a letter

Dear Aidan,

Today is a special day. Today is the day I had been looking forward to since November of last year. Today was your due date.

I know the chances of you actually being born on this date were very low, but this is The Date that I've had in my head all these months. I was actually hoping you would arrive a week late on August 11, as 11 is my favorite number. And how cool is 8-11-11 for a birthday? I slowly convinced myself that 8-4-11 or any other combination was just as good (but I still hoped that you'd hold out at least until August - we have so many July birthdays in our family!).

Sadly you arrived much too early. Well, you died first, then you were born into this world.

That day was hard. It was surreal. I don't know exactly when you died - it could have been Friday afternoon when I couldn't keep water or food down due to that stupid antibiotic, or maybe in the middle of the night when the bleeding started. The doctor confirmed your death Saturday morning (after my insistence for an ultrasound) around 10am. Nine hours later you were here, so tiny and so perfect.

I was glad that you arrived mostly naturally - they only had to give me some medicine to make the contractions stronger and I had an epidural too (on half of my body, at least). I guess I'm glad that I didn't need a "procedure" to get things moving.

When Amanda, the nurse, brought you in to my room after she cleaned you up, I was so nervous. I didn't want to hold you, and neither did your dad, but I deeply regret that now. Maybe I was scared that holding you would make this nightmare real - it would cement your death and I would never wake up from this hellish dream. At one point Amanda moved your blanket and your arm to show us your hand, and I almost freaked out when she touched you. As if it was wrong to touch you, how dare she touch you or move you.  Now I would do anything to go back in time so I could hold you, to feel your skin, to kiss your head.  I wish I knew what you felt like. Now I can only feel you in my dreams.

Sunday marked the first day of our lives without you. I watched Rocky that morning from my hospital bed. I had never seen that movie before. Now it will always be linked with you and your death. Outside the snow was falling pretty heavily. I couldn't see much through my hospital room window but I saw that. All the snow. Frozen tears of the angels. Life continuing on. Leaving the hospital was so hard.. all the sadness of leaving empty handed. A pregnant woman a day earlier, no longer pregnant, no child to hold.

Life since then has been difficult for me. I think about you all of the time and how much I wish you were here.  I feel broken without you. You were a piece of me. Though, you still are a piece of me, just different.  As the poem goes, I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart). 

You are with me always, Aidan, and I hope you are with me too. I don't know what happens after this life, but I hope, in some way, that you know how much you were wanted and how much we love you. 

Love,

Mommy