonderful people. He knew what he was doing when he sent Bella to me. He knew that she would have a wonderful set of people to love her unconditionally. When they see Bella, they do not see a child with a disability or delays, they see Isabella: the amazing almost one year old, that loves being the center of attention. This little girl has single handedly changed each and every one of our lives. She has shown us what a miracle looks like with each smile and every giggle. Who would have thought, months ago, that this little person would have the ability to capture your heart with just one look in your eyes? Yes, God definitely knew what he was doing. She is lucky to have such wonderful family and friends, but most importantly, WE are lucky to have such a beautiful angel in our lives.

Here is Isabella the night before her birthday party.. Did I mention it was around 1 am? Yes, she's a party animal.. Just wonderful -.-

Today is the day..

I've contemplated starting a blog for some time now, it's probably been a little over a year now. A lot of people say it's a great way to relieve stress, so here goes nothing. I'm going to give this a try. Wish me luck. I'll be typing away, just me, my thoughts, and the keyboard. Yes, today is the day..Today isn't just any regular day, it is actually a very special day. Today I will be celebrating my daughter Isabella's first birthday. I have been waiting for this day for months! I can't believe the day is finally here. I know I went a little.. I mean maybe a lot, overboard, but I just couldn't help it. It's her FIRST birthday, such a huge accomplishment. A year ago I would've never thought we'd be where we are today. Despite all of Bella's health issues, she is such a content and beautiful baby. She has a smile that can brighten even the worst of days. She definitely knows how to keep us busy, but its all worth it at the end of the day. I couldn't imagine life without this beautiful little girl.
Just a year ago, I remember feeling so overwhelmed and afraid because I didn't know what to expect. I had stopped imagining my perfect child; I lived in fear of what our future would hold. Yet, here we are today, as blessed as could be. I can't remember ever being this happy. Every single day holds a brand new blessing. Her smile, her laughter, the way she observes any one within a five mile radius, all of those things are blessings to me. A year ago, it was expected that I would have a child with a severe disability; a child that might not have any quality of life. I don't even want to imagine what life would be like if I had listened to those doctors. I doubted myself every single day. I prayed to God that he would just make her better, and that by some miracle she would be born completely healthy. I was angry with Him for making me go through something so difficult. I envied every single person that had a healthy child. I felt that I, too, deserved to have a healthy child. On October 28th, that all changed. The minute I saw her, I knew.. We were meant for each other. God was not punishing me, on the contrary, He had given me the most beautiful, perfect child especially made for me. So today, we will celebrate Isabella's life. We will celebrate my beautiful blessing. I can't thank God enough for all the wonderful friends and family that we have. I can honestly say, my daughter has love pouring out of her ears, and I couldn't be happier.