I knew you were coming before the test officially said so. That’s how quickly I fell in love with you.
Even though you are not with us now, please always know that we wanted you so badly. I was so thrilled and happy to be pregnant with you. We were going through some stressful times with my job but a lot of it didn’t matter because we had YOU.
I practiced yoga with you almost every morning. I used to wonder what you were thinking while I was doing a pose, "Hey, why am I upside down all of a sudden? Moooomm! I was sleeping because I need energy so I can grow arms this week!" I told you that all of this yoga now would make you a Buddha baby and a good athlete some day.
My favorite part of yoga with you was savasana at the end of practice. I would lie on my back on the mat and while I was supposed to be meditating I would talk to you instead. I’d tell you about all the fun adventures you would have. How we’d go skiing with your cousins who live in New Zealand and beach combing with your cousins who live in Mexico. In savasana pose, we are suppose to keep our hands on the mat, palms up as we lay flat on the floor. But I would place mine on my tummy, like I was holding you. I felt very close to you during those times.
You were the first thing I thought about when I woke up in the morning. And the last thing I thought about when I went to bed at night.
I was pretty sure that you were a boy. It was too early to know for sure, but I just knew. We talked about naming you Huck. Not sure how you’d feel about that when you were 35. But we thought it would fit the personality we imagined you might have. Huck Johnson. A good guy’s name.
I got to see your very early heartbeat. I’ll never forget seeing your picture on the screen. It reminded me of the tiny little butterflies that flock to Mt. Hood in late spring. Your dad called from his office and asked how you were doing. "Fighting like a champ," I told him. Your heartbeat was a bit slower than we all would have liked but you and I were doing our best to give it a go. To this day, I wish I would have asked your dad to come with me to the doctor’s. He would have been so proud to see your little heart beating.
The next day took you away from us. Before that day, I honestly believed you would make it. And was in denial that you hadn’t. I admit that I tried to rush past feeling sad for you. But the harder I tried to rush, the sadder I felt.
You gave me the gifts of peace and confidence. I am grateful for those gifts but ashamed that I have not let them shine recently. But I promise I will make them shine within me – in your honor.
I think about you every day. I miss you more than you will ever know.