I held a baby... but the words wouldn't come

I tried to write this entry three or four times.  I still don't know if I found the right words.  This should have been dated September 1. 

Addison isn’t Gabbie.  Addison was born almost exactly one month before.  She has the first name we considered naming Gabbie.  She is probably close to the size Gabbie would be, since all my girls were big.  But she is not Gabbie.  I held her though.  I haven’t held a baby since I held Gabbie in the hospital.  I held Addison, and snuggled her to me, and rocked her gently to appease her, and touched her soft head.  I held her and I cried.  I didn’t cry because I held a baby, I cried because I’ll never again hold MY baby.  I cooed at her, made faces at her and talked to her.  I cried because I’ll never get to do that with Gabbie.  I didn’t cry because I didn’t want to hold Addy, I cried because it can’t be Gabbie.  I don’t know what it looked like from the outside.  I imagine to the outsider I looked like a crazy lady holding a baby and letting the tears run rivers down my face.  Who cries when they hold a baby?  Or maybe, we all should cry when holding a baby, it’s a precious thing that can be snatched away.  It can be snatched and we should hold them and giggle with them and cry for them before their gone, like mine is gone and I’ll never get to do that with mine. Ever.  So I’m sorry if I looked like a lunatic.  We all should look like lunatics more often when we hold babies.  So thank you Al… for not minding if I made it look like you let a lunatic hold your baby.