4-

I hate it when people ask if ill try for a girl. I have a girl. I had one. And i want to say your name, Grace Elizabeth, to put life into you, but they cant handle hearing about you. They dont want to listen to how I grew you for five short months and then you were gone. They cant understand how I never saw your face, but still I look for you in the eyes of every dark hair, brown eyed girl I see. How when I'm counting the boys, 1- Solo, 2- Eli, 3- Jonas, 4-             , I always balk at 4 and that split second of panic catches in my throat because I don't see you and just where did you get too? And then I remember- Don't count to four when counting heads on the shore. Don't count to four when calling the kids for dinner. Don't look for a fourth hand to hold when walking through a parking lot. Don't think about buying a fourth winter coat or budgeting for four kids at Christmas. Don't think about leggings and boots and cute shirts with glitter or anything pink because you aren't here, and I know you can't be here, but the spot you should be in is visibly vacant. I see your absence in their photographs where you should be nestled between three big brothers and where your seat should sit between them at table, between their spilled milk and boisterous banter. I can feel the warmth and weight of where your arms should cross behind my neck with every hug and it's warm like my face when I sit near the fire even though my back is always cold.

 That's what I want to say when people ask me if I'll try for a girl. I had a girl. I have a daughter. And like her Daddy says, we will have her for all of eternity. Just not today.