A letter to my stillborn daughter

Dear Holly,

     It's Valentine's Day - your due date.  I knew this day would come, but I still feel completely unprepared for it.  You should be here by now.  I should be cradling you in my arms, nursing you, burping you, watching you sleep, and getting very little sleep myself.  Terrified, exhausted and completely in love all over again.

     I don't know what to say, except that I'm so sad that you're not here.  I miss you.  I miss what should have been.  I miss what was.  I will always miss you.  I don't know if I will ever be the same again, without you.

     I've relived your death and birth and the events leading up to it over and over and over again in my mind.  I've tried to change things.  I've tried to bring you back.  Even in my thoughts, I can't.  I'm so sorry, my sweet baby girl.  You were such a fighter.  They told me I should've miscarried you - that babies in your situation are almost always miscarried by 16 weeks.  But not you.  You were strong.  You hung on through so much.  I'm so sorry you had to fight for so long, only to have me give up on you in the end.  I wish I would've fought harder for you.  I hope you can forgive me.

     Your big brother painted a picture for you yesterday.  He's so sweet....he still calls you his baby sister and says "night night" to you most nights, when he's not in a particularly ornery mood.  He has a small picture of your hands, and has folded it and creased it so much from holding onto it so tightly.  It's "Ever's picture," as he calls it.  I'm not sure if he knows what love is, but I know he loves you very much, in his own two year old way.

     Oh, Holly, I don't know what happens after this life, but I do know that if heaven is in fact a physical place, there must be a very special place inside of it reserved for angels like you.  I don't know whether I'll ever get to see you again, but I have thoughts of holding your hand someday - looking down at our matching bracelets and smiling as if none of this ever mattered.  I've tried to dream about you...about meeting you...about who you are and who you were and who you would've been.  But, as is almost always the case with things like this, you are the only person that doesn't inhabit my dreams.  I know it will happen someday...

     I know how silly it is, but with your due date passing, I feel like I am again saying goodbye to you in a whole new way.  I feel like this goodbye is more final somehow.  Like I'm leaving you behind....leaving my would-have-been pregnant self behind and moving on to a different part of my life.  I guess it has to happen, but it's so hard to let go.

     To add salt to the wound, it just so happens that I know of a few other women who are giving birth within a week of when you should've been born.  I'm not bitter towards them...I really am happy for them, but it does make me feel like I've failed you even more.  It's really hard to explain.  It just makes me feel that this is all some big lesson, except I have no idea what I'm supposed to learn from any of it.  I just don't understand what others did right that I did so wrong.  Am I being punished?  Would I not have been a good enough mother to you?   Am I not a good enough mother to Ever?  There are so many questions that I will never have the answers to.

     I hope and pray that, wherever...whenever...you are, that you are okay.  No baby should ever have to struggle the way that you did.  I could see it on your face when you were born.  I feel so bad for having to put you through that.  You deserve rest now....you deserve only the best that God has to offer.  I can only hope I'm worthy of the same so that I can see you again someday.  Wherever you are, know that you have a mommy here on Earth who loves and misses you so very much.

You will always be my perfect little Valentine.

All of my love,
Mommy

Tori Amos - 1,000 Oceans

"These tears I cry
I've cried 1,000 oceans
and if it seems I'm floating in the darkness, well,


I can't believe that I would keep
keep you from flying
and I would cry 1,000 more
if that's what it takes
to sail you home


I'm aware what the rules are
but you know that I will run
you know that I will follow you
over silbury hill
through the solar fields
you know that I will follow you


And if I find you
will you still remember
playing at the trains
or does this little blue ball
just fade away?

Oh, I can't believe

that I would keep

keep you from flying

so I would cry 1,000 more

if that's what it takes to Sail you home"