A Letter to Baby #3

We had you for a short six weeks, and knew about you for only two.

And then you left, far too early.

We weren’t planning on having you. So when we found out we were pregnant, all of the emotions and scares came flooding through. We needed a bigger car. We needed a bigger house. I was going to give birth to you in the middle of finishing school. But quickly all of those worries left, and joy and excitement filled our home. We knew you were a blessing from our good, good Father.

And then, as soon as those graceful moments came, you were gone.

I never got to hear your heartbeat or feel your little kicks. I never got to see your little face or hands or feet in my stomach. But I knew you were there.

We never picked a name. I went through every name that started with a vowel, because I didn’t want you to be left out from your brother and sister. Arie was at the top of my list, because it was unisex and it meant “Lion if God.” I feel like that fits you well.

We never knew if you were a boy or a girl. At first my gut told me you were a girl, maybe because I still don’t know how to handle boys. But now, whenever I try to picture you, all I can picture is a sweet baby boy being held in the arms of Jesus. I thank God for giving me that little glimpse, knowing you’re in the best arms you could ever be in, though, selfishly, I wanted you in mine.

You never got to meet your brother and sister. I know they would have loved you. Oliver would have made sure that you were always included and that you were happy. Iris would have been the perfect mother hen. She would have been all up in your face, wanting to feed you and change you herself. She probably would have wanted to hold you every second of every day, and she probably would have dropped you a couple times while doing so. I promise to tell them about you someday.

Your daddy loved you the minute we found out about you. As I was a nervous wreck, he was ready to do anything he could to give you the best life. Look over him, as he is going through his own emotions and loss.

There has been so much emotional and mental pain, but nobody talks about the physical pain. The aches, cramps, pain that runs through your whole body, as you slowly wait for it all to be over, but also not wanting it to be over because that means it’s actually true. That you are completely gone. Maybe that’s why nobody talks about it, because it’s too hard to even comprehend.

I don’t know why you had to leave. I think that’s something I will wonder everyday. That’s really all I can do- wonder. Wonder what color hair you would have had. If you had your dads big head or your moms big lip. If you would have been strong willed like your siblings. That’s going to be the hardest part about it all. Not knowing.

One thing I do know, is that I will see you again someday, in the best place to be. I know that our good, good God has his hands on you, just as he’s surrounding us with his love and grace during this time.

Yes, our God is still good.

We will love you forever, our precious angel baby.

– love, mama

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