Dear Andrew,

I miss you.  This week has been extremely hard for some reason.  All I can think about is how you should be here.  How you should be three months old and how we are never going to get to experience anything else with you.  My heart is broken without you.  It seems so unfair that everyone gets to have happy, healthy babies that are alive and we are left with only a memory of you.  I see so many women with new babies walking around.  These babies with their cute chubby cheeks and rosy complexions.  I can't help but stare in jealousy even though it makes me feel so much worse and brings tears to my eyes every single time.  (Thank God for dark sunglasses otherwise I'd be the crazy lady in the street crying.)  Why couldn't that be you?  I don't understand why I didn't get to keep you.  Why did you have to die?  I did everything I could to make sure you got here safely and it still didn't matter.  Now all I am left with are questions and a feeling that I've been cheated.  A feeling that seems to be growing stronger rather than weaker and an anger that I have nowhere to direct.  No one did anything wrong.  No doctors missed anything.  You just rolled yourself up in your cord and chocked.  So I guess a little bit of me is mad at you.  I know you were just a baby and it was there.  But why couldn't you leave it alone?  You were so close to the finish line.  So close to meeting us and becoming a family.  Instead, you wrapped yourself in your cord and died inside me and for that I am mad at you.  I know it doesn't make sense but for now I'm mad at you and I miss you and I love you.