Heart of the Sea

Dear baby B,

Before I even finished the salutation, the tears formed. I’m not even sure what they mean anymore – the tears of frustration have dissolved into resignation, the tears of fear have melted into stillness, and the tears of confusion to acceptance. I think today’s tears are for finality. For this letter, which in essence, is saying goodbye. I will still see you on the ultrasounds but I think this is separating my emotions from the cells on the screen. Your soul is no longer there anyways. It just took me a while to accept that.

The sadness, that’s still there. It’s the sadness from losing you at 10 weeks. Those tears are ones I know well. They are justified tears. You were my baby.

You did nothing wrong. You did just what you were created to do. Nature took its course and you got to meet your heavenly maker early. Too early in my book, but that’s irrelevant.

Thank you for growing slowly enough that you haven’t brought harm to your sister who so valiantly and unselfishly pumps her heart for both of you. I know neither of you had any conscious effort or control into these scenarios, but I still want to thank you for that.

You brought confusion and chaos to my life. During a time that was already a bit chaotic. But you know what, I think that’s what makes us alive. The chaos. The drama. Life. Thank you for the craziness you brought into my life. I mean that sincerely. You also reminded me of how much I love to write. How therapeutic it is for me. How words can touch other people as they deal with the dramas of their own lives.

You were a dream of mine – twins. But dreams change. They get bigger. Get crushed. Or remain a dream. Sometimes we don’t find out until the end of our lives how the dream turns out.

I imagine that throughout your sister’s life, I will look into her shining face and think of you. Maybe it will just be a fleeting thought of what it would have been like to have 2. Or maybe it will make me send up a prayer of thanksgiving that everything worked out ok. Most likely, there will be a twinge of sadness that pricks my heart even as I experience the joy of Summer.

Although I thought I’d never get to meet you, in a strange way I will. Your identical twin will have your face, your smile, your laugh.

We decided to name you because even though you left us at 10 weeks, you have still been a huge part of this journey and baby b just doesn’t quite fit anymore. It didn’t take us long to find a name that fits you. We knew what we wanted your name to mean. What you mean to us.

Cayden Marie.

That’s your name, baby girl. Cayden means heart. You have made me think about what it means to have heart. What it looks like to have heart. You have made me want to have heart. Cayden also means companion. I think both of those fit for what you have represented to us in the last 20 weeks.
We will be your heart. You will be our silent companion.

Marie. It’s my middle name. It’s part of your grandma’s name and now it’s your twin sisters middle name. It means of the sea and I can’t think of anything that goes better with Summer than the sea. You are already a forever part of our lives and with ‘Marie’ being both Summer’s middle name and mine, it’s a forever reminder of you.

We will see you one day and you will meet your sisters, Summer and Mia. Until then, precious little life, our heart of the sea, know that you will always be loved.

love,
mommy