It's been 7 hours and 12 days since you took your voice away......cue picture of me with shaven head and beautiful eyes with a solitary tear. I can't do the shaven head (only Sinead could really pull that look off and to be fair you wont have a clue in your 3 and half year life who she is), I can't do the beautiful eyes - you got yours thankfully from your dad and I can't do the solitary tear. Many, many tears yes. Just not solitary.
I remember when I found out I was having a little girl. So many dreams and aspirations. So much thought had gone into what you would look like, sound like, be. Don't get me wrong - the joy in having your brother was indescribable and the joy that he'd brought in his wake with his confidence, his joie de vivre and non stop talking was mind blowing, but there was something about having a little girl - a little Mini Me I suppose that was different. And special. Not more special than your brother. Different special.
Daddy and I would look at little girls on the beach on our pre children holidays, choosing ones that would look like 'Paisley'. Daddy still hadn't said he'd let me call a little girl that if we ever had one but he did indulge me in our game of finding a 'Paisley'. Invariably she'd have long dark hair, big brown eyes, tanned skin and be beautiful. She'd be gregarious, confident, funny, clever and musical. How lucky were we then that this is exactly how you turned out. From the moment you were born we all loved you. Even your big brother. Our little princess. Our clever funny girl. Our Little Miss Sunshine.
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