How are things in heaven? I ask because I have no clue. Honestly, you were going to be my piece of heaven. I couldn't wait to hold you and kiss your face. I thought, How cool will it be to have someone who looks like me, someone who instinctively loves and trusts me? That's the worse part about this whole experience; I woke up this morning expecting to feel your flurried kicks inside me, and I still dream of your birth, even though it's not possible. I still think about designing your room, shopping for diapers, and planning for our future.
Your daddy wonders if I'm O.K., and I want to say, "Forget about me. My baby is the one who's not O.K., the one who's not here." I knew I was all right as soon as the labor ended. My belly is swollen and empty, but I'm O.K... I'm O.K, but my baby's heart doesn't beat.
I just cannot think of a reason why this has happened, but maybe I did something wrong. Maybe I ran too much. Maybe I took some destructive vitamins. Maybe, maybe, having children is not for me.
You have a brother in heaven. Did you know that? Maybe you've already met him. God will look after you both. I wish I could see your smiling faces, and then I could easily bear this. We still have to plan the funeral and give you a name. Yet how can I do that when the doctor is still running tests on your body? The nurse didn't even tell your daddy if you were a boy or girl.
Yet I will love you no matter what gender you are. I will always think of you when I look out the window and see the clouds roving across the clear, blue sky. I will think of you when I see my hands empty and wrinkled with age. I will think of you when the snow settles softly on the ground, and nothing but a white blaze remains. Please, please be happy in heaven, for without you, life on Earth is hell.