February 23, 2011

Dear baby,
Today is the hardest day. Your dad and I went to the doctor this morning for my 8 week appointment. We were so excited to see you and hear the heartbeat. Before the ultrasound, the doctor said the fact that there was a strong heartbeat last week in the ER was very promising. I had a list of questions about the hemorrhage and other things ready to ask and we began the appointment. They did an internal ultrasound and we were able to see you on the screen - so tiny and cute with your little head and nubs for arms and legs. You looked bigger than last week - we were so excited. The doctor took pictures and measured you. He also showed me the hemorrhage was still there and a few minutes later, they took the wand out and said the saddest thing I've ever heard. "Audrey, we weren't able to find a heartbeat." 
I immediately started crying and my world closed in on me. Complete shock and total devastation in an instant. Not that you can ever prepare for something like that, but the thought never crossed my mind. We thought that if we could make it happen through last week everything would be fine. I didn't even think of this as a possibility. I couldn't. 
I want you to know I did everything "by the book" and did everything I could for you. I have to accept that this is how it's supposed to be right now. I don't understand it, I certainly don't like it, but it's out of my hands at this point and that's really tough. Having a problem with no reason, answers or solutions is a terrible feeling. I never wanted to lose you and now I'm having to mourn this loss before we've even met. 
I know people say everything happens for a reason, but right now I don't understand the reason. To me, it's just a tragedy. We went from dreaming of you every second ... what to name you, how to paint your nursery, who you would look like, what you would be, everything about you enriching our lives ... to being completely broken-hearted and thinking about the sadness associated with this loss. In one second, everything changed and we can't get it back. 

I need you to understand how much we loved you, wanted you and prayed for you. We are your parents and I'm sorry to have to write this letter. Now I can only pray for peace, patience, understanding and strength to get through this. I am so grateful to Dell for being with me and being my support system. He would have been the best father to you, and me not getting to see that unfold is harder than I could ever imagine. I am thankful to God, my amazing friends and family for loving me and for for the times I know they'll hold me up when I'm too weak to stand on my own. 

I am sad for so many reasons and scared for the future. I'm hoping to be hopeful again one day, but not today. Today, I lost my baby and I need some time for that. I have to throw out the old positive pregnancy tests still sitting on the bathroom counter, put away all the baby books, put a stop to the daily pregnancy emails and do my best to be okay again. I know it's going to take me a while and that's okay. I'll do my best to be strong because you can't. I promise to do my best and that's really all I can do right now. I know God has a plan for all of us ... even you were a part of His plan (your time was just about 100 years too short).