Poor kid.
It's the only thought that comes to me.
First female born of our line.
A treasure to behold.

Born too early too know that she has to keep breathing in order to live.
An ill, ill omen.
Fragile at birth, sweet girl.
This family will be hell on you.

A niece...I have a niece.
Words nearly as weighty as, I have sons.
Fight, beautiful child.
Fight to live.

Be not a miracle that leaves me too soon.
Stay, that I can rejoice, please.
You and my sons, are the next of us.
The ones I pray can be better than we are.

My hope lies with you little one, you and your brothers in law.
The hope of helping something grow into this world that isn't ugly and in ruin.
Live, sweet girl.
Live and push forward.

It will become routine for you.