A letter to my unborn child.

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My husband and son sharing the pregnancy news with my mother and father in law on FaceTime | March 2015.

In honor of October 27, 2016, the 1 year anniversary of my lost baby’s due date I am sharing my prayer journal entry from April 19, 2015. Less than a week after we lost
October Hope Monaco (Feb 19, 2015 – April 14, 2016). This was written to be private, for the ears of my lost baby. I’ve since learned that if sharing these words, this journey, with others can help them, it’s worth every vulnerability.

Jesus — I wanted to be able to say something to the sweet baby that we lost. I was hoping you could pass this along for me, and tell them how much they were loved and anticipated before they even arrived….

Dear baby,

I don’t know where to begin. How do I share with you a lifetime of a mother’s love that I had saved for you in one short message? How do I share how much I adore the face and smile that I’ve only seen in my most precious dreams? You are loved. You are so cherished. You are so special to us. You had a family waiting for you and we couldn’t wait to welcome you. To hold you. To celebrate you. Not just on your October day of arrival but throughout your whole life. Your birthdays, each holiday, first steps, first words, first laughs, your first day of school.

You have a big brother. His name is Finn and I can’t wait to tell him about you. When he can understand, he will be sad, but he will love you and remember you just like we do. Like we always will. We’ve named you October, I think they will call you that in heaven until we meet you there. We were so looking forward to what the October season would bring and the way you would change and complete our family.  It seemed right to give you the name that encompasses all that anticipation and excitement that we’ll have to find a way to let go.

Jeremiah 29:11 says that Jesus has a plan for you, October, not to harm you but to prosper you. A better plan for you than I had for you. To love you by giving you a future and a HOPE. So that will be your middle name — hope.  You will be our hope. Your memory always reminding us to have hope because His plans are better than ours. I don’t know how to tell you how missed you are already, how empty I feel without you, how jealous I am that I never go tot kiss your sweet little lips or look into your beautiful eyes. My only comfort is knowing you are in the Lord’s strong, steady, loving arms. It’s true I wish you were in mine. I’ll always wish that. I’ll always want to hold you. I’ll always feel empty without you. I’ll never forget you. Not for one small second. I’ll carry you with me forever. I love you a whole lifetime’s worth of mommy’s love, and I’ll carry you with me until I see you again. And I’ll be missing you until that day.

Love,
Your Mommy

 

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We took a family day trip on October 27, 2015, to celebrate and mourn our baby’s due date.
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October 27, 2015, at the University of Notre Dame
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2 thoughts on “A letter to my unborn child.

  1. Oh my goodness. I am crying reading this beautiful letter. Wow. I have no words. Pretend I’m reaching over through the Internet and time to give you a big hug instead.

    • Oh Ailie thank you for your sweet message — hug back, friend!

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