Some of you may not even know we were expecting this upcoming August…we were sharing the news here and there, but I hadn’t done something cute like the kids wearing big brother/big sister shirts like I did when we learned about Chase. Others are at Inspire Boston wondering why we decided we just couldn’t come to speak this week…we were so excited for so much and so devastated all at once. This is a letter I wrote to our dear sweet baby who we never got to meet.
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Sweet, Sweet Baby,
I said maybe, maybe you should just stay with me. I miss you like crazy and you’re not even gone yet. I miss the dreams I had of you…of gardening in the summer eating fresh cherry tomatoes with my belly round and full with you squirming ready to join our family in August. Of letting the ocean waves splash again me, floating in the summer waves waiting for you to be born….waddling up the shore to dig a hole where I could put my belly and finally lay on my stomach after long nights of sleeping on my side.
Yesterday was an ordinary Monday…Mondays were little stepping stones here knowing I would turn from 15 to 16 weeks. I had a routine OB appointment and I brought your brother and sister with me. Chasey turned off the light when I was trying to pee in the cup. We all laughed. Emmie helped the doctor look for you…they were playing hide and seek talking about how you were a good hider. The doctor thought you might be a boy, a stubborn boy who was good at hiding from us already. In my heart I think you were a girl…I don’t know if we’ll ever know for sure…but I think of you as my little Rose. My surprise baby that threw us for a loop…when I calculated your due date in those early days and found out that you would be due to come into this world on my grandma Doris Rose’s 93rd birthday I just knew in my heart you were meant to be. We had weddings, a full summer…but really…who cares, my sweet sweet baby, you were for us, for this family, we were waiting with open arms for you. Your sister grew bored of the game…your brother stood in his seat and called to me, “Mama, mama, MAMA.” The doctor eventually gave up and just told us that an ultrasound would be easier…we went back to play with the toys in the waiting room. The last 10 minutes of ignorance. I should have savored them. I read to Emmie, I joked with Chase. We all climbed back up the ramp…excited to get a sneak peak at you before the ultrasound in two weeks…

There were two seats for Emmie and Chase. Emmie sat and held Chase’s hand and the technician put the wand on my stomach. Emmie whispered to your brother, “Chasey, look at that screen up there, it is so cool, we’re going to see our new baby brother or sister on that screen…that’s inside Mommy’s tummy.” Chase just nodded and I was in another land…I could see that you weren’t there…that your heart had stopped beating and I managed to say to the tech, “It isn’t good..” and she nodded wiping a tear from her eye and she said, “No, I’m sorry, it isn’t good…” and then somehow I was able to keep everything together and mechanically tell Emmie that you were joining auntie Jenny’s baby who was supposed to be born just two weeks after ours in heaven. Oh your brave big sister, I know she would have loved you on this earth beyond belief–she told everyone about you and said secret prayers to God begging for him to send her a sister…she was so brave and so sweet when I told her and she looked at me and said, “Mama, I don’t want her to go to heaven, I want her here with us…” and all I could say was, “Me to.” Her eyes filled with tears and her lip quivered and then she said, “Mama, God really must have wanted this baby,” and a big smile spread across her face and that was all of the crying she has done.

The doctor came in…she talked about options…I’m not sure I heard her because trying not to cry, trying to understand everything that was happening, it was filling my head and my ears. How could you be gone, my sweet sweet baby? My little burst of sunshine who was going to light up the end of the summer. The little squishy newborn who I was excited to hold and snuggle and nurse…you were going to be my last baby, the baby that made this family complete…how could you be gone? I wasn’t bleeding, cramping, nothing…in fact I was just kind of getting over feeling so sick and tired…so excited to move into the future of kicks and squirms and even indigestion. The walk to the car was long. I held Chase’s hand and Emmie’s hand and I held in my tears bu the bucket was filling. I buckled the kids into the car and sat in my seat to put on my seat belt and I cried. I cried for all that you were, for all that you would never be. I cried for Emmie and Chase and Daddy who would never know you like I had come to know you in the last four months while you grew in my belly…I cried because I forgot to ask for a picture of you…so the only picture I have of you is one from when you were a tiny grain of rice at 8 weeks old…you look like a happy little gummy bear holding onto a floating balloon (your yolk sac) and smiling up at us. Emmie was so proud to look at you, so excited to talk about you.

You’re still safe inside of me and while I never understood how a woman who lost her baby could live knowing that she was carrying around her dead child I am thankful to have this time with you before you are gone forever. For now I am holding you because I never will. Friday morning they willl take you out of my belly and the last 16 weeks will seem like a dream. The summer will come and go and the bins of clothes we had waiting to sort for you once we found out if you were a boy or a girl will sit in the basement unopened. We won’t but the mini van that we needed for the three kids, we won’t get a bunk bed for Emmie. We won’t be bringing you to Cape Cod with us in September to enjoy the sand and with us for a week of family fun. Sometimes life just doesn’t make any sense and everything seems turned on its head. Maybe someday everything will be clear, but for now my eyes are clouded with images of you.

I wonder what you would have looked like…I’ve always wondered if you would look more like Emmie, or Chase or a new baby all your own…and now that I will never know I miss you even more. I wonder what color your eyes would have been and what your cry would have sounded like. I was cherishing every moment of the pregnancy thinking it would be my last…and now I have lost a piece of my heart to you. We’ve stopped right here, right now, to savor every bit of you before Friday with a D&E when life will go on. We will all push forward…and I hope, my sweet, sweet baby that you will always be with us watching over us while you wait for us up in heaven. I’m hopeful that we will have another baby someday…but that baby will not be you, it will never be you.
With all my heart and all my soul I love you and will miss you always,
Mama
P.S. Daddy, Emmie, and Chase send kisses, hugs and all their love.
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