Dear Second Little Sprout,
I haven't written you until this point like I did your older brother because I think I knew, on some level, that you were not meant to stay with us. The jumble of a mix of positive and negative pregnancy tests put a warning sign in to my head, and then when the first blood test required me to go back for a second to see if the numbers had improved, my hope wavered. When the doctor called only a few days after I first learned about you to tell me that I was losing you (today), I already knew what was happening, though I tried to hold onto brief glimmers of hope.
It's so difficult because so few people knew about you, which means there are fewer people to tell... But I also feel very alone. People try to say the right thing, but they don't. I don't want to think about how "Everything happens for a reason" or how there will be other chances and other babies or it wasn't the right time... Those comments hurt because you were very real, and I hoped you would be the one to complete our family.
There was a small part of me that has wished I hadn't known I was pregnant in the first place because then I wouldn't be in this pain, but I also don't want to pretend like you never happened. You were very much wanted. Even though you could not stay with us here, I know I will always wonder who you could have been... Whether you were a boy or a girl... Would you have looked like your big brother? What was wrong that you had to go?
You were part of me, of us, even if it was very briefly. You will not be forgotten. You were loved, and you still are.
Love,
Mommy
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