During the week of Sarah's death, I conquered every single one of my worst fears, including speaking in front of large crowds. This is the letter I wrote to Sarah and read at her funeral in front of more than 200 people:

April 24, 1999

For my dearest Sarah Frances,

 My darling daughter, you are and always will be the love of my life. In your short visit to this earth, you brought me a lovely bouquet of gifts and taught me a lifetime of lessons. You restored my faith in humanity and in heaven above. Your arrival and departure opened my eyes to the wonderful life I have and how blessed I am with a wonderful husband, precious family and amazing friends. I find solace in their amazing love for you and in the comfort they selflessly give to me in my darkest hour.
 I will never understand your sudden departure nor will the pain from it fully heal. Though you restored my faith in God, your passing has aroused an anger towards him from deep within my soul. But as your Great-aunt Lanee assures me, he can handle my ire.
 My time with you was precious and I forever cherish it in my heart. The void I feel today will slowly fill but the hurt will never fully heal. As Emerson says in “Give All To Love:”

Though thou loved her as thyself
  As a self of purer clay,
  Though her parting dims the day,
  Stealing grace from all alive,
  Heartily know
  When half-gods go,
  The gods arrive.

 Sarah bear, I miss your bright eyes, your smile, your cuddles, your sighs. My heart aches to hold you once more and to look at your beautiful, perfect face. In my heart, I know I will one day see you again. Though the wait is unbearable, I can survive it for my desire to hold you close once more is the strongest desire I’ve ever known.
 There aren’t enough words to describe this my darkest hour. Through all my pain and sorrow, my favorite words from Walt Whitman comfort me and remind me that one day, I will again be with you:

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
  If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
  But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
  And filter and fibre your blood

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
  Missing me at one place search another,
  I stop somewhere waiting for you.

Love, Mommy
 

This poem was written by my father for Sarah:
 

Sarah Bear, Our Little Angel
 

Sarah Bear, Our little angel,
Your Mommy and Daddy and everyone
Had so many dreams for you.
But Sarah Bear, our little angel,
We all love you so much and you
Knew you couldn't stay too long.
Little Sarah Bear, we know you're there,
Playing with the angels.
And your Mommy and Daddy and everyone knows
You're the best little angel there.
So Sarah Bear, our little angel
Wait for all of us there
And we will see you again.
 

This poem gives me some solace:

Thoughts on Mother Earth
By Deborah S. Guenther

I stand beside this tiny grave
And place the fruit of my womb
Into the Arms of Mother Earth.
We are well acquainted, Mother Earth and I.
We’ve often worked together,
My hands deep in her warm, nurturing soil
To plant the trees which bear fruit.
She has cared for the young seedlings
Anchoring them securely within her womb
Holding their roots deep inside her heart
Providing sustenance as I tended them.
We are a team, She and I,
The very best of friends.
We can look into each other’s heart
And know what is lying there.
Now I must entrust her with
The care of my most prized possession.
I have come to place my baby into her depths
For safekeeping
Knowing she will hold my little one
Against her breast
Rocking him gently
As she rocks the trees in a breeze
Until the Father calls us on the last day
To be reunited.

My sister Anna lost three friends in a car accident in 1997. At her friend Sarah's funeral, this poem was read. When I lost my Sarah, she dug it out for me. I have never been able to read it without crying:
 
 

I'll Lend You a Child

I'll lend you, for a little while, a child of mine God said,
For you to love while she lives, and to mourn when she is dead.
It may be six or seven years or twenty two or three,
But will you, til I call her back, take care of her for me?
She'll bring her charm to gladden you and shall her stay be brief,
You'll have her lovely memories, as solace for your grief.
I cannot promise she will stay as all from earth return,
But there are lessons taught down there that I want this child to learn.
I've looked the world wide over in search for teachers true,
and from the throngs that crowd life's lane, I have selected you.
Now will you give her all your love not think the labor in vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call to take her home again.
I fancied that I heard them say Dear Lord, thy will be done,
For all the joy this child will bring the risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shower her with tenderness and love her while we may,
And for the happiness we've known, forever grateful stay.
And should the angels call for her sooner than we planned
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes and try to understand.

Author Unknown
 
 

Here is a picture of Sarah when she was in the hospital at Good Samaritan's Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. She was amazing to all who met her. I called her my "miracle baby" because everyday she amazed me with something she wasn't supposed to be doing quite yet (like lifting her head at birth when she was only 3 pounds, 3.4 ounces). For more information about her birth, click here,  my husband has a page in her honor.
 
 

I love you Sarah Frances with all my heart. I miss you terribly!
Love, Mommy