Dear Baby...
From the second I knew you were there I loved you! I dreamed of who you'd be, longed for the moment I could hold you in my arms, and smiled when I pictured your siblings adoring you. But I also was so nervous. I was terrified of going to my first OB appointment and finding out something was wrong. I have no idea what gave me that fear. I guess looking back I see that I knew all along something was just not right. But I ignored the fears and focused on my joy!! At that first appointment everything seemed to be going great. Finally we got to the end where I could see you through the ultrasound and my heart was beating so quickly. The doctor was very quiet, and very concerned looking, and I thought my heart might stop beating right there! She finally sighed a sigh of relief and said, "see that right there, that is the heartbeat. So this baby is alive, but there are some things we need to discuss." My brief joy at seeing your tiny little heartbeat was very short lived. She then informed me that your yolk sac was larger than it should be and you were also measuring smaller than you should. She said that normally when that is the case there is a serious genetic abnormality...often times leading in miscarriage. So she said take it easy for 2 weeks and we'll check again to see how things look. I cried the rest of that day. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even though we'd never even met...you are my baby and I love you so!! The 2 weeks drug on and on. I researched everything I could (which was not a smart idea as it brought up more tears and worry.) I found many different stories all ranging from successful births, to losses, even to twins!! I told myself I was preparing myself for the worst...but I knew deep down I was hanging on to every last hope that everything would be just fine. Even telling myself that if you were born with some disorder it wouldn't matter...as long as you were born!! Then the day finally came. I couldn't eat that morning because of another test they were doing during the ultrasound. It was a good thing, because I felt like I might lose anything I ate anyway. Your daddy and I went in, they checked the other things they needed to first, and then finally switched to looking at you. As soon as the tech started looking...I knew something was wrong. I couldn't see you, there was no movement, no heartbeat, nothing. Tears flooded my eyes and I stopped looking because I knew...you were gone. The radiologist came in and looked, they tried to take a closer look and searched for a heartbeat. Finally he turned to me and explained that there was no heartbeat, and at this point in time you should hear a heartbeat pretty clear. He told me you were only measuring 7 weeks and 3 days, only 2 days larger than the last ultrasound 2 weeks ago. The rest of what he said became a blur. Your daddy hugged me as tight as he could and together we cried. Our hearts were crushed with the weight of losing you. They sent us up to see my OB to talk about "the next step" She explained that there were no signs of an upcoming miscarriage, that I would need to take a pill to start it, or have a procedure called a D&C. Daddy and I decided together to go with the procedure so I didn't have to suffer alone while he went away to work. We also hoped it would help with the healing process to have it done as soon as possible. The rest of the day went on as if in a dream. We took your siblings to the fair, tried to smile and be happy for them, but in my heart all I could feel was the pain. That evening we left your siblings with grandma, and headed up to surgery. The nurses all tried to lighten the mood, and even your dad tried cracking some jokes to bring me a smile. All the while never letting go of my hand. It was quick, and we were on our way home not too long after I woke up. And all I could think on that drive home was....I feel empty. Even though I really physically felt no different than before...I could swear I felt the emptiness of you being gone. Each day I think it'll get better, and each day I find things that remind me how much I miss you. And then I ponder how can I miss somebody I've never met. But I do. I miss you. I miss all that could have been. But one thing that never changes is that I love you sweet angel baby. From the instant I knew you were inside me I became your mother, and fell in love with you. I'm so thankful to know that I will have the chance to hold you in the afterlife. That this is not goodbye, only see you later. My heart hurts for the time we will be apart, but it also feels joy to know you are with heavenly father waiting for me. Until we meet again...I'll be loving and missing you!
Love, Mommy
