My Dear sweet Turner,
It has been 23 weeks since our last perfect day together. Each day that has passed feels like a million years. It feels like a million more that I have to endure until I see your sweet face again. It has been 2 weeks since I last wrote to you. I know you know my reasons for not being able to put into words the depth of my pain and brokenness last week. Time has made my days more manageable, but I feel like my heart breaks more with each passing day. Realizing that it has been so long since I last held you. 160 days since we were told the devastating news that you had passed away.
Ive had so many experiences the last two weeks that have comforted me. Yet at the same time, I have had many that have broken me even more. I had no idea I could feel even more broken than I already feel. Passing the 5 month mark since you passed away proved to be difficult. I am so angry. So very angry that you are not here. I try not to let my anger show as I have never been an angry person, but it is hard to hide my bitterness.
Every single day I have seen a pregnant woman or I’ve seen a baby that is your age or younger and I am constantly asking myself why? Why did this have to be you? Why did I have to lose my baby? Why does this have to be the road I have to travel? I don’t wish this pain on anyone but the unfairness of life seems to swallow me whole when I see other babies who are here and just fine. See them in their mothers arms. See them smiling and giggling and starting to play with toys. Starting to notice the world around them. All of it makes me angry and it also makes me wonder what you’d look like doing those same things. It hurts seeing these babies interact with their siblings and seeing these siblings show their friends their baby brother or sister. I just feel so robbed each and everyday of the life we were to have.
The kids tarting back at school also set off a new emotions realizing I’ll never be able to take you to your first day of school. I’ll never meet your first teacher in kindergarten or see how your excelling with reading and math. I’ll never be able to take a first day of school picture or take you back to school shopping. I’ll never have to buy your school supplies and complain about how much they all cost. I’ll never have a school picture of you or hear about all your new friends you’ve met. None of it. And you won’t ever get those opportunities either. It makes me so mad and sad.
Last week Monday, the 21st, there was a once in a lifetime event that happened here. It was a solar eclipse and it was simply stunning. The kids and I went out to your grave and watched the eclipse there. We met some friends, the W family, out there and your Grandma Crocker was there as well. I loved that I was able to still see this event with you nearby. When the eclipse happened it felt as if I had a glimpse of the majesty of heaven and glorious place where you reside. Looking at the beauty of the earth and all the wonderful and marvelous things in nature is where I often feel you near. And last Monday you were very nearby.
These past two weeks I’ve met another handful of other mothers that have had fullterm baby’s who passed away before birth. Their babys have passed away since you have been gone. They’ve had to say goodbye when they thought they would get to say hello and raise their baby. They are living their lives without the precious baby they carried for months. Each and every time I connect with other women who are left to live without one of their babys my heart just breaks all over again. At the same time I am so thankful we have each other to lean on for support. To know I am not alone in living my life without you. I know I can just vent my frustrations without fear of judgement or advice and they completely understand this pain. It’s heartbreaking they know this pain and yet comforting that they just “get it”. No explanations are ever needed with them.
I’ve also encountered a couple different situations with people where I have had to validate that you were indeed a child. That I lost a child and not an “idea” of a child. That just because you passed away before you took your first breathe outside of my body doesn’t mean you didn’t live. There is nothing magical about being born. All babies who have ever been born were human before their birth. Exiting their mothers body didn’t all of a sudden make them real. You were no different. You were and are still very much a baby just like every baby that has ever been carried for an entire pregnancy and born. It angers me to no end that I have to even have to say that or try to explain to other people these facts. It is baffling to me.
I have learned to just cut people out of my life who don’t understand that I lost a child. I lost my newborn baby. I didn’t lose a pregnancy or an idea of a child. I lost my son. I lost you. I lost the baby boy I took care of for 9 months 24 hours a day 7 days a week. I lost the baby boy I gave birth to. And I lost everything that I was suppose to be and have because of you. You were born so silently into the world, but you were still born and that is what matters.
I miss you son. My heart and arms long to hold you. Nothing and no amount of time will ever change that. You are forever my son. My baby boy and I will live you all the days of my life.
Love Always and Forever,