Dear baby,

I sit here tonight, and try to envision what life will be like with you here in my arms. And when that day comes, I’ll have to remember what life was like before you entered our world.

Looking ahead, or looking back, my vision shifts. As I focus my eyes on you, there will always be another baby in the picture.

There was another baby, you know.

But of course, you couldn’t know. You haven’t met your other siblings yet. How could you know about the baby who is no longer here? The one that came before you?

As I feel your small flutters, an incandescent sensation reminding me that your presence will be felt more and more with each passing day … I’m reminded that while time brings you closer to us, it is taking our other baby further away.

Memories, once sharp and crystal clear, dull with the passage of time.

And as I bond with you, I let go a little more of the hopes and dreams we once had for them. As hard as I might try, I can no longer hold dreams for all of you.

How will I tell you about the other baby? The one you’ll never meet. The one we had to say goodbye to in order to say hello to you.

How I wish I only knew how to say hello … Never good-bye.

How can I tell you that you were both so wanted? ARE still wanted? And that if I could change anything in the world, it would be to be able to have you both in my arms, and not just both in my heart.

One day, you might notice the faraway look in my eyes, the single tear of remembrance rolling down my face. It comes when I envelop you in the soft, downy blanket we held onto after our loss. When I look down at you, and catch a glimpse of our other baby looking back, just for a moment. When I rock you in the chair I rocked your brother in.

What will I say to you when you are old enough to ask?

Will I say that loving your sibling prepared us to love you more? Will I tell you that our world felt dark and gray for a time, as though nothing would be right in our world again … And then you showed up and gave us a ray of light in that dark place of grief? Will I tell you that the way I parent you, the way I love you, has been forever altered by a soul you’ve never met? And that the impact of that one life will affect you for the rest of yours?