Haddie Bo Bo,

How crazy is it that I find myself looking at a website for grief support for parents who have lost infants.  How is this happening, Haddie?  Is this my reality forever?

Last night was our church group’s first big get together since you have passed.  The last one was for your Daddy’s 30th birthday, 2 days for before you passed.  I was nervous and anxious to go yesterday.  Last time we were together you were sitting on my hip, clinging to me, not wanting me to pass you around.  This time was very different.  We went to Oval Beach in Saugatuck.  I had only ever been to this beach one other time.  It was right after you were born and you sat in your carseat asleep the whole time.  This time I sat on a beach chair and watched your sister play with the other kids.  I didn’t carry your heavy car seat down the sandy hill.  I didn’t slather sunscreen all over your fair skin.  I didn’t try to keep a hat on your bald head as you pulled it off.  I didn’t feed you a bottle in a beach chair.  I didn’t have to wipe the sand out of your eyes as you cried.  I didn’t do any off these things, but oh how I wish I could have.  I wish I was the parent that was juggling a toddler and baby at the beach.  What I would give to have those moments.  I sat in my beach chair and talked about you, cried about you, longed for you.

Today I got a package of photos I printed off of you.  You are so alive in them, so happy, so sweet.  I struggle to believe that you are really gone forever.  I saw you in that casket, I saw where they sowed up your head,  I have your ashes in a box, I should know that you are not coming back.  But do I really?  I miss the way our life use to be, the happiness, the craziness.  Most of all baby, I miss you, and who you were.  You were sweet, smiley, and kind.  You loved to cuddle, laugh, and give kisses.  I was drawn to you probably because you were so different from me.  I want you…I want you…I want you.

Your Daddy and I had some stressful moments yesterday.  We are both hurting so badly and sometimes that doesn’t come out in the most loving way.

Aunt Alisa came over yesterday and brought Everett and Crew to play.  Crew came in and sat on the floor, I was holding Elo.  Elo says, “Awww look at Crew.  Our baby gone.  Haddie gone.”  Elo loves Crew and she misses you, “Our Baby”.  It was good to have a baby crawling around our kitchen again.  Crew was standing against the patio door just like you used to do.  He started standing on his own for several seconds at a time.  It reminded me of what you would be doing if you were still here.  You would have taken your first steps by now and probably saying, “Mama” finally.

I’m so sorry, baby, I love you,


This is from the night before you died.