Letters to My Daughter

Something that I saved for a post all on its own... and something that just happened to be mentioned by a friend of mine... so I had to post today.

I will begin my book this year, a book I want to call Letters to My Daughter: A Journey of Non-Traditional Motherhood... well, I do want to call it Letters to My Daughter for sure.

Some of my story is already written. It is in the letters that I have written to Kylie over the past 15 months, letters that speak my heart and tell the story of my grief and healing. The book will consist of a series of letters that I have already written as well as letters and chapters that have yet to be written. I'm not sure how it will go, but it has been pulling on my heart for a long time to write this book and to share my story with as many people as possible. I want to share Kylie so that her life will help others. Kylie can be other people's hope and inspiration.

So, I thought I would find my first letter to my daughter and include it here, to start the new chapter of the new year, of my "new normal", and to reminisce, because where better to start than at the beginning?

This is the first letter I wrote. The following letter was written October 16, one day after Kylie's passing.

Kylie,
Mommy is so sad that I had to let you go yesterday. Words cannot express the hurt I feel and the size of the hole in my heart. Your daddy and I had so many plans for you and your future. We waited five years to find out we were having you. If you could have only seen our joy when the doctor told us we were going to be parents- I loved you even before I knew, but at that moment, you owned my heart. Each doctor's visit and each time I heard your heart beat or saw you on an ultrasound, I was overcome with joy and happiness. Your life, however short it was, taught me a love and joy I never knew was possible in any lifetime.

I want you to know that right now is very hard for me. Last night, I cried out for you, cried to have you back, begged your daddy to give you back to me. Today, tomorrow, and the days to come, I know I will again cry out for you. I'm not trying to be selfish, I just feel like my job was left unfininished, like it was so unfair for you to be taken from me and your daddy. You see, we never thought we'd be blessed with a child, more or less the vision of perfection you were. For two precious weeks, you fought with more strength than I could imagine your tiny body having. For two glorious weeks, you were here in this world and you were here for mommy and daddy.

I will always remember your tiny little face- I studied it daily. You had your daddy's cheeks and facial structure, and his lips. You had my nose and chin- and they fit perfectly with that sweet set of baby blue eyes. You were, to me, the definition of perfection. Thank you for blessing me with the miracle of your life- you were so strong for us, and I am trying so desperately to be strong for you. You beat the odds so many times- they thought I would miscarry... they thought you wouldn't make it past a few days when you arrived... they thought you wouldn't make it through Wednesday night.

I knew Wednesday night, whether I wanted to admit it or not, that you were going to be leaving me. The surgery was just too hard on you. When you lifted your eyes to me yesterday morning, I knew you were telling me that it was going to be okay, and that you were going to be okay. And most of all, when I came back to your bedside with Grammy, I knew you were telling me it was time, that you had enough, that you just couldn't do it anymore. You made our decision for us, and I thank you for making it easier. I knew it was your time, and your daddy knew, and we had to let you go. I am so thankful I held you in my arms as your tiny little heart stopped. I had to hold you before you were gone. I had to know that you felt my arms around you.

I just wanted to let you know how much I love you and will always love you. You mean more to me than anything in this world. Your daddy and I are so proud of you and the strength you showed. You taught me more in 2 weeks than I have learned in my entire life. Even in your short time, you were taking care of your mommy. Your big sister would have been so good to you; I wish you could have met her before you passed. She would have loved you from the moment she saw you.

I want you to also know that you will always be my princess and my angel, and that I will never forget you. It is so hard right now, and today at the funeral home will be hard... and your funeral will be hardest. I'm so afraid that your daddy will have to hold me back from throwing myself in with you... I just so desperately want you back in my arms. We worked hard on your beautiful bedroom... I wish you could have come home to it. We bought you all kinds of beautiful clothes and toys and things.... I'm so sorry I couldn't have done more to help you.

I love you and miss you more than words can express.

Love always,

Mommy