10/07/2022
[TW: miscarriage] 08.23.2017. 🤍
Dear Baby,
No one sees it from the outside—but you’re the one that made me a mom, though our journey together was only nine weeks long.
I wish I had’ve given you a name, because just calling you “baby” doesn’t feel right—but it also feels too late to choose one now. It’s been five years and I still remember the names we had chosen for you.
You were going to have a Dr. Seuss nursery with truffula trees and a fox in socks where you’d sleep in the bassinet I bought before our time was up.
Sometimes I get to see you in my dreams, but it’s never for long enough. You’re usually a little girl and I always know just who you are.
I get nervous that it’ll forget you or that your memory will fade, but a mom doesn’t forget.
I didn’t know it at the time, but now I know you sent me down a path of finding myself. I often talk about you as my miscarriage, but you’re so much more than that.
So while I used to say that a part of my heart died when yours stopped beating, in reality you helped my heart grow.
You still help me help others heal and for that I am forever thankful.
❤️ Mom