Gone Too Soon

Dear Baby,

I want you to know how we longed for you and waited for you and hoped for you. Months and months of talking about whether or not we were ready to add another member to our family, you were a dream in our hearts. And when that day finally crossed over from dream to reality, Daddy and I were on top of the world. We knew you belonged to us.

You left us too soon, and the pain of that still surfaces now and then. Especially at times like this.(your due date is drawing near).

I’m not sure what went wrong, but I first discovered you were gone before you’d been with us, a part of me, 8 weeks.

How can such a big life last for such a short time? It’s so wrong, so unfair.

How could this happen? How could this happen? How could this happen?

Sometimes my sadness has made me feel guilty. Rationally I understand that all of those jumbled emotions are part of the grieving process, and yet nearly 7 ½ months later I still deal with waves of guilt.

I loved you from the second I suspected your existence was real. . . and my love multiplied the second your existence was confirmed. It was the kind of excitement that left no room for pre-meditating a fancy announcement to Daddy. I ran to the store to buy a test and ran home and then just ran right out of the bathroom to take a picture to show him my pregnancy test.

POSITIVE.

And then, when I first suspected I was losing you I was in a sort of dreamland of its’ own.

I cried there in our tiny bathroom trying not to be too loud or wake your brothers. My rationale told me not to rush to a definitive conclusion of your death, yet my spirit knew you were gone.

Would I be able to take it? Would I be at peace despite my sadness, my anger, and all of the unknowns?

I had such joy thinking about you four – your brothers and you – and the privilege it is to be a mother. 

Harrison still talks about our baby that died, and to some that may sound weird, but I welcome his questions and curiosity because it helps keep your memory alive. 

I don’t understand why you weren’t strong enough to stay.

But I’m at peace with not knowing the details of the why and I cling to the fact that I will hold you one day when Jesus makes all things new. I imagine what that day might look like, but the truth is. . . I don’t really know.

All I do know is that my tears will be gone then. I’ll hold you on that day.

Even in the not knowing, I trust Jesus with my future. And yours.

I miss you little one. Always will.

Please know how loved you were and are and that you’ll never, ever be small to me.

Daddy and I choose peace even while the war of this world still rages.

Love,
Mommy