They say...

....scars tell a story.

Well then my dear child will have a lot of stories to tell.

Natalee is covered in scars and it becomes more and more apparent to me the more her little body grows.


I see them each more and more clearer.

Each one is a different prick, cut or slit on her.

I hate it. I hate every last one of those scars.

On her feet. On her hands, arms, legs, head, belly. Every single one of those pricks, cuts and slits.


They forever changed her beautiful soft skin.


There are literally over a hundred.


Those scars are on her body and my heart.


Forever.

And ever.

A reminder.


A reminder of how she almost died.


Many times over and over again.


How so sick she was.


The feelings of uncertainty are in those scars.

The feelings of sadness.


How tiny and innocent and vulnerable she was.


How she should never have gone through any of it.


But those scars also remind me of how she healed. 


And for that I love them.

I love them so much.

For without those scars my little girl wouldn't be here.

She wouldn't be here laughing and playing.  

Running and jumping.

Babbling and giggling.

And those scars tell a story of just how lucky she is.

How blessed she is.

How meant to be here she is.


How so many people fought to save her little life.


I am so thankful for those scars.


And this sweet little girl.


For without the scars, my little girl would not be here.