To The Baby I Never Got To Meet…

Dear Baby,

I never got to meet you. I never even got to see you on an ultrasound. You were there one moment, and then you were gone. Losing you came after so many other losses. It didn’t feel fair. It still doesn’t.

But, I have to thank you. Thank you for sending us Sutton. I know you picked her out for us to heal our broken hearts and provide us with endless joy and love.

I am so grateful to you, baby. We wanted you so much, but if we had you, we wouldn’t have Sutton. And I can’t quite imagine that world. I know you watch your sister growing, smiling and laughing and I know she brought your love to us. Thank you for sending us such a happy, healthy, snuggly girl.

I want you to know you haven’t been forgotten. I think about you everyday. If you had come to us, you would be around eight months old. I wonder if you’d be a girl or a boy. I wonder if you’d look like your sister. I wonder if you’d have the same mega watt smile or goofy giggle. I wonder so many things.

I am still sad. I think I will always be a little bit sad we never got to properly know each other. But above all, I am just so grateful to you, baby. I wasn’t sure if I could get over you. I wasn’t sure I would want to try to love that much again. But then, you sent us Sutton and something amazing happened. My heart doubled, maybe even tripled, and I remembered it’s so worth it to love, even after loss. Especially after loss.

So, thank you, baby. Thank you for loving us so much even though you knew you couldn’t be with us. Thank you for giving us the best baby we could have ever imagined. Thank you for helping us heal and learn and grieve and love. Please know how much we love you, think of you and thank you. I can’t wait to meet you someday.

Love,

Your Mom

October 15 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

We lost our first baby in June 2018. We had gotten pregnant on our first try. We were anxious, nervous, in a state of disbelief, but overwhelmingly happy and excited. We bought gifts and planned to tell our parents on Father’s Day. We miscarried the Friday before. We were devastated. 

One in four pregnancies end in a miscarriage. Maybe even higher because some women never know they’re pregnant before miscarrying. One. In. Four. 

I never took my pregnancy with Sutton for granted. I checked my underwear for blood every single time I peed for 40 weeks. I couldn’t trust it. I walked on eggshells from the moment I got a positive test until she was safely delivered and in my arms (and then it was a whole new kind of walking on eggshells). I was so scared of something going wrong, it was hard for me to allow myself to picture something going right. 

If you are going through this, I see you. People will tell you all sorts of well intentioned things to try to make you feel better. It won’t make you feel better. And sometimes the things people will tell you are just so wrong, it will take all of your self control to not hit your friend/boss/family in their well-meaning, clueless faces. (For more on this, I give you this very short-lived blog.)

Nothing will really make you feel better except some time. And hopefully, eventually, if your heart can handle it, another positive pregnancy test. And someday, I hope with all my heart, a baby in your arms that you know was hand selected just for you.

In the meantime, be kind to yourself. Grieve. Cry. Yell. Avoid places where teenage moms hang out. Drink a bottle of wine and eat so much sushi. Your loss is real. It is valid and it is painful. I see you, I love you and I am sending you all the hugs.