Dear Maddie,
We lost you one month ago this morning. We miss you so much and wish with all our hearts that you were here. My arms have ached for you today, and I’ve felt hollow inside in the space where you should be. I still don’t quite know how to go on without you. I remember feeling you kick, seeing your little face on the ultrasound, and hearing your heart beat filling up the exam room. I still think sometimes that I feel you moving around in there. Remember the day I wore a very loose dress? I thought you’d invited friends over! Now, one month later, the stillness inside me is suffocating. I miss you every second of every day.
Have you found your brother wherever you are? I try to have faith that the two of you are safe and happy. Can you see me? I worry sometimes that you feel grief just as I do. Is there a way that you can see me and not feel sad? I really hope you can. The selfish part of me wants to know for certain that you and Andy are together watching me and all of us who still love you so much. The protector in me knows that, if seeing me makes you sad, I’d rather you be completely oblivious. Actually, I’d rather you were here. Both of you. My beautiful children, people tell me I just have to have faith that you are safe. What those people think I can place my faith in is beyond me, though.
My sweet baby, I wish I could feel you still. I wish I had more than just a sense of your presence. I wish so, so much that you were tucked safely inside of me again, waiting for that day when you would make your appearance. We were looking forward to hearing your cries, feeling those warm little fingers, and watching you grow. Now, all we can do is look at the box that holds your ashes and dream about who you could have been. Please be well and happy wherever you are.
All my love,
Mommy
