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

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.

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

Right Now

Today, you should be 6 months old.

You should be rolling all over the place.

You should be making your daddy run after you.

You should be smiling, giggling, and making cute sounds.

You should be eating soft foods, like cereal and 'nanas.

You should be playing on your back with toys hanging on a baby gym

But instead, you're spending the time in Heaven. You've been there a little more than 10 months, my dear. Perhaps you're starting to uncurl your baby wings. Maybe the angels sing you to sleep at night. And perhaps Jesus holds you and hugs you because Mommy can't just yet. It's so hard, my dear, to be left behind. There are days when I would give anything to change places with you because having you gone just hurts so much. Your daddy and I miss you and think about you every day. I wish we could see what you are like. How you grow and develop, if people do that kind of thing in Heaven. I love you, my little rose. 

Spring Grief

Today Ben and I took his father to Fort Collins to view an apartment. On our way back, I saw a woman pushing her baby in a stroller over to a park close to our home. It kicked me in the gut. I should be that lady now. I should be taking my baby for walks on beautiful days like today. I should be fussing over making her comfortable in her stroller and keeping her booties on her precious little feet. I should be chattering away at her as I clean my kitchen and make dinner for her daddy. I should be singing to her to sooth her crying. She never got the chance to cry and I never got the chance to sooth her.