The Story of You: A Letter to My Unborn Child

Thursday – January 8, 2009
My hands were shaking; my whole body trembled as I watched the home pregnancy test, now sitting on the counter on account of my shaky hands, turn positive. Pregnant? Really? I holler for your Dad to come to the bedroom. He cried he was so happy. You see, you were planned, we just didn’t expect you. We had tried for quite a while, but never were we blessed with actually becoming pregnant.

We went to the doctor a couple hours later so he could confirm that you were in fact there inside me, growing. The nurse congratulated us. There was a part of me that still did not believe you were there. After all, I didn’t feel different. Of course, you were only four and a half weeks old, no bigger than the period that ends this sentence.

Your Dad and I parted ways for the day to go to work. So many women don’t tell anyone they have a baby growing inside them for a few months, just to make sure they are past the “danger zone.” I knew right away I was not one of those women. I couldn’t contain myself. At work I blurted out “I’m pregnant” to a co-worker who teared up with joy for me. She knew we had wanted you for a very long time. Driving home from work I called your Grandma and Granddad to tell them about you. My goodness they were excited! Even though it was only a phone call I could tell they were both crying tears of joy.

I called your uncles later that night to spread the word to your aunts and cousins that you would be arriving mid-September. Your four year old cousin, Joel, was very confident that you were a boy and he couldn’t wait to meet you and play with you! And I couldn’t wait for you to meet your Aunt Holly. She just loves babies! I tell you this because I want you to know how many people love you already.

After a couple days I started to feel this constant motion sickness. I soon realized this is what most people refer to as “morning sickness.” I quickly found a way to keep the sickness under control so I could still be productive at work. I was not sleeping very well for a week or so after we found out you were inside me. I could only sleep for about two to three hours at a time. I suppose it was a combination of excitement to meet you and fears of the unknown.

At one point I started to cry uncontrollably about anything and everything. I was so scared of having you grow inside me, of you being born, that you might not be healthy when you were born. I was also scared of after you were born — of you getting hurt, or of someone hurting your feelings. It pained me so much to think of you being hurt in any way. But your Dad, being the smart guy that he is, realized I was just so tired that he calmed me with his loving hugs and kisses and put me to bed straight away.

I am a very organized person, so I went to work researching birthing classes, La Leche League meetings, and even prenatal yoga classes. I researched and found the best ever stroller and the safest car seat I could find. I already had an appointment set up to tour a birthing center and meet the nurse midwives who would help you in the birthing process. Date nights with your father were consumed with discussions of what to name you when you were born and if I would continue working after you were born. What a joy it was planning and dreaming of what you would look like, what you would become, how God would use you to bring glory to his name.

I was suddenly very aware of my belly. Though you were not big enough yet to make my tummy bigger, some of my pants no longer fit. Every time I turned in my sleep I would awake concerned I might hurt you if I slept on my stomach. I was so excited; I still had a hard time envisioning myself with a big tummy as you grew bigger and bigger. But I have to admit I was very excited for you to grow so people would know by just looking at me that you were in my tummy.

Thursday – January 22, 2009
I awoke early in the morning while it was still dark outside. I noticed the slightest pain, more of a discomfort really, in my lower left abdomen. Yesterday I saw a little pink when I went to the bathroom. I got ready for work and called the doctor, just to make sure everything was alright. Dad came with me. At the end of a long three hour appointment the doctor came into the room where your Dad and I already knew what he had to say. “They couldn’t find the baby,” he said. I cried. Your Dad tried to be strong, but he loved you so much he cried too. The doctor cried with us and prayed with us and for us beseeching God for comfort and grace to deal with the sadness of losing you while still trusting in His ultimate sovereignty.

Friday – January 23, 2009
I never knew I could love someone so much without ever having met them. My heart aches every time I think of you and the fact that you are no longer growing inside me. My eyes are swollen and red from crying so much. Sometimes I think I have run out of tears and then I remember you again. I was so looking forward to meeting you in September. I pray for the graceful patience I will need as I wait to meet you, someday — when Jesus calls me home. But I want you to know, I really want you to know how much you are loved and how much you are missed, not just by me and your Dad, but by so many others. 
Your cousin Joel cried when he heard you went to be with Jesus. And we cry, too, still.

I have learned in my life not to ask God why certain things happen or don’t happen, but I can’t help but wonder. Part of me feels that I should be angry with God. I am not — I trust Him. Although perhaps that is part of the grieving process I haven’t arrived at yet. But I trust that He is big enough to handle my tantrums and yet small enough to hold me in His arms and whisper comfort to my soul. I don’t need to tell you this, you know Him better than I. You are in His presence.

Ah, that was my biggest dream for you – that you would live and dance in the presence of the Almighty and know His love above all others. My dream came true.

I will love you for now and always,

Mom

Thank you to my dear friend Sarah for allowing me to share this very personal story of hers.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.  May God’s love be felt deeply by all those who have experienced the loss of a child.

Kristin Detloff

Kristin Detloff

Kristin Detloff is a married, homeschooling, mother of four, loving life in small town Iowa. When not immersed in the unpredictable adventures of motherhood you can often find her chatting it up with the girls at Living The Sacrament: A Catholic NFP Community, an online, Natural Family Planning support forum she founded in Jan of 2010. Kristin is deeply invested in the future of the pro-life movement, currently working as a member of the The Guiding Star Project Board of Directors. Read more of her thoughts by visiting the LTS blog and connect by following her on Twitter!

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