Sorry I haven't written in awhile but as you know I talk to you in my head every day and write letters to you while trying to fall asleep. I just never am able to write them down the following day.
As always, I miss you. Your brother is growing in leaps and bounds. And every little thing new that he does is tinged with sadness because we never did it with you.
He coos and laughs and just rolled over. I was playing with him the other day wondering what your coo would have sounded like. What would your personality have been like?
Your brother has changed so much in 10 weeks. He doesn't even look like the baby he was when he was born. What would you have looked like at 10 weeks? Would we even recognize you? You are forever a newborn in my memory and that can be incredibly sad.
We've been to other baby groups and when asked if Liam is my first I always mention you. It can be incredibly isolating since no one asks what happened to you. It just creates an awkward silence and a lull in conversation. I feel like a bit of an outsider in these groups. The sad one who had something happen that no mother wants to imagine. The person whose baby died. That is now part of me just as you were part of me. Maybe it would be easier to say Liam is my first. I've thought about it and your dad suggested it. But doing that feels like I'm betraying you. It's bad enough you died at 41 weeks. Ignoring the fact you lived would just add to the pain.
I can't forget you. I refuse to deny you. We spend 41 weeks together where I talked to you and read to you and loved you. I felt you move inside me up until the day you died. I gave birth to you and held your lifeless body in my arms. And I love you so much that I would rather mention you and isolate myself than deny you and deal with the internal guilt.
I love you baby boy. Watch out for your brother and keep him safe. You are always in my mind...
