Goodbyes are not forever. Goodbyes are not the end. They simply mean I miss you.. Until we meet again.

Monday, October 21, 2013

To Bella..

My Bella,

It was a Wednesday the day you were born. I went to work the day before and I had no idea that you were slowly planning your great escape. My calendar was filled with weekly doctors appointments for the next few weeks. There was a big circle around December 21st that said, "Bella's Birthday!!" in bright pink letters, and right next to it, on the following day there was a small note that said, "Bella's surgery." I would flip through the small pocket calendar over and over counting the days until I would meet you.

That Tuesday was just like any other day. I counted the days, I counted your kicks, and I prayed for the strength to be brave. As the days inched closer to your due date I grew more and more afraid. I wanted to meet you more than you know, but to be honest my love, I was terrified of everything you'd have to go through. I feared that I wouldn't be able to be the mother you needed. Over and over I tried to talk myself out of that terrible fear, but it didn't work. I was terrified. On that Tuesday, I had no idea that it'd be the last time I'd allow myself to truly admit my fear out loud.

I had stopped dreaming about you by that time. Fear had filled my thoughts at night to the point that I didn't allow myself to dream. Instead, I strategically planned our future together. I read blogs from other mothers and I took notes. I looked for all the latex free things I could find. I figured out ways to tell everyone that you'd be okay. I prayed to God that I could be the mother you needed.

I was already so deeply in love with you Bella. I loved you from the moment that I knew of your existance. I may have been scared, but to be completely honest, you stole my heart and that fear was no match for you. I knew about the medical issues the day that they told me you were a girl, and even then, I went and bought your first outfit. I cried as I picked out that little set of footsie pajamas with the cupcake on it. I held it in my arms and I silently begged God to make it all go away. I debated with myself about whether I should buy it or not. I wandered around the girl section with the words from the doctors echoing in my head. Chances of mental retardation. Developmental delays. Physical disablility. Spina Bifida. Hydrocyphalus. I tried to shake them off, but they were there. I remember taking a deep breath and walking to the counter. I paid for the adorable little PJ's and I assured you that this was only the beginning my love. As I walked away, with the onesie in hand, I felt more and more determined to be your voice, to love you like no one else could, to be the mother I was meant to be.

The night before you were born, I tossed and I turned. I felt the pressure in my stomach, but I didn't understand what it meant. Bella, I'm sorry that I didn't know. I've replayed that night in my head over and over, searching for an alternative scenario. Maybe if I had noticed during the day or if I'd complained about the pain sooner. Maybe you could've grown and been stronger for your surgery. Maybe, if things had gone as planned, you'd still be here. I'd be planning your 4th birthday the way it was meant to be.

I love you Bella. I love you more than words could ever truly express. You are my heart, my soul, my everything. I miss you every single moment of every single day. That won't ever change. I promise.

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