My Littlest Love Letter:

My Darling Lost Baby Boy,

This morning I woke up and you have been crawling through my mind. As I write to you now, the tears that live in my soul that bear your name, seep though my eyes and run down my face. The thing is though, no matter how many of these tears I cry, there are always more – I guess there will always be as many tears as there was hope, joy, plans, excitement and love.

I remember the day I was told you had come, for what I hoped then would be a very long time. I also remember the worry I immediately felt that your stay may possibly have been brief. My baby, I am so very very sorry that I was not able to hold on to you – to hold you. But please always know that that was my intention; it was my greatest dream as the adult, the woman, the mother I am. I cannot begin to tell you the visions I had of your face – wondering, would you look like me or like your father? Whose personality would be the one that would win dominion through you? I know that I prayed your smile would have been his – a beautiful smile for a beautiful little boy.

This morning I woke up and you have been tiptoeing through my soul. So many may think enough time has passed for me to be “over it,” for it to have somehow miraculously become “okay.” I understand their sentiment. I understand those who care wish and pray the grieving process attached to any loss is one that is quickly abbreviated… it makes them feel better. I understand. But what I have realized is, for those of us that do grieve, there is no “process” there is only “managing.” “Process” dictates there is a beginning and it follows a systematic series of steps that then lead to an outcome, a resolution. We however consider ourselves victorious if we manage to get up and get through every minute of every day. And, when with time we manage to stitch the periods between the gut-punches further apart, we consider ourselves very lucky.

The periods between my outward tears have gotten further apart, but they continue to drip down the walls of my inside.

I miss you. I miss who you could have been and what you should have done. I grieve for your missing out on a fabulous life. I think of you often and I smile… as I do now through my tears. But my God! I would have loved the opportunity to look at your face, to look into your eyes and see the reflection of my smile there. Sometimes I swear I can smell that new-baby smell that I just know you would have perfumed our air with. That you should have perfumed our air with.

Baby boy, here is what your brief visit did do for me – because of you, I learned to believe in miracles. Because of you, I remember there are few things more beautiful, peaceful and hopeful than love. Your brief visit was like a hug – from my inside, out. You showed up at a time when life was difficult, when there was hate, prejudice and destruction all around and you hugged me. With your leaving, this is what I learned – your presence demanded I focus on me and when you left, that lesson remained. The devastation of losing you, even as it brought me to my knees showed me I can rise up from pain. The rawness of your loss removed the blinders and revealed the things I needed to see (I guess the tears washed away the specks). Because you left me I am no longer afraid – to love or to walk away. Your loss necessitated I educate myself… about miscarriages. It left me in awe at the number of women, at the number of my friends who have experienced a similar loss.

Today is no anniversary – there is nothing about today that marks any relation to your coming or going. All today is, is another day that I miss you. That I cry because I was not able to ever hold you. Today is another day I wish

My son, thank you for coming. Thank you for what you have taught me and for what you continue to demand I keep on learning – about myself, those around me and this life. I am so very very very sorry I lost you; but please always know that that loss will never be in vain. You live in my heart, through my soul and always in my thoughts.

I love you.

Mommy.

I woke up and needed to write… this. I decided to share it for much the same reason I share everything else – through our communications we both learn and teach. There are many coping with loss – let those of us fortunate enough to have never experienced it, or those that have managed to arrive at a place where they are stronger, find a way to reach out and to prop up. Please appreciate that no matter how strong we are, how independent, there is not one of us that is able to navigate this journey called life, alone.

Love.

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