Dear Andrew,

I have so many emotions with this pregnancy.

Grief at losing you.

Guilt at tying to have another baby so shortly after losing you.

Guilt for this baby.  Guilt that they aren't getting the same excitement that we had with you.

A touch of excitement for this baby but then the guilt comes back because should I be excited while still grieving for you?

Fear that something is going to go wrong again and I'll have to go through all of those horrible raw emotions all over again.

So the three are fear, guilt, and grief.  Which is sad because a new life should mean excitement, hope, and love.  While your father and I love this baby there is such a complexity of emotion that was absent in your pregnancy.  The naïve excitement of this pregnancy just isn't there.

Your father and I were talking about this baby's big ultrasound in a little over a week.  With you we were so excited.  We never really worried that anything would be wrong.  With this baby we can't even say everything will be ok.  And if everything is ok it doesn't mean we will get to keep them in the end.  You were a perfect and easy pregnancy but we still lost you at 41 weeks.  With the pregnancy it is like both of us have built a little barrier to try and protect ourselves.

With you we were guessing your gender and discussing names from six weeks.  We haven't had this discussion once yet and this baby will be twenty weeks on Wednesday.  Does this make us bad parents?  I hope not.  I hope it just makes us cautious parents.  I know when this baby arrives we will love him/her as much as we love you.  If anything were to happen to this baby we would be just as heartbroken as we were with you.  I think that is where the fear comes in.  We are afraid of losing this baby and the little baby conversions we used to have just hold a different significance now.  Even when we do talk about this baby you always come up in conversation.  You are never far from our minds and always impacting our emotions and the way we act.

Hopefully we are told your little brother or sister is healthy in ten days and it will lessen the worrying if only for a moment.  We could use a few moments to be worry free...even if its just a short reprieve.

On our way to the hospital we have to walk through a tunnel that echoes.  Your father always used to make noises in the tunnel on the way to the hospital.  He doesn't do that since we were told that you didn't have a heartbeat.  It's like this grief of losing you and the fear of anything happening to this baby have taken away the little things he used to do to show his excitement.  Maybe one day it will come back or maybe a little part of him died with you.  I know part of me died the day you did. 

We love you and miss you baby boy.

Dear Andrew,

I don't know if it's possible but as the time passes I feel like I miss you more.  I feel like your presence is missed more and more with every day, week, and month that passes.  Maybe I was just so emotionally overwhelmed by what happened that I'm only now processing it fully.

I just want to know why we didn't get to keep you.  Why did we go through 41 weeks and lose you the day before you were born?  I just can't get my head around what we did to deserve this.  I loved having you but the pain is unbearable sometimes.   We should have an eight and a half month old baby crawling around the house.  Instead we have all the pictures we will ever have of you and an empty nursery that has never been used.

I miss you so much and love you and am so sad without you.

Dear Andrew,

Happy Valentine's day.  Your dad gave me a lovely card today that included both you and your little brother or sister.  It was nice to see you included in these holidays.  I miss you so much.  We're going to come visit you tomorrow and make sure all this weather hasn't messed up your box too much.

Last Saturday was 8 months since your birth/death.  It hasn't gotten easier and some days are so hard.  I find myself being so emotional about your loss.  I don't know if its the hormones from your brother/sister but I am way more emotional than I was a few months ago.  Being back at work and thinking about what we should be doing is so hard and most days I don't want to accept that it has happened to me.  Most days I'd love to stay wrapped up in our house.  In this cocoon where I feel safe.  Where I don't have to worry about running into people.  Where I don't have to worry about what I'm going to say to people or how they are going to react.  But I guess that wouldn't be living.  And we've learned in the past eight months that life doesn't stop just because you died even though we would like it too.

We love you and miss you everyday.

Dear Andrew,

I am so angry.

Angry that you aren't here and that we will miss out on seeing you grow up.

Angry that I have your picture on my desk and no one has said a thing.  Everyone looks at it but no one says a word.

Angry that people won't acknowledge you.

Angry that a company I have worked for for ten years didn't even acknowledge your death.

Angry that people seem to think your little brother or sister is a reason to completely forget about you.

Angry that your little brother or sister isn't yet surrounded by the same excitement that we had with you (but hopeful that will change with time).

Angry that very few people understand what your father and I have gone through.  I wish I could show them a video of those first few weeks when we lost you.  I want people to understand that we are still grieving!

Angry that your grandmothers feel the need to comment on every part of this pregnancy.  One won't stop talking about C-sections and the other is talking about having someone stay with your little brother or sister a few weeks after birth.  I will have this baby the best way the consultant sees fit.  And I will not be giving this baby to anyone for a long time!  Your father and I just want your little bro/sis so badly after losing you that I can't imagine not having him/her with us at all times.

I think I'm just angry all the time.

I can't get my head around the fact that we lost you.  I can't accept that the day before you died you were fine and the next day you were gone.  How does that happen?  How do you have a healthy baby for 41 weeks and then on 41+1 they are dead?  How do you get over giving birth to a baby who was dead?  How do you get over the fact that you carried a dead baby?

All these questions that I will never really get answers to.  Eventually I will learn to live with it but I will always miss you and always love you and a part of me will never accept that you are gone.

Dear Andrew,

Returning to work has been tough as I'm sure you know.  So few people mention you.  People act like  I was away on holidays for the past seven months and not mourning your loss.  I don't need people to mention you all the time but it's awkward to return from maternity leave and have a group of fourteen people where only three have mentioned anything about you.

There have been lots of sneaky bathroom tears and it's only been three weeks.  A girl on maternity leave at the same time as me brought her baby in for everyone to see.  I didn't get a warning and happened upon her in work.  That sent me for a loop. I can usually handle these things but I think I need more warning to psych myself up.  I wasn't ready and it definitely sent me to the bathroom in tears for a little while.

My boss also had a baby six weeks ago and sits across from me at work.  Everyday someone comes up to talk to him about babies and congratulate him.  It's lovely for him and I don't want to take away from his happiness but these are the same people who haven't acknowledged your loss.  It makes me feel like such an outcast that people can't even acknowledge you but they will acknowledge all these other babies.  You existed!  I gave birth to all nine pounds of you!!  Why can't people take that into consideration when completely ignoring the fact that I am still mourning you?  How can they be so callous as to ignore your very existence in my life?

It's tough.  As tough as I thought it would be but I'm managing.  I just miss you and crave acknowledgment of you from people outside of friends and immediate family.

I love you and miss you baby boy.