One woman spends her time creating memory boxes, so that mothers who lose their babies can put the items they get from the hospital into them. Another makes little blankets, while still more crochet hats and dresses or sew tiny, teeny diapers. These mean so much to me; the ability to hold them and, in my way, hold onto her still and remember how she felt in my arms. The volunteers made plaster casts of her little feet for me, another woman came in and took professional pictures of her and mailed them to me. The first hat they chose was too big, but they found one that was just right.

In Washington State, if a baby doesn’t take a breath, she never existed. We get no death certificate, no birth certificate, nothing. If it wasn’t for these donations and precious gifts, I’d have nothing left of her but my memory. So, I want to thank you—all of you—who take the time to crochet, sew, and craft these gifts. They mean the world to us. If you are ever in the midst of a crafting group and you wonder if this time you’ve spent is worth it, if anyone will use the items, or if you feel like giving up, remember me. Remember Rhiannon, who was too small to wear preemie clothes, who would have been hidden under a normal receiving blanket. Your gift is loved and cherished by all who receive it. Thank you.