Dear Baby,
I carried you for ten short weeks – two-and-a-half months. It wasn’t long enough to know your hair or eye color. It wasn’t long enough to feel your kicks.
But it was long enough to learn to love you.
It was long enough to feel my breasts and body changing; long enough to think of names. It was long enough to dream up a lifetime of dreams for you, and it was long enough to feel unbelievable joy surging through us at the thought of parenting you.
And then your little heart stopped beating. We may never know why. We were devastated when we learned we were losing you.
After you were gone, my faith was profoundly shaken. My grief was very deep. Seeing little babies or pregnant mothers caused such a terrible aching in my empty arms.
I have learned that no life is too small to make an impact on this world.
Because of you, I am a better mother. A more patient, tender, grateful, caring mother to your brother David. When he came safely into the world, I learned to linger over moments with him and treasure them even more.
But in the midst of my joy that I get to parent a living child, there is something I never do.
I never forget you.
All my love,
-Mama
