My lost one,
I loved you the moment we met, maybe even before that. There was an anticipation building, one that made me fall so head over heels for you that my love for you radiated from me, giving away my secret to strangers. More than one person stopped me to tell me how I was seemingly projecting happiness.
And I was. Friends I hadn’t seen for months before you existed just felt I was experiencing an incredible journey before I could even tell them.
Your tiny heart-beat was visible only to me the first time we saw it. Jerry couldn’t see it until a week later when the doctor told us she was sure we’d have a healthy baby in 7 more months. That was a false sense of security, as it turns out.
I created a future for you, tiny baby. In my mind, it was beautiful and it was real. I worried about you and your future happiness. Would I be enough to give you all that I wanted for you? How could I possibly give you the world you deserve? How would I be able to make you feel all the love in my heart?
Everyone who knew about you loved you, too; there was an incredible joy in knowing you were real, even if only for a brief time.
I have accepted that you were gifted to me for such a small time to give me hope. I am grateful for that. Hope is something I struggle with; there often isn’t much space between having hope and feeling hopelessness. Your existence showed me that I must have hope again, for I’d lost it.
Thank you, first would-be child, for giving me back that hope. Even though our time together was much shorter than expected, I find solace in knowing that you must have felt an immense amount of love, because there was so much of it directed toward you.
With more love than I ever thought I could feel,
Me.
