To the Baby I Never Got to Meet
Maybe you were just a line on a Dollar Store test. Maybe you were a special secret only I carried, just like I was the only one every to hold you. But you were mine. Ever so briefly. Not for long enough.
I know in my heart of hearts you were perfect. Even if your developmental differences were what kept you from my arms to begin with. I, with some time and perspective, am so glad you didn’t suffer the pain those differences would have brought you just so I could hold you.
If only I wouldn’t have gone on that run/eaten that food/drank that drink. If only I would have been better maybe I would have gotten to keep you. The nonsensical guilt and blame come in waves just like the grief. The ultimate mom guilt playing a nasty game of tug of war with my heart strings. Even though my rational side knows better.
If only I could talk about you instead of keep you secret. If only I could stop those well meaning strangers with their “helpful” words cut like daggers: “At least you’re young” ” “At least you weren’t far along” “At least you can get pregnant”. Maybe they are right in some ways, but no. You are not ever a “least”, but a MOST my darling.
There are days you are not on my mind as much, and that does not mean I don’t love you or that you don’t matter. It means that you are such a part of my heart that God has granted me the grace to live with the grief of your loss.
I hold on firmly to your sweet siblings as I imperfectly parent them. I would have made just as many mistakes with you, sweet baby. I trust that you are waiting for me in a place where I can hold you one day. Where the whole in my heart left by the absence of you will be filled many times over.