I’m writing you this letter on the day that we were supposed to finally meet on the outside. I know it’s not your due date, but this is when the doctors would have suggested we meet, anyway. I was so scared of this day. I didn’t know if I could bring you safely into the world, and I am so, so sorry that I couldn’t.
Your dad and I love you so, so much. More than we could have ever told you if we’d been lucky enough to spend a lifetime together. More than either of us could have imagined. We only got to spend a few brief months with you, but those few months have changed us both forever, and we would do anything at all if it meant you could be with us right now.
You were so loved, by so many people you never even got to meet. They couldn’t wait to meet you, watch you grow up, help you through life. I’m not sure there was ever a child so eagerly anticipated. You would have had more aunties and uncles than you could remember and more handknit outfits than any baby since the beginning of time. And I can tell you with certainty that your father and I are not the only ones who miss you, and think of you often.
We miss you every single day. Not a day goes by when I don’t think of you, how you were in my belly, and the little girl you would have been. I didn’t know you could miss someone this much. I didn’t know you could miss someone who never got to take a breath at all, but now I do. Every sad song on the radio feels like it’s about you, my amazing, tiny, daughter, who can’t be with me. Your absence feels like a bottomless well of longing in my heart, and that’s not even right, but there aren’t any right words to describe how it feels, missing you. Interminable.
I am also profoundly grateful for you, for the things you brought into our lives even amidst the sadness. Your dad and I were both scared, before we met you, that maybe we couldn’t be the kind of parents you deserved. Your short time here taught us that we can parent in the worst of times, and love each other through the worst of times, and be stronger for having done it. We hope that one day we’ll get to bring your brother or sister home from the hospital, but you will always be the one who made us parents, even though we’ll never have the pleasure of watching you grow into a young woman.
And in a lot of ways, loving you has helped me to stop being so scared of things outside of my control. The worst has happened, and we are okay. Some days less so than others, but we’re okay.
I don’t really believe in a place called heaven and a place called hell, but I’ve always hoped there is a place other than this. And if there is, I hope you’re there, and that you’re happy, and taken care of, and that you know how much I love you, and that I’ll think of you always.