Presenter, blogger, vlogger, media contributor, Mum (not in any order!) Trying to work out this parenting thing & documenting it in my own unique and real way x

To the daughter I’ll never meet

You would have been two next month.

I only knew you for a few short weeks.  But you were so wanted and so loved.

I even got to see you on the screen.  A tiny grey ball of possibility.  With a beautiful beating heart.

But your heart couldn’t beat fast enough.

My body was attacking yours, even though we didn’t know that at the time.

We tried to get you to hang on with injections and drugs, but a couple of days after we’d seen you I knew you’d gone.  I wish we’d got a photo.  Why didn’t we get a photo?

To many, you would have just been a ball of cells – not a life.  But to us you were the baby we so desperately wanted.  Especially after we’d lost your brother the year before. (I don’t know it was a boy, but it felt like it to me.)

I thought you would be our rainbow baby.

When the tests came back and we were told you were a girl my heart shattered.  Into a million pieces.

For some reason hearing boy or girl made it more real.  You were always a person to me – but now you were my daughter.

The daughter I’ll never get to touch.  To smell.  To kiss.  To feed. To stare at for hours and take a million photos.

We’ll never get to go shopping, to talk about life. We’ll never be able to mull things over with a coffee.  I’ll never get to warn you about unsuitable boyfriends that you’d probably end up going out with anyway.

Would you have been blonde like your brother Noah, or perhaps you would have taken after your wonderful dad?

I’ll never know.

I’ve started crying writing this.  And I feel embarrassed crying, even though there’s no one here apart from Noah who’s snoozing in his cot.  I think about you both everyday.  Not usually in a sad way anymore, which is nice. But you’re both there, ingrained in my body and soul forever. Part of my DNA.

I know you had to make room for your brother Noah.  He is amazing.  He’s loving and funny and bright.  He’s obsessed with trains and loves to climb and give kisses.

I’m so thankful that my short time with you led us to find out why I couldn’t keep our babies alive.  You gave us the answers we needed to have your brother – and I’ll be grateful for the rest of my living days.

You were special – our daughter.

Thank you for being part of my heart

x

(if you enjoyed seeing posts about our wedding in August, please consider making a small donation to Tommy’s on our wedding page xx)

to the daughter i'll never meet

 

Other posts that may interest you – from me:

Coping with miscarriage

 

Me and My Killer Cells

 

Please let me cry if I need to

 

From Al at The Dad Network:

http://www.thedadnetwork.co.uk/multiple-miscarriages/

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4 Responses to To the daughter I’ll never meet

  1. That hit a nerve. Before i had my princess i had a miscarriage. Didnt even know i was pregnant. Was a scary time hearing the words that i was miscarrying …. that my baby had died tore me to pieces.
    I wrote a letter along the same lines as yours and tied it to a helium balloon and sent it to the heavens for my precious to read. She would have been 6 this year. They are always in our hearts they never stray far from our minds and i know that i will never forget her but am greatful that she helped keep her sister safe and has stayed by her side ever since (my princess has mentioned playing with her sister)
    Beautiful words.

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To the daughter I’ll never meet

by RealGirlRamblings time to read: 2 min
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