Zoey Tamsyn Waymire. My tiny little blue eyed princess. She was with us 120 days. But began making an impact long before her first breath. She was very much wanted. And there was no decision to be made when we received her diagnosis: I knew I would carry her. No doubts. No question. I want to tell her story as often as I can. I want to talk about her. I want people to know she had a ton of hair. And blue eyes. And soft little bunny feet. I want people to know she tried to smile for us. And she had a sweet little cry. And when she was eating, you could see a tiny little dimple on one cheek. And I think she would have been very inquisitive. She always scrunched her forehead when she was looking around.
At the couples grief retreat we attended today, we were asked to describe our child in three words.
Zoey liked to be held. I’ve said it a million times– she belonged next to me. She did not like to be put down. So we held her constantly. We fit a million cuddles into her 120 days.
Those blue eyes were captivating. Bright, but deep. And knowing. And those tiny little feet with itty bitty toes. She’d point and stretch them like a little ballerina. And her beauty radiated from her. The beauty of a pure soul.
And Zoey inspired me more than anyone. She inspired me to see meaning in everything. To stop and soak in the moment. To see love in it’s purest form. To love without reservation. To have hope.
From running to raising money to sharing her story, everything I do in this life is to remember, celebrate and honor her life. I am blessed to be her mom. I am blessed she chose me. I am blessed to have memories with her. Lucky to be Zoey’s mom.