Dear Liam,
I haven't been able to write. I hate that life goes on and I have to put you on the back burner for a bit. Honestly, even with everything else, you're all I really think about. Today was hard. I'm not sure why today was harder than some of the others. Nothing special happened, it's not an anniversary, its just a Sunday morning, another day that you are not here. I hate seeing pregnant women and newborns. It's not that I'm angry at them, or even jealous, it just reminds me of everything I'm missing because you are not here. I wrote in the group the other day about how your sister and you left behind a legacy of hope. I hoped for you since before you were even thought of. From the moment that second line turned pink, I had hopes and dreams for you. We named you the day we found out that you were a boy. Did you know that your name means "protector?" You are our guardian angel, our protector. I never wanted this, I wanted you to be here in my arms, but your name fits so perfectly. I guess Daddy chose the perfect name for you. You're our little protector who looks just like him. <3 I remember the night we named you. We'd gone to the sonogram that afternoon and found out you were a boy. I knew the minute the wand passed over that you were a boy. We were stuck on names. Daddy had suggested Liam before, but I felt it was too common. I don't know what changed my mind, but Liam Omar got stuck in my head, and I just loved the sound of it. In that instant, I knew that was your name. I was so excited to tell everyone! A couple days later we took Ville to the park to release a balloon. We sent it to Gammy to tell her she was having another grandson. I never thought you'd meet her so soon. I believe God took her when he did to prepare for you. Maybe he knew I wouldn't be able to accept losing you if you were all alone. I miss your Gammy, and I miss you and Miracle. My all time favorite memory was your birth. Yes, it was scary and yes it all ended so wrong, but your actual birth is my proudest moment. I wasn't scared, I felt strong. I drove myself to Daddy's job, I'll never know how I made it. Then, I managed to hold you in until you could be born safely. If I hadn't been able to, I may have never gotten to hear your cries or see you wiggling. I had you completely naturally. I'd wanted to, but was afraid. Labor had progressed so quickly that I had no choice. When I was finally allowed to, you were born in one big push, no drugs, just me. Well, Daddy and a nurse held my legs, so I guess they kind of helped too. Once you were born, I peered down at your tiny wiggling body. I'll never forget those cries and those tiny movements. I never saw you move again. I'll cherish those memories forever. It wasn't long after that, everything crumbled and my world was crushed. I remember the first time I held you. I don't know for sure if your heart was still beating, but I like to think it was. You looked so peaceful, and in my mind I was willing you to move. I clung to the hope that they were wrong, that love could save you. I wanted to bolt out of that hospital with you in my arms and never look back. They couldn't be right, my baby couldn't have died, I made it passed 12 weeks. I was almost full term. I know babies can die that late, but I never thought my baby would. You were our miracle baby, how could God be so cruel when we had waited so long? I still wonder why sometimes, but I've given up on ever getting an answer. Even if God himself has a reason, I'll never be able to accept that it was good enough to lose you. I remember the next day when NILMDTS cae and did pictures. I cherish those pictures. I'm not sure who, but someone left a teddy bear on the bed. I sleep with it every night. Daddy and I call him "Liam bear," because he was your bear. I swear, it smells like you sometimes. Ville sleeps with the frog I bought for you the week before you were born. He's "Liam frog." Sometimes, I go back and look at Ville's family book that he had to draw and illustrate last year. Even though you weren't actually born yet, he included you. It's my favorite picture, the only one with you, me Daddy, and Ville. I don't even have any pictures of your sister. They refused to give me an ultrasound. Daddy's going to light the candles with me on October 15th this year. I've done it every year since I lost your sister, but this will be the first year he does it too. I hope you watch for ours to light up, just know they'll be late. I'll have to light them at 10 because of work. I know you'll see them though. I miss you, and I love you.
Love, Mommy
