Dear Andrew,

It's the last day of the year of your birth.  I can't say I'll be sad to see this year go.  It started out as a year we were both so excited for.  The year we were going to become a family!  There would be three of us ringing in 2014!  The year we would finally feel like something we did mattered...the year of you.  The year I would become a mother with a son.

Instead from June 8th this was the year from hell.  Truth be told most of it is one big blur of tears and misery.  It's the year my heart broke and never recovered.  It's the year where I had a life before and a life after.  It's the year I truly discovered what grief feels like.  It's the year that changed who I am and how I think about everything in my life.  Work is significantly less important.  Family is significantly more important.  You are my most important.

2013 was the year I realized that your father is the best thing that ever happened to me and the year I fell in love with your chubby little face.  It's the year I found out all I want is you and yet I can never hold you again.  Even seven months later my arms still ache to hold you one last time. 

I guess 2013 is also the year of regrets.  I regret that we didn't spend enough time with you before we buried you.  I regret that I didn't kiss you enough and tell you I love you enough before we buried you.  I regret that I didn't spend every second cuddling with you for the short few days we actually were able to see you, even if it was only your body.  I wish I had spend more time cuddling with you and taking pictures of you since I didn't realize at the time they were all I'd have left as proof that you existed.  I didn't realize that would become my most precious possessions.

So while I am glad that this year is over, I also realize that tomorrow isn't going to change anything.  I'll still miss you tomorrow.  I'll still be grieving your loss.  I will still constantly think of you.  I will still wake up with a pain in my hear from losing you.  And I'll always love you.

Dear Andrew,

We bought these for you.

Dear Andrew,

Merry Christmas! This was a strange Christmas. No one talked about you today except your father and I. But it didn't seem to be a real Christmas for anyone. There were no presents and no one even said Merry Christmas. It makes me think everyone is thinking of you but no one is saying anything. I just wish one person had mentioned your missing presence today besides me. I know everyone misses you but sometimes it would be nice for someone else to mention you on holidays and at weddings.

I know your other grandparents went to visit you yesterday. I hope you liked their visit and know that even though we can't visit you today we are still thinking about you and loving you. Wherever you are I hope you are being taken care of and are happy and know that we love you.

Love you and miss you baby boy.

Dear Andrew,

It's Christmas eve and your missing presence is felt by all of us.  I think we've talked about you as much as if you were here in real life.  It's a hard holiday.  One that is build around a baby and brings home the fact that you are missing.  It's such a children's holiday and there are babies everywhere.  I thought it might not be that bad at home but it is.  Everywhere we go there are little babies dressed up in Christmas clothes and posing for photos with Santa.  You are supposed to be here in your little Christmas pjs.  You are supposed to be having your first photo with Santa.  You are supposed to be here.

I wonder if you would've been a happy baby.  Would you have screamed when we put you on Santa's lap?  Would you have giggled or cried?  What would it be like to be cuddling with you here in the snow and freezing cold?  What would you be like with your grandparents?  Our lives should be so different right now.  So much happier and filled with excitement.  Instead, we are buying ornaments commemorating your short little life.

I've been trying to hide the tears from our family during this visit.  I don't want to get everyone else upset.  But sometimes I can't help but cry at the thought of what should be.  I know your grandparents miss you.  They have so much here that was supposed to be for your visit this month.  You were going to be so spoiled!

The other day I walked downstairs and the song I used to play for you in-utero was on the radio.  It instantly brought tears to my eyes.  Not that that is a difficult feat now a days.  I remember the first time I played it for you.  You kicked me so hard but I took that as a sign that you liked it.  And now I can't hear the song without thinking of you.

We miss you so much. I hope you know just because we can't visit your grave during Christmas we are still loving you and missing you from afar.  So much more that you even realized baby boy.  I love you.

Dear Andrew,

This Christmas holiday was supposed to be so different.  I'm at your grandparents house for Christmas and you are supposed to be here along side me.  We were supposed to go show you off to the relatives with your grandparents and then we were all going to fly back to there house.  I definitely thought I was going to need the help flying you so far!  Instead, we cancelled seeing any family and few straight out to your grandparents.

I don't want to see anyone or talk to anyone.  It doesn't help that they all have babies your age which are definitely too difficult to see at this point.  But being here isn't easy either.  There are little things that show your grandparents were expecting you too.  There's a play mat, and a bouncy swing, and so many little clothes for you.  Everywhere I go and every breath I take is a reminder that you aren't here.  That you aren't where you are supposed to be and it hurts so much.  It just seems to be getting worse rather than better.  I know the holidays aren't helping because it is such a child's holiday and I was looking forward to spending it with you.

It's snowing here and I was so excited to have you in a little teddy bear snowsuit.  I was excited to show you the Christmas lights and to get your first picture with Santa.  Instead, I'm shunning the holidays while the rest of the world celebrates.

I miss you so much baby boy.  I hope wherever you are you are helping us get through this next couple of weeks.

Dear Andrew,

This is our first Christmas without you and I'm leaving you tomorrow for three weeks.  I went and decorated your box today and found myself more emotional at your grave than I have in a long time.  Don't get me wrong, I'm always emotional when it comes to you.  But this was almost back to the all encompassing sadness of the first few weeks that we lost you.  I had so much trouble leaving your little spot and felt so guilty when I finally did.  I know if I had told myself last year that I would feel guilty for leaving a grave that I would have thought I was crazy.  But I do feel guilty.  Guilty for leaving you on the holidays.  Guilty that you aren't here.  Guilty that we have any happiness right now.

I hope you like your little Christmas ornaments and tinsel and snowman.  I know the snowman was lit for you on Sunday but it didn't look like it was working today.  I tried to make your box feel a little festive so you would know we are always thinking about you.  Even though we won't be here at Christmas know that you are always with us no matter where we are.

I love you.

Dear Andrew,

December 9th, 2013

We have the first scan for your little brother or sister today and I am so scared.   The last scan we had was the one where we were told you had no heartbeat.  What if we go in there and they say the same thing again?  Can I handle it?  What will I do if I have to go through this again?  I just don't think I can do that again.

Every night I replay the night we were told you died in my head.  It has never gotten any easier.  Every night I feel like I'm having a panic attack thinking about going onto that ward.  The midwife saying she felt you move but they couldn't find a heartbeat.  I knew something was wrong because they've never had an issue finding the heartbeat.  The only time we did you were kicking the Doppler so I wasn't even worried then.  The last time we had you scanned I knew something was wrong and I'll never forget.  I remember people snoring in the beds around us as they tried to find a heartbeat.  I remember midwives and a doctor running over to where we were waiting.  That is when I definitely knew something was wrong.  But more than anything I remember looking into your father's eyes before they told us you had died and seeing my fear reflected back in your father's eyes. 

That's when I knew you were gone.  Before they told us anything.

When they did tell us I don't think either of us reacted at all.  You hear stories of people screaming and crying.  We just sat there in shock.  I don't think we could believe it had happened when you were so far overdue.  We had gotten through the nine months and the doctor the day before had said there was nothing to worry about at this point.  How I would love to see her again and tell her how wrong she was.  I'd love to scream at her now actually.

So as you can tell the thoughts of going through this again scares me.  I am afraid to walk into that hospital again and go into those same rooms where they confirmed you were gone.

Please stay with us today and watch your little brother or sister.  We need them here and can't take anymore heartache.  It was too much with you and I don't know if I can add another baby to that pain.

I love you.

Dear Andrew,

Yesterday was your six month anniversary.  I hope you enjoyed it since it coincided with the tree lighting at the cemetery. 

It was a hard day for your father and I.  The closer we get to the holidays the more we realize how much we are missing.  Six months we've missed so far!  What do you do at six months?  I feel like you would be a handful at this point.  You were supposed to be in the US meeting your great grandmother and cousins and all of the family this week.  It seems so unfair that they never met you or saw how perfect you were.

I wonder what you would look like at this point.  Babies change so much in the beginning.  I know you wouldn't look like you do now which is so sad.  We should see all of these changes instead of imagining them.  I want you hear so badly.  I want to hear you crying and giggling and creating havoc everywhere you go.

I hope you like your light up snowman.  I thought you needed something for six months and for Christmas to keep you company in the dark.  A lot of the parents seem to have the same idea.  There were a lot of little lights at the graves and it made it look so festive and special.  I hope you enjoy them and the tree that isn't too far from your spot.

We love you and miss you so much little man. 

Dear Andrew,

December 3, 2013

We have six days until we have the ultrasound for your little brother or sister.  I have to say that I am not looking forward to it all.

The last ultrasound we had was when they told us you had no heartbeat.  When you were 41 weeks and had decided to wrap yourself in your cord and die.  Now we have to go through this all over again.

Now the doubt is starting to creep in.  What if there is no heartbeat this time?  Can I handle that disappointment again?  What if there is something wrong?  I have all these worries that I never had with you.  I was always confident that you were there and you were perfect.  And I was right up until the day before you were born.

How are we going to handle this baby?  Are we going to cope ok?  Am I going to worry non-stop?  Is every ultrasound going to put the fear of god into me?

I know I won't be as confident or laid back as I was with you.  I'm going to be a wreck and I'm just hoping that you can help us get through this somehow.  You need to help us get your little brother or sister here safely.  It's the most important thing in the world to us and hopefully to you too.

Love you.

Dear Andrew,

We went to a Christmas remembrance service for you on Sunday.  It was a way for us to spend a little time celebrating you before the holidays.

This is our first Christmas without you and used to be my favorite holiday.  Now I can't even stand the thought of it.  Last year, all I could talk about was how we would have a baby this year for Christmas.  How Santa would be bringing you toys and try not to spoil you too much!  How different life has turned out.  Instead this year we will be donating toys for a child your age at Christmas rather than buying toys for you.  We have decided to make this a yearly tradition that will hopefully honor your memory and do something good for someone around your age.  I hope you realize that I would much rather have you here to love.

The service this year was beautiful and emotional.  I was in tears for most of it and even your father seemed more serious than usual.  I thought I was doing ok but this really brought home the fact that I'm not ok.  It made me realize how much I miss you.  For the past few weeks I've been able to put that on the backburner and maybe push my feelings to the back for awhile.  But this service brought it to the forefront again.  I thought it might and I wanted it to.  I want to be sad and miss you because that is how I feel that I should feel.  At this point, I don't think we really deserve to be happy.  It's too soon since we lost you and I don't know how anyone expects me to be happy or celebrate Christmas this year. 

You should have seen all of the candles at the altar for all the other babies who didn't stay with their moms and dads.  It made me realize that we weren't alone in this and that if there is someplace after life then hopefully you aren't alone.  I can't stand the thought of you being all alone.

I brought your Christmas ornament to the service.  That special ornament that I made just for you and will treasure forever.  Your father was so protective of it.  He thought they wanted to keep it and he wasn't having it!  He was so adamant that I make sure we were getting it back at the end.  It was nice to have your name mentioned and I hope somewhere you knew we were thinking of you and trying to honor your memory.

The days since the service have been difficult.  I miss you and the feelings seem amplified since Sunday.  I think between that, the Christmas tree lighting, and the upcoming holidays there are going to be a lot of tears.  But I want you to know that you are never far from my mind and that I love you so much.  You mean the world to me and I would do anything at all to have you here now.

I miss you and love you baby boy.