Two years ago today, I experienced the hardest, saddest, most heartbreaking day of my life: losing you.
You had been growing for 4 months inside of my belly. On June 22nd we went in for a routine doctor’s appointment, this day was supposed to be very happy and special because we planned on finding out if you were a little boy or girl. I was looking forward to this appointment, so much that I had a dream about it the week before. In my dream, as I was laying there, the Ultrasound Tech didn’t say anything to me about you. I’ll always wonder if the night I had that dream is when your heart stopped beating… Fast forward to a week later (June 22), the Ultrasound Tech didn’t say a word to me about you. I looked on the screen and your little body was so still. But I wasn’t worried… Until she told me that she had to go over some information with the doctor and to sit in the lobby.
That’s when I started to panic…
Your daddy was at home with your 3 big brothers. So I started texting and calling him to tell him that something wasn’t right.
The doctor called me into the back.
He told me that they didn’t see a heartbeat.
I was shattered.
Your heart was just beating the week before at my last appointment!
I drove home… a 4 minute drive that seemed to be the longest drive of my life.
As soon I got home, I ran to your daddy’s arms and told him that we lost you. That you didn’t have a heart beat. We held each other and cried together.
Your delivery was scheduled for the next day, June 23 2015. We went to the hospital and they put us in a labor and delivery suite. As I looked around at the little infant bed and rocking chair, I couldn’t help but to cry. I would never get a chance to rock you.
… cuddle with your warm little body.
… see you smile.
… hear your first cry.
… change your first diaper.
Life is made up of so many tiny moments and although the little time that I had with you was (and still is) heartbreaking I’m grateful for it.
It hurts me so much to talk about this because I hate reliving what happened.
Today, I don’t want to tell you about your heartbreaking delivery.
I don’t want to tell you about how your daddy and I had to dig your grave.
And buy your gravestone.
I don’t want to tell you about how we had to tell your big brothers (who were all under 4 at the time) that mommy didn’t have a baby in her belly anymore.
I don’t want to tell you about the heartbreaking phone call I made to your grandparents explaining what happened.
Or how I almost completely lost my Faith…
I still can’t bring myself to look at pictures of you.
… to look at photos of your tiny casket.
… to look at or smell the blankets that you were wrapped in.
I mourn for you everyday.
Today, I’m celebrating the fact that you ARE in heaven! And through God’s grace, I’m looking forward to meeting and seeing you again whenever I go on to glory.
You are so loved baby boy!
I will never ever forget you!
Though your time on earth was short, one day we will be together for all time and eternity! Glory to our Heavenly Father!
Happy ANGEL day, Abel!
Happy BIRTHDAY, baby boy!
I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say!