A Mother's Day Letter to the Baby I Lost

Dear Darling Baby,

Not a day goes by — not an hour goes by, really — that I don't think about you. Many of these moments are sad, because I wish so desperately that you were here. But some moments are happy, because I got to know you; I got to feel you. You were here, and you were mine. Special occasions, like holidays and birthdays, are hard. They're so much emptier and less joyful because I can't hold you in my arms. And now, I face my first Mother's Day since I lost you.

On the day, I know something will be missing no matter how much my family tries to make it nice for me. But even as I ache to have you with us, I know, of course, that you are. Just like you are every day, when I see you in the small and big things all around me — a rainbow cast upon the counter from light coming through the glass; a cloud in the shape of an angel; a song that reminds me of you. If something goes right when it could have gone so wrong, I know it's you watching over me.

I'm confident that on Mother's Day, I'll feel your presence stronger than ever. Because I am still your mother, even if we can't do things together the way I envisioned. Losing you took almost everything from me, but it can't take away our sacred relationship. I am your mom, and you are my baby. Today, and every day.

On Mother's Day, I'll celebrate being a mom to your sisters, your soon-to-be baby brother, AND you. Please know that you are as much a part of everything we do today as any other member of this family. I know I speak for all of us when I say we feel blessed that we can count you among us. We love you. Oh, how we love you.

One other thing: Can you whisper in your sisters' ears to let mommy sleep in on Mother's Day? Thanks, my sweet angel.

With a love I didn't know I could feel until I carried you inside me, always and forever,
Your Proud Mom