Dear Baby Boy,
Two weeks ago, your mom and I went to the emergency room. She had been feeling not quite right for some time, but now that seemed to reach a point that she needed to get checked quickly. Turns out, you had been with us for 22 weeks, and we didn’t even know it.
Years ago, your mom and I tried darn near everything to grow our family, but never had any luck, and believed we just weren’t meant to have a little baby of our own. Over time, we moved on, accepting that our family would just be the two of us and our fur babies. So when the ER doctor came in and said a pregnancy test came back positive, I was waiting for her to further explain what it was that caused such a result, still not thinking it possible there was a baby in there. But then they brought in the ultrasound machine, and there you were.
Still totally dumbfounded (yet excited!), we headed for home, and shared the news of your existence with your grandparents. They were so very excited! We went to bed that night not knowing how we could love someone so much, when we didn’t even know you existed twenty-four hours prior. Nor were we prepared for what was coming in the next twenty-four.
The next morning came, and I was awoken by your grandma, telling me we needed to get you and your mom to the ER, something seemed wrong. An ambulance brought you to the hospital, where we learned you were coming out early. Sadly, too early. Your mom and I spent the day waiting in a hotel room, eagerly waiting to meet you, our beautiful baby boy, but saddened that our time would be so short. I’m still not sure I totally understand everything I felt that day.
I hope you’ll forgive me for what sounds like a new-parent cliche, but I didn’t realize how quickly and immensely I loved you. Even now, I don’t know how I’ve grown to miss you so greatly, when I didn’t even think it possible for you to exist two weeks ago, but I do. I miss you so much. I love you so much.
Just after 5pm, on October 30th, 2020, we finally got to meet you. You were, you ARE, our perfect little baby boy. And you were so very tiny. For three hours, you laid on your mom’s chest, snuggled up and perfect. We enjoyed the one meal we had as a family. Your mom had some tater tots, and the smallest carrot cake cupcake that ever existed. My quesadilla was mediocre, but it still may be my favorite meal, as I won’t get another with you.
There are so many things I want to share with you. And I’m so very sad that it won’t be possible. But I’m also extremely grateful for the evening we had as a family. I hope you realize how loved you are, by people that never had the pleasure to meet you, and especially your mother and I. Aside from when we were eating our meal, I don’t know that there was a total of two minutes I didn’t spend just watching you lie there with your mom. Occasionally you’d hiccup, and your tiny little hand would twitch.
For one-hundred and seventy-three minutes, we let you just lie there, not wanting to jostle you by holding you elsewhere. Every so often a nurse would come in to check on you, you’d impress even them by how long you stuck around to be with us.
But, inevitably, your time with us expired. We knew it was going to be that way, but we were not prepared. How could we be? Your mother and I love you so very, very much. I hope you knew that as you rested there. I hope you know that now, wherever you are. We’re doing all we can to honor you here. Not a day will go by that I won’t wonder what awesome things you’d have accomplished, if only given the chance. I’ll be doing all I can to ensure you’d have been proud to be my son.
You are the best one, I love you so much. I miss you