Sometimes I hold her hand a bit tighter, because I can’t hold his. When she lays her head on my shoulder, I kiss the top of it and I inhale her sweet fragrance because I can no longer smell him. I know it sounds weird when I put it into words, but admit you love the smell of your child (most of the time). I go out of my way to give her a happy birthday, because he can’t celebrate it with her. Her bubbly giggles mean so much, knowing we can no longer hear his. On Mother’s