Read at Blue's memorial service, November 19, 2011.
Oh, Blue. Today was the day we were to say hello. Instead, over a period of days
back in August, we said goodbye. For weeks I was getting to know you. I
felt your flips, your kicks, your punches. I saw you on the ultrasound,
your little feet, your little nose, your little lips. When I saw you
after you were born, I thought there was nothing wrong with you. You
looked beautiful and perfect.
But there was something wrong. You were very sick. You were going to
live in sickness every day of your life. And you were going to love,
and grow and laugh, and bring joy to my life. You were going to have
friends and go to school; you were going to get into trouble just like
every other kid. But you were going to be in pain, and you were going to
suffer, and you were going to die long before your time. And we decided
to spare you that life. I will never know what it would have been like
for you, or for our family, and I hate that. Because I miss you so much
that I don't always know that I did the right thing.
It has been so hard to move forward knowing that you won't be with
me. Every first experience with you, and then without you, stands out.
But for 25 weeks I had you, and we traveled together. You went rock
climbing, you went mountain biking, you went running and you went
swimming. You did lots of yoga. You taught me so much about love, about
life, about myself. I didn't need to lose you to learn those things.
Maybe this will all make sense someday. I wish I had held you after you
were born. I wish I had known how much I would long to touch you, and
kiss you, and sing to you. But I know you forgive me, that you know I
did my best in those early moments of my life without you.
And I know you know that I did the right thing. You know that you
will always be special to me. You are my first child and my first son. I
know you will always be with me, be a part of me. And I know that when
your brother or sister comes into this world, a little part of you will
come into this world. I cannot wait to meet you.
The first time I went to yoga after letting you go, the instructor
closed the class with a quote from Helen Keller. This is not quite the
quote but this is how I remember it: the most beautiful things in life
cannot be seen, nor touched. They must be felt." That is you, Blue. I
cannot see you, I cannot touch you, but I feel you. Every day I feel
you. And you are beautiful and perfect to your mama.