Once more

My Dear Daughter,

Here we are coming up on the second anniversary of your birth and death. It's still very painful for your daddy and me. Two years ago today, I went into the ER in Greeley, a little bit worried because of spotting, but never dreaming that it could mean your death. I remember the worried looks from the nurses and doctors. I remember the cold helicopter ride to Denver. And I remember the pain of everything that happened the next day there. In a couple of years, we will have to explain to your little brother why October 28 is such a special day. I remember so many things about that day clearly. I remember talking to your Grandma Donna on the phone. I remember the sheer exhaustion from being up all night. I remember the pain and the mental numbness of that night. I remember the sense of dread, knowing that I wouldn't get to take my baby home with me. I remember holding you for the first time and how very tiny you were. I remember marveling over how perfectly formed you were. I remember your body heaving in my hands as though you were trying to breathe, but the doctors said your heart had stopped before you were born. I remember dressing you in the little clothes they gave us and wrapping you in the blanket someone had made for you. What a blessing to us was the care that someone took to make clothes and blankets for an angel they would never meet. I remember crying with your daddy. I remember talking to your Aunt Miranda on the phone and the heartbreak in her voice when I told her you wouldn't make it. I remember feeling like I had to comfort her because she sounded so much sadder than I did, but the finality of your death hadn't hit yet. And I remember talking to your Aunt Beth, though I don't remember what she had to say.

I think your daddy and I are learning to live around our grief pretty well. Fewer things make us sad and we can rejoice in the miracle of your short life now. However, we miss you deeply and your absence causes us both a deep pain. As long as we live, you will never be forgotten.

Love always,

Mommy

Turning 2

Dear Donna Rose,

It's less than a week until we reach the date when you will have been gone 2 years. You've been gone so much longer than you were here. I get a little bit sadder each day as the anniversary of your stillbirth approaches. I miss you so very much. You were so small and helpless.

Dear Donna Rose

My dear daughter,

Mommy and Daddy are missing you something fierce today. Yesterday a song on the CD for the July 4th parade float your daddy rode made him cry. He came home all sad and played it for me and we both just sobbed until your little brother started crying because we weren't paying attention to him. It's such a relief when he cries because we know that he's breathing then. A lot of people have been asking me if your brother is my first baby. I always tell them about you. I love your brother very much, but that doesn't keep me from missing you. Yesterday Daddy's boss took his little girl by the hand to walk her to the back yard and it made me very sad thinking that your daddy should be taking you by the hand to walk you to where you can play with your friends. Tomorrow we are driving up to Aberdeen to visit with your grandma and grandpa. It will be a fun family reunion, but it would be even more enjoyable if you were there. The stair-step age grandkids has a hole in it because you aren't here to fill it. Your cousins are one year apart in age until your cousin Ric. Then there's a gap where you should have been born and an extra year before your cousin Caspian and your brother. We will probably go out to Storybook Land and the lake or the water park. Your brother can't enjoy them yet, but you are old enough so that if you were here you could definitely enjoy them. I imagine that you have even more entertaining and important things to do in heaven. I just wish we could share the special times together.

I love you, Donna Rose.

Love,
Mommy

Dear Donna Rose

My dear daughter,

Daddy told you that your new brother has arrived and he is here safely. I wonder what you would think of him if you were here now. I wonder if you would be jealous as my brother was jealous of me. You would still be little more than a baby yourself, but I think you would be very excited to be a big sister. I am certain you would adore little Tony and would try to be Mommy's helper. I miss you every day. I know Daddy does too. Sometimes we find each other crying because we miss you so much. You are a hero, my little girl. You saved your brother's life. Because of you, we knew what to do to get your brother here safely and we know what to do for any future siblings. The doctors have diagnosed me with an incompetent cervix, which means I will always need help to carry babies to full term. We would never have known if not for you, my dear. I wish we had known before you were born because then we could have you both here with us. I love you, honey, and am so grateful for your brief life.

Mommy

You Made Death Beautiful

I saw an evil looking hag,
Cackling over what she brewed.
Poison, I felt so sure, she made.
Evil was in all she strewed
But when you crossed the dark threshold
You softened my harshest view
The crone looked more like dear grandma
Lovely and inviting too.
The once dark doorway now holds light
A candle flame burning bright

I saw a reaper, dark and grim
Striding down the avenue
Spreading dark shadows in his wake
Fear and panic were his crew
But when you took him by the hand
You softened my harshest view
For he appeared a wizened man
With love, care, and hope to strew 
The once dark doorway now holds light
A candle flame burning bright

I saw Death to be the ending
Of the life I thought I knew
A precipice, a deep ravine
Terrifying to go through
But when you set out on that path
You softened my harshest view
For Death became the door that lead
To a reunion with you
The once dark doorway now holds light
A candle flame burning bright

To my little angel

Dear Donna Rose,
    Your little brother is here with us now, and you aren't. It's not your fault you aren't, there's no blame to place. But we miss you. Every time I hear Arthur Anthony cry I hear you in there. I know I never heard a cry from your lungs, but I hear it in him. You're here with us, not in body but in spirit. Your brother will know of you even if he won't know you until we all meet after this life. I just wanted you to know we have not replaced you. We never could, nor would we want to. We love you and always will. But, we also love your brother, and will do so to honor your memory.
                                                                Love,
                                                                 Dad.

A letter to my daughter

Dear Donna Rose,

Right now, I am sitting in a hospital room waiting for your little brother to decide when he wants to come. This hospital room is only a little like the room they put me in when you were born. It's a much smaller room, but that's not a bad thing. The only people in here most of the time are the nurses and me. Sometimes the doctor comes by to have a chat and your daddy comes to visit when he isn't working. In your hospital room, There were at least three doctors and two nurses all the time. I was attached to monitors all the time and stuck in bed. Here, they attach monitors every 8 hours and check your brother's heart beat every 4 hours or so. I can't help but compare the differences between then and now. We were so sad in that room. In here, I have some roses your daddy gave me and one of our Donna Bears so that you will always be a part of your brother's life. Tomorrow is Mother's Day. I remember how hard last year's Mother's Day was. In church, they asked all mothers to stand up and I didn't know if that included me or not. I certainly didn't feel like a very GOOD mother. The ladies in church made me stand up too and I cried. Your daddy and I think about you all the time. We miss you so very much and wish you were here with us getting ready for your little brother to come.

Love,

Mommy

Dear Donna Rose

My dear daughter,

Today should have been your first birthday.  I should be baking you a cake, buying balloons and ice cream, and wrapping presents. We should have spent the day playing together, just celebrating getting through one year of your life. I miss you so much, my dear. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you.

Love,

Mommy

Dear Donna Rose

My dear daughter,

It seems that mommy will have more time to write to you these days.  The doctor decided that we need to be cautious with your little brother and has put me on bed rest for the next three months. I'm hoping this works out and that your little brother grows to full term before he is born.  Reading my baby books makes me think of you.  I never got to this point in pregnancy with you, but my books are now talking about labor and delivery.  It reminds me of the day we lost you.  I remember the painful contractions and how they hurt more and more the further I got along.  I remember allowing them to give me stronger and stronger medications to ease the pain because I was hurting so much emotionally that I couldn't handle more pain on top of it.  I remember finally falling asleep after they gave me the epidural and then waking up when the pain got to be too much for the epidural to ease.  I remember the sensation of my water breaking and how short a time it took for you to be born after that.  I remember holding your precious little body for the first time.  You were already gone, but we needed to touch you and to see you. I remember the pain in your daddy's face. I remember dressing you in the clothing they gave us for you. I remember marveling over the perfection of your tiny body.  I remember how your arms and legs seemed so long, just like your daddy. I remember your tiny, perfect fingers with their finger nails.  I remember the kind nurse who took pictures of you for us. I remember being moved to a recovery room and your daddy going to get tamales and ice cream.  The owner of the tamale place prayed for us with your daddy. I remember holding your cold body one last time before we left the hospital.  It was so hard to know I could never hold you again. I'd held you for 5 months inside me, and now I'd never get to hold you any more. I listened to your memorial service again this week. Your daddy found the CD as we were packing up stuff to move yet again. I scrambled last minute to find scripture and songs for the service.  The church played every song I suggested and read every scripture I had picked. I love you so much, Donna Rose.  I will always remember.

Love,

Mommy

News for my angel

Dear Donna Rose,

I just wanted to let you know that you have a little brother.  He's quickly approaching the age you were when we lost you. His ultrasounds look very different from our ultrasounds of you. You looked a lot like your daddy. I think your little brother probably looks more like me. He has very chubby cheeks. I wonder if you would be excited now if you were here with us. I know you would have been a wonderful big sister. I miss you more than I can say.

Love,

Mommy

Dear Donna Rose

My dearest Donna Rose,

Oh how I miss you. It hardly seems possible that it has been more than a year since I carried you inside me. Now, with your little brother or sister living there, I am reminded of what it was like to have you inside me, to feel you move.

I picked up my copy of "Oh Baby, the places you'll go!" yesterday to read to your sibling. I remember reading it to you with so much love. I had no idea the place you would go included heaven and that the wonderful friends you would meet would not include your daddy and me. I wept through the last pages.

I find that I can't sing to your sibling without a tremor in my voice because I remember the songs I sang to you. Your song was "Lida Rose" from The Music Man, but I always sang it as Donna Rose. That used to be one of my favorite movies, but now I can't watch it without crying.

My life is very different from what it was before you came. There are some very good changes, but also some things that I wish weren't so. I'm so glad I have your daddy. He's the very best part of my life. Your grandpa and grandma (my mommy and daddy) are so good to us too and you have lots of loving aunts and uncles who are sad they never got to meet you.

I'm a lot more fearful than I used to be. When I carried you, I didn't worry very much about the aches and pains. My body was changing for the first time. It was stretching to fit you inside. I worried about school, I worried about the future, but I never worried about you until the day we lost you. With your brother/sister, every ache scares me. Every pain screams "you could lose this baby too!" I am not so innocent anymore. It bothers me to see clueless, happy pregnant women. I want to warn them that you're never safe from losing your baby. Sometimes I really have to bite my tongue. I'm getting better at that, though. People get very offended if you suggest that pregnancy isn't just a walk in the park and a joyful thing.

I am hoping that I continue to grow this year. I hope it gets easier to be joyful and less easy to be terrified. I am hoping that your brother/sister will grow to full term and have a chance to live outside my womb. I still have so much growing to do.

I love you, Donna Rose. I wish I could watch you grow and live.

Love,

Mommy