October 9, 2018
This week you should have been 37 weeks, and ready to make your grand entrance into this world.
You and your brother were due to be induced this week as our doctor felt I wouldn’t manage with you both much longer.
This week is a painful reminder that this isn’t happening and that you are not here.
I’m finding this week particularly hard. I have that ‘wishing I could go back’ feeling again. My tears have returned and my longing to hold you is stronger than ever.
I miss you.
I miss you every day.
I miss your personality.
I miss your face.
You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on. The only way I can describe you when you were nestled in my arms is perfection. You were so dainty – every feature was perfect. Nothing had ever been so beautiful to me.
Please know little guy, I wished and prayed to every god listening in our only moments together that we would be that medical miracle – that once we were reunited again it would take all your pain away and you would somehow pull through. I prayed with every fibre in my body. I willed with all I had that you could do the impossible.
I wanted to be enough for you.
But I know now, after speaking to your lovely nurse, you had lost your incredible spark and those amazing doctors and nurses knew you couldn’t take much more.
She told me how you were a fiery little fella and that she knew you had given up – but not without a courageous fight.
You were so brave little guy. I will forever be so proud to be your mum. You fought so hard to meet us and even though we met fleetingly, it was the most precious moment I’ve ever encountered.
You are the most precious thing I ever encountered.
And even though I can’t show you by kissing your forehead, holding your tiny hand, or cuddling you into me – I love you as much now as I did that moment we met, and I will love you that way forever.
With all my heart.