Dear World, I wish you knew that I will always miss my baby. It doesn’t matter how many days, months or even years go past, she will always be my baby and I will always miss her. Always.
Dear World, I wish you knew that it will always be hard to see other babies and children doing things that my baby never had the chance to do. Every first step, every first day at school, every “first” of other children tugs at my heart as I remember that my baby never had the chance to have any “firsts”. It hurts, dear world, it hurts.
Dear World, I wish you knew that my perceived lack of interest in your pregnancy announcements, birth notices or baby photos is in no way a reflection on you. I’ve had too many friends experience a pregnancy loss that my heart can no longer fully rejoice in pregnancy announcements. Instead I hold my breath and pray that your baby makes it alive. But when they do, and I see your happy photos, I cannot help but think back to my own photos. Those photos show a mix of love and sorrow and it hurts me to see that yours only contain joy. Please be patient as I learn to balance my sorrow with your joy. Please.
Dear World, I wish you knew that having another baby does not change any of the above. Yes, the safe birth of my son has brought great amounts of healing to my grieving mama’s heart. But I still miss my daughter and your child’s “firsts” are still hard. Pregnancy announcements still make me hold my breath and I’m still learning to be joyful at your birth notices and photos. I need you to understand that my son’s safe arrival has not fixed me.
Dear World, I wish you knew that it is ok to include my daughter. In fact, it’s better than ok, it makes my heart sing! Please include my baby when you count how many children I have and on Mothers Day, birthdays and other significant days, don’t think it will upset me to include her. It will do the opposite, I promise.
Dear World, I wish you could know the pain in my heart without having to experience it; perhaps then you would be more gentle with me. I wish you knew that baby loss is not something you can “catch” like a cold; perhaps then you wouldn’t back away when I speak of my daughter.
Dear World, there are a lot of things I wish you knew. But above all else, I wish you knew that my love for my baby will never fade.
Larissa is wife to Marcus and mama to four, including one precious girl lost to stillbirth. She writes about her daughter and life after loss at Deeper Still.