Hi, son.<\/p>\n\n
This is the first time I’ve written here. It doesn’t mean I love you any less than your father does. Speaking of him… believe me: your dad is the best father in the world, and I’m so lucky to have chosen him to walk by my side in this life. <\/p>\n\n
Bronchiolitis took you away from my breast. The place where you should have been was taken over by a tube that went into your lungs. For a long time, I hoped that this tube would give way to my breast again. But after five months in the hospital, I could no longer keep my milk. <\/p>\n\n
So I had to find silence. A lot of silence. And a lot of prayer. To try to reconnect with you. Many times I failed. Plates were broken\u2014as we say in Brazil when life feels like a constant balancing act. <\/p>\n\n
Son, today all my energy goes into listening to you and watching you. Listening to everything you have to say through your behavior, your gaze, and your small signs. <\/p>\n\n
Amidst a million pieces of advice from professionals and family, the noise of traffic, behind a window with bars, under a gray sky without stars… trying to listen to you in the middle of all this chaos is a great challenge.<\/p>\n\n
In the middle of all this, I don’t know exactly what the Divine wanted to show us. But one day something unexpected happened: the entire floor of that apartment where I felt trapped simply broke. Right in the only space where you could play. <\/p>\n\n
And according to the doctors, that place was no longer advisable for you because of the illness you were diagnosed with. I don’t say you have this disease. I prefer to believe in miracles. I want you to be a witness that your lungs can regenerate. <\/p>\n\n
Your mother has always been a dreamer.<\/p>\n\n
A dreamer to the point of believing that one day you would return to our home. The house where I always imagined you playing with the little frogs and lizards, running through the yard, getting your hands dirty with soil, eating grass, catching ants, looking at our star-filled sky, breathing fresh air, right by the beach. <\/p>\n\n
I imagined myself cooking while watching you play freely.<\/p>\n\n
And this dream, which seemed almost impossible… happened.<\/p>\n\n
We came to Barrinha, the best place in the world.<\/p>\n\n
Here, people look you in the eye. People say good morning on the street. Here, people still take care of one another. <\/p>\n\n
There’s the village market and the local health clinic. Here, they do home exams when necessary. This is where I had all my prenatal care. I even had ultrasounds with SAS Brasil. The health agent stops by our house, talks, listens, and cares. <\/p>\n\n
Here you eat fresh fish, fresh lobster, food that comes from the sea.<\/p>\n\n
The neighbors pick mangoes from the trees and give them to us with affection; everything is genuine.<\/p>\n\n
Here, the noise isn’t from the city. The sound that fills the days is that of coconut leaves, cicadas, chickens, birds, dogs, and cats. <\/p>\n\n