3 weeks ago today I lost you. I found out only days before that your heart had stopped beating. I remember seeing you on the ultrasound snuggled up in my belly, fast asleep. Mommy had a feeling but never thought I would actually hear the words "I'm sorry. You're baby has died." I had been walking around with you inside me but you were already in heaven watching over me. I was so angry and confused when I heard the horrible words, I wanted you out of me right then but at the same time wanted to keep you inside my belly forever, so I could protect you and keep you warm.
When I delivered you, my instinct was to reach for you and hold you close. You were taken straight away and I cried for you, I didn't care what anyone said, I wanted to have you with me, our hours were numbered and I didn't want to waste a second. When I held you for the first time you were all wrapped up in your hospital blanket but I can't forget thinking how cold you were. I wrapped you up so tight and rocked and rocked and rocked you and cried, hoping somehow my pain would keep you warm. I remember thinking that the nurses probably looked at me like I had lost my mind. I was so worried about them keeping my dead baby warm and comfortable but now I don't care what they thought, I had to protect you and still feel as if I failed you.
When I said my final goodbye to you, I kissed your little nose, your long fingers and your tiny cold feet. I must have told you a million times how much I loved you and always would, somehow I felt like the words traveled to you, that if I said it enough you would finally know just how much you were loved and missed, maybe the nightmare would rewind and we would have you with us again.
When your little body left us that night, I felt so empty inside. I stared for hours at nothing. I looked out the window as the nighttime world went by and moved on. Knowing that I would have to move on without you, tore me apart. One of the things that haunts me most is thinking of the time you spent all alone in the morgue. Your tiny body so cold, mommy wasn't there to hold you. I know your soul was with God but your body was all I ever had, all I could ever protect and again I failed. You sat alone over a week and I cried and cried for you. When we finally picked up your cremains, I held you close the whole way home. I didn't have the strength to take your tiny little urn out of its box until a few days ago. Now you sit in the windowsill in the kitchen, in the best spot that gets the warmest and brightest morning and evening light. I feel like you are safe now, you are warm now and you are happy. It doesn't make me miss you any less but sometimes now I actually find myself smiling. I know you would be proud.