Not A Day Goes By That She Doesn’t Think Of Her Daughter

ultrasoundNovember 15, 2010

I have not written to you in a couple of weeks and I am so very sorry. Since the last time I wrote you, I had an ultrasound and you were doing really great. Your heartbeat was super strong. It sounded beautiful and tears just streamed down my face. Your heart was beating 176 beats per minute. The nurse said you looked perfect. I didn’t want the ultrasound to end. I loved seeing you and hearing your heartbeat. I have never felt such joy.

Today my heart is forever broken. You are still in my tummy but your beautiful little heart is still and silent. You are now in Heaven. I am devastated. I have never felt such intense pain or grief in my entire life. You were my miracle, my hope, my grace and my whole heart. 

Mommy has so much more to say to you but I can’t find the words right now. I pray you are safe and in the arms of a sweet angel. Today is the saddest day of my life. They gave me your pictures today. You are so beautiful. I will carry you in my heart forever. You are my heart.

I love you forever,


November 15, 2011. 

I am so very sad. Do you know how much I miss you and long for you? The pain I feel is beyond any I have ever known. I grieve you every passing second.

That horrible day plays over and over in my mind. I will never forget the nurse looking at me and saying that your heartbeat was gone. She shut off the machines and told me she was sorry. I was all alone. I sobbed and screamed out but there was no one listening. I had to get dressed and walk out into a waiting room filled with pregnant mothers that were waiting to see their babies. The nurse handed me your pictures and told me someone would come to get  me. I was told that I could either have surgery that afternoon or go home and wait to deliver you on my own. I was in shock. I was alone. I was frightened. My Doctor told me that she recommended surgery. I nodded okay. 

I fear the ultrasound was wrong. I feel in my heart it was. I have nightmares about it. What if you were still with me? I am so sorry my sweet baby. I wish I could go back to that day and change everything. I would give everything I own for you to still be with me. I am tormented by the constant thought that I killed you. Waking up from surgery and looking down at my blood soaked gown was horrific beyond words. The nurse said that I just cried for an hour saying, “my baby is dead”. I came home that night and laid in bed for a week. I felt truly dead. 

I will love you for all eternity. My greatest prayer for the rest of my life will be that I get to hold you in Heaven one day. I pray you are safe and loved and know how much I love and miss you.


November 15, 2014.

Not a day goes by that you are not in my constant thoughts and in my heart. These last four years have been the worst of my life. I carry so much guilt and shame and my heart is so burdened with the secrets I carry. It is my fault that you died. I am so sorry that I could not protect you from him. I am sorry that I married him. I am sorry that he was your Father. I am sorry that I didn’t leave him before this happened. I am sorry I couldn’t break away from him. I fought him with every ounce of my strength. I begged him to stop. I screamed at the top of my lungs ” Please don’t hurt my baby” but he was too drunk to care. I am so terribly sorry. 


An Apology To The Child I Will Never Have

baby6 Dear Little One,

I thought there would have been many letters written to you in your lifetime. None of them to be this one. Not an apology letter for not meeting you. Not a goodbye letter. But now that my biological time clock has just about ceased its ticking and the man I love is happy with our family built just of two, I guess I must.

You see, I had said hello to you a thousand times already in my mind and in my heart. I believed so much that you would be mine that you already feel like a memory. And so many people had reassured me throughout the years you were on your way that I would tear up in relief.

She is coming. My little girl. My baby girl. Katherine Grace.

I always wanted a classic name for you but Grace as your middle name because I knew you would have a calm, ethereal quality about you. Almost otherworldly.  I could see your big, brown eyes as a baby, looking up at me. Wide eyed and wondrous. Tiny pink fingers wrapped around my forefinger. Nestled in my arms. Safe as I rocked you gently.

I can see all the moments I missed with you and I am so very sorry, my dear girl. I see your brown ringlets bounce as you run about the playground. I can hear the sing song quality in your little voice as you ask me such innocent straightforward questions that make me wish I remembered more of my own education.

I can feel me carrying you on my right hip just like my mother did. We’d read bedtime stories at night. I wonder now what your favorite would have been. Would you be a tom boy or a princess? What would your favorite color have been when you were little?

Would you have been outgoing or shy? I would have played dolls with you and had parties and dressed up and we would always have a dog to love. I know you’d love dogs as much as I do.

What would you have wanted to be when you grew up? Maybe you’d first want to be a princess and then an animal doctor. How about into your teen years and beyond? I would always try to answer every question you asked truthfully even if it was about death or sex or other things I wasn’t sure about. Because I’d want you to always feel safe with me and non-judged and know you could always come to me. And I would try to make every school play or every science fair or swim meet. But not be a push over. Forget it. Sometimes you’d hate me. But that’s ok because like my mom once said to me, I would have enough love for the both of us.  And I’d be there for your first crush, first love, first heartache, be it a boy or a girl. I would just want you to know what unconditional love felt like, Katherine.

And now, without you, maybe I will never truly feel it. Not that mother child love. I can’t tell you how terribly sorry and sad I am that I will never get a chance to meet you, hold you, love you. At least, not in this life. I feel robbed somehow. But was it me that robbed you? Did I just rob myself?

Or maybe, did I save you?

I wonder if somehow I did the right thing somewhere down the path and gave up my baby to someone else that would care and love you more than I could at the time.

Did I give you up in a spiritual adoption?

Or did I just ask you to wait to meet me in another lifetime?

Could I not find your father?

Did I just make a mistake?

I feel like I did, Katherine. I feel like you are around me, somehow, lingering. I mourn you. As if you brought to me, stillborn. And I’m left with all the hopes and dreams I had not just for you, but for me as a mother and a woman. My heart breaks for you, Katherine. My heart breaks for me.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out a path to find you. It’s like I could hear your voice in the woods but I couldn’t see you and I kept looking until the voice kept getting fainter and fainter and finally, I just couldn’t hear you anymore. I knew I was too late.

I’m sorry I’m too late.

I lost my chance to have you, Katherine.  I’m sorry I ran out of time.  I’m sorry I wasn’t ready to have you earlier.  I’m sorry the man I fell in love with isn’t going to be your father. I’m sorry I will never read that last page where we all live happy ever after.

I just wanted you to know that I always loved you and I always will. And If you ever want to come and visit me in my dreams, I’d really love to see you.

Until we meet again,

Your mother,