Dear baby,

It’s me, your mommy. I’m sorry that I did such a horrible thing to you. I knew that you and me were connected the moment I saw that little blue plus sign. I remember everytime me and daddy would fight,  I would cry, and I knew you cried with me because my stomach hurt. And when I would laugh, you laughed with me because my stomach had butterflies. I know you hate your daddy, because he didn’t want you. I wanted you, you know I did. But I was being pressured and you know your mommy’s not good under pressure like your daddy is. Sometimes, when I get stomach cramps, or I get nauseous, or I take a long soothing nap, I still think you’re in my tummy, waiting to surprise me each day. I wanted to see you at the clinic when they did that ultrasound. I wanted to know if you were mommy’s little boy, or girl. You would’ve been Audrianna or Daniella, or Malik or Caden or Skyler. Me and you would’ve been the best of friends. We would’ve had so much fun, me watching you grow each week, developing fingers and toes. Who would you look like: me or daddy? How would you sound when you laughed or cried? How would you hold my finger? I wonder every day about those things and I can’t stand what I did to you because I know it hurt. But it also hurt me. I just want to let you that I love you, I love you soooooo much. I can’t describe it. When I’m 24 or 25 or 26, we’ll meet someday, and you’ll open your little eyes and I’ll smile at your cute face.

I miss you and I haven’t forgotten you. I’m sorry. I am.

Love, Mommy.