Remembering the final good-bye

Dear beautiful daughter of mine,

Mommy just wanted to send a little note to you letting you know how much I am still thinking of you this week and especially, today. Today, Kennedy, was the last time I was able to say good-bye to you with you physically still with me. I can remember exactly the way it felt and the way I looked when doing it. I had been told by the nurses that I needed to start getting ready for surgery. So, I went into the bathroom at the hospital to change into the gown that they had given me. As I got undressed, I remember looking in the mirror for the final time while having you in my tummy, put my right hand on my tummy, and said "Goodbye, my little angel. I will miss you." After that, I couldn't look in the mirror the rest of the day because I knew nothing would ever be the same again. You would never be with me on Earth in a physical matter.

When it was time for my surgery, I was taken in the bed through the OB section of the hospital. I remember how they took me right by the babies. Although, they tried to do it in the fastest manner, it was one of the things that I will remember most. I knew that you would never be in that window, Kennedy. I knew that my baby would never have the chance to be "oohed" and "ahhed" at or asked whose beautiful baby that was. I'm sorry you didn't have that, sweetie. Then, the surgery came, and before I went under, I guess I asked the doctor to do another ultrasound to make sure that you were gone. I have no recollection of this, Kennedy, but it must have been on my mind enough to really want to make sure before they took you away from me. I also made sure that once the procedure was over, that I wouldn't have to actually see the ultrasound they would do to make sure you were completely gone. I couldn't bear to see that empty screen without my little chickadee in it. Today, I still have haunting memories of what that will look like.

After the surgery, I remember a strange sense of relief. I wasn't in so much physical pain anymore...but the pain was different. It was an ache for you. But the pain was more in my heart than in my back, tummy and legs. It's the same pain I still feel for you today a whole year later. I ache to hold you, kiss you, and be with you. I ache to be your mommy here on Earth. I think I will always feel that, Kennedy. No matter what...until the day that we are with each other again.

Oh, Kennedy, how I miss you and wish that things could have been different. How I wish that you were here with me today celebrating the birth of your "cousin," George and getting ready to go out trick-or-treating with your Grandma Gigi. You would have been the cutest baby in your costume (although I have no idea what you would have been). I continue to see baby Dorothy costumes and shoes, so we may have gone that route this year. I know that I really have no idea how you would have been on Earth...if you would have been sick, hurting, in the hospital, etc., but I know how much I just wish you were here. Granted, I wouldn't want you to be suffering, so I pray that you are well up in Heaven...and happy. I know that we will be together again someday, but right now, that just doesn't seem soon enough.

Please have fun with your angel friends up in Heaven...there are way too many of you up there, and I wish it wasn't that way, but I am glad that you have friends and people that love you. Hugs and kisses to you, my baby girl. Happy Halloween, in case I don't write again!!

Love you always,
Mommy