Dear Little One I Never Met,
It is hard to talk about you. A lump wells up in my throat and my eyes swell with hot tears. I was so excited to learn that you were growing in my tummy. I loved you the moment I saw those two pink lines, and I was so excited to meet you. The day that your heart stopped beating is forever etched in my memory – the crisp Minnesota air, the excitement of Christmas, the sheer despair.
Some people think that because you never breathed air I should not grieve the loss of knowing you. They say you were just a glob of tissue, that I could have other babies. I was numb then, but now I can speak up. Your were just as much as any of us were at that point in our lives. And knowing you were a tiny human created by God, knit together in His glorious image, I was right to want you intensely, to grieve my loss of knowing you intensely.
I miss you everyday darling. We will know each other someday.
*In memorial of all the children that left this earth and their families before taking their first breath of oxygen or shortly thereafter.