To My Unborn Child

May 18th, 2014.

The morning started perfect. The sun was out on a chilly Michigan morning. I started my morning with my favorite pregnancy craving at the time: peanut butter on a warm toast and banana slices. I got ready for church and daddy and I drove to the morning service. Halfway through the worship service I had a weird feeling and ran to the bathroom, but it was a false alarm and just another pregnancy moment. I went back in the sanctuary and grabbed daddy’s hand and gave him a squeeze. He was such a proud daddy already, smiling and excited to tell everyone about your arrival in the winter. Well, pregnancy bladder yelled at me to go to the bathroom, again. But this time I didn’t come out with a smile. I froze as I sat on the toilet and saw blood.

I tried to keep calm and quietly walked back to the sanctuary and grabbed daddy and he knew from the look on my face that something was wrong. So we stood there, unsure what to do, scared, worried, confused, alarmed, and hurt. Did we have to say goodbye to you already? But the news that you were coming felt so new. It didn’t seem right to say goodbye yet. Daddy put me in the car and sped to the emergency room. My stomach felt empty. My heart was breaking. I tried to hold on and tell myself that everything would be okay but something inside of me said otherwise.

The doctor did all the exams. And then we waited. And waited. And did some more waiting. The waiting felt like an eternity. But when that door finally swung open, the tears started to well up in my eyes. I knew. I knew today was the day I had to say goodbye to you. It hurt. I lost a piece of my heart and I know I will never get it back again. I sat in the hospital room begging you to please hold on. I wanted to see your heart beat. I wanted to believe it wasn’t real. I wanted you to stay. But Jesus loved you so much and he needed you in heaven more than I needed you here on earth. You are special, my angel.

I knew you for nine short weeks. Those weeks will always be treasured in my heart. I never got to see your face, feel your hands on my chest, know your name, hear your heartbeat, or feel you kick. But I know someday I will meet you and my heart will be repaired again. I will get to rock you and cradle you and give you sweet mama kisses. And thank you so much for sending your brother so I can love on him. My love for you has grown so much and until I get to meet you, just know I love you so much and I am so thankful I had at least nine weeks with you.

Mama loves you.