My baby Kevin,
It is September, the month you are supposed to be born, a year ago. Instead, you came three months earlier and sent everyone battling for life, including yours.
I regret not letting your daddy listen to your gentle knocks often when you were in my belly. I selfishly wanted it for myself, a secrete bond. Your daddy would have had plenty of chances to feel you, when I past 27 weeks, 28 weeks, and 29 weeks… But, that chance never came. I blew it.
I regret not seeing the doctor right away when I had swollen feet and numbing fingers. I was told that they were normal symptoms. On the dark night of 6/26/2013, I faced the silent killer of HELLP syndrome, unprepared and lost you forever. A life long lesson I would never forgive myself.
I regret not have the chance to feed you. Milk came after you left. You came too soon and left too quickly. A hello became a goodbye.
I regret not holding you the entire night after you passed away. I had you in a crib away from my hospital bed. I was ashamed and angry. That dark summer night, I lost the chance to ever hold you again in my arms.
I regret not seeing you being cremated — The rebirth. How brave of you going there alone, a place where everyone goes eventually. Now, nothing could ever harm you.
I regret…I regret…I regret…
I regret lots of things. But, I do not regret ever having you. You had me seeing the glimpse of motherhood, for however short. My life is no longer the same and never will be. Through my broken heart, achy body, blurry vision, you are living through me.
My baby Kevin, it is good to finally have met you. The shortest 10 minutes ever in one’s life, having you in my arms, alive, kicking and then peacefully passing.