A Letter For You, Love.

Just mid-last week, I assured you that no one's going to harm you. Not while I'm around, at least. I was telling you to just keep holding my hands and to never ever let go. It's going to be you and me all the way, little one.

But last Friday, you decided to let go of my hands and left.

What happened, love? Didn't you feel how much I cared about you? Didn't you know how excited I was to meet you? Didn't you want to stay and meet me, too? Why did you leave so soon?

I can't help but think that I didn't take care of you enough. That I didn't take enough precaution. That I wasn't careful in handling you. Was I? People keep telling me that it wasn't my fault. That God has a bigger reason why He let this happen to us. I fail to see the reason behind this. No matter how hard I try to look for a different perspective on things, I fail to see the point in taking you away from me.

I'd trade anything for a chance to take back Friday and have it go by differently. Maybe then we'd have a chance to be together longer forever.

Right now, there's not much that I can do except to keep you in my heart. I can't stop thinking of how you turned to face us during the first ultrasound, or the fact that you were still moving when I picked you up. You're not just a developing fetus, little one. Not to me, anyway.

I'm not sure if I can ever say goodbye to you, love. I didn't get the chance to say hello.

Please remember that I love you, little one. You will always be mama's first baby.