Dear Andrew,
Tomorrow is the first anniversary of your due date. To some this shouldn't be a big deal. It wasn't the day you were born after all.
But to me this is the day you should have been born. If you had arrived that day you would be here with us. We'd have a one year old! I can't imagine how different our lives would be if you had been born on May 31st.
On May 31st last year you were still moving around inside of me. You were still making me feel gigantic and giving me those reassuring kicks. You were alive.
I know I can't change anything now but it won't make tomorrow any easier. Should have, could have, would have is not going to change the outcome of your story. It's not going to change the ending of your life. But it still makes me sad to think what a difference 8 days could have made in all of our lives.
We love you and miss you baby boy.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Friday, May 16, 2014
Dear Andrew,
365 days ago I started my first day of maternity leave. This was the real start of the countdown to your arrival. You were due the 31st of May and I had a strong feeling you were going to be late. But 365 days ago I was still naïve. 365 days ago you were still alive. You were moving inside me and assuring me that you were safe. We were preparing for a life with you that in reality was nothing like we imagined. We never thought we'd lose you. I figured at that stage I would worry about how to take care of you after you were born rather than worry about the details in-between. Little did I know, I wouldn't need to worry about any of that.
I'm jealous of the me from 365 days ago. The happy, content, naïve me. The one who didn't know anything could still go wrong. The one who was so assured of your safe arrival The one who was so relaxed and excited about you finally arriving into the world. The me of 365 days ago who is no longer here.
Now, one year later I'm 32 weeks pregnant with your little brother. I'm anxious. I'm nervous. I'm a wreck. The blinders are off. I know of too many things that can go wrong and I just can't breathe comfortably until your little brother is safely here.
We have so much to get through before that day though. We have your due date in two weeks and then eight days later we have your anniversary. We have your brother's growth scan. We have to balance grieving your loss while celebrating your little brother's life.
It's a hard road and we miss you everyday. I always imagine what you would look like now and think back to the few things I have from when you were alive. Would you have all that curly auburn hair you were born with? What would your eyes look like when they are opened? Would you be crawling? Would you be walking? How different would life look if you had been alive and survived?
365 days ago you were here with us.
It's amazing how much can change in a second.
We love you.
365 days ago I started my first day of maternity leave. This was the real start of the countdown to your arrival. You were due the 31st of May and I had a strong feeling you were going to be late. But 365 days ago I was still naïve. 365 days ago you were still alive. You were moving inside me and assuring me that you were safe. We were preparing for a life with you that in reality was nothing like we imagined. We never thought we'd lose you. I figured at that stage I would worry about how to take care of you after you were born rather than worry about the details in-between. Little did I know, I wouldn't need to worry about any of that.
I'm jealous of the me from 365 days ago. The happy, content, naïve me. The one who didn't know anything could still go wrong. The one who was so assured of your safe arrival The one who was so relaxed and excited about you finally arriving into the world. The me of 365 days ago who is no longer here.
Now, one year later I'm 32 weeks pregnant with your little brother. I'm anxious. I'm nervous. I'm a wreck. The blinders are off. I know of too many things that can go wrong and I just can't breathe comfortably until your little brother is safely here.
We have so much to get through before that day though. We have your due date in two weeks and then eight days later we have your anniversary. We have your brother's growth scan. We have to balance grieving your loss while celebrating your little brother's life.
It's a hard road and we miss you everyday. I always imagine what you would look like now and think back to the few things I have from when you were alive. Would you have all that curly auburn hair you were born with? What would your eyes look like when they are opened? Would you be crawling? Would you be walking? How different would life look if you had been alive and survived?
365 days ago you were here with us.
It's amazing how much can change in a second.
We love you.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Dear Andrew,
Some days I just don't have the strength to put my pain into words.
Some days are so hard that just getting through them in emotionally exhausting. It takes all of my energy just to pretend to the world that I can function in it without you.
Some days all I do is think of you.
Tomorrow will be 11 months since we lost you. As we get closer to your brother's due date and your anniversary I am starting to relive our experience with you. I dream about losing your brother all the time. I relive losing you. The pain, the shock, and the numbness. I relive the labor and the quiet birth where you never took your first breath and never cried for us. I relive that pain and sadness and overwhelming grief.
Some days I still can't believe you were here and then you weren't. I still can't believe that this happened to us.
Some days a wave of realization hits me that this really did happen. You really did die hours before you were born and 8 days past your due date. And every time that realization hits me I am just as shocked as the first time we were told your heart was no longer beating.
I don't know how we've made it through the last 11 months. It's been hard. It's been emotional and there have been more tears than I could ever count.
Everyday I miss you and everyday I wonder why we had to lose you. I don't think your loss is something I will ever accept. I miss you too much and it hurts.
I love you.
Some days I just don't have the strength to put my pain into words.
Some days are so hard that just getting through them in emotionally exhausting. It takes all of my energy just to pretend to the world that I can function in it without you.
Some days all I do is think of you.
Tomorrow will be 11 months since we lost you. As we get closer to your brother's due date and your anniversary I am starting to relive our experience with you. I dream about losing your brother all the time. I relive losing you. The pain, the shock, and the numbness. I relive the labor and the quiet birth where you never took your first breath and never cried for us. I relive that pain and sadness and overwhelming grief.
Some days I still can't believe you were here and then you weren't. I still can't believe that this happened to us.
Some days a wave of realization hits me that this really did happen. You really did die hours before you were born and 8 days past your due date. And every time that realization hits me I am just as shocked as the first time we were told your heart was no longer beating.
I don't know how we've made it through the last 11 months. It's been hard. It's been emotional and there have been more tears than I could ever count.
Everyday I miss you and everyday I wonder why we had to lose you. I don't think your loss is something I will ever accept. I miss you too much and it hurts.
I love you.
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