My dearest Nayantara,
On 26th April 2014 at 2:25am, I gave birth to you. You were only 25 weeks old, and during my 14 hours of labour, every single person in the hospital tried to prepare me for your loss. As I bled and screamed, your little head struggled its way out of me - and before I could even touch or see you, you were gone. I didn't even know if you were a boy or girl until someone told me, much later.
After 8 hours of sedatives, antibiotics and prayers, I finally got to see you. I couldn't see your face, your head, your hands - you were inside a giant machine with a hundred tubes coming out of your ridiculously tiny body. I only saw your tiny, tiny feet as you kicked inside the machine and I knew, right at that moment, my life has changed forever.
Your father tells me you look exactly like me. You have my features, my hair, my eyes and even as you sleep with your mouth slightly open, you are me. You kick and stretch your arms, and everyday, you surprise medical science by simply being alive.
Today is your 12th day into this world. And I would trade my whole world just so God would grant you the opportunity to see this world. Trust me, it's magnificent and I want to show you all of it.
If there are miracles, I pray you are mine. You are a miracle, and I cannot wait to hold you for the first time.