The weight of losing you is nearly unbearable sometimes, but I would go through it all again just to know the joy of loving you.

Dear Nathan,

I never imagined April 10, 2025, would look this way. I remember when I found out I was pregnant and immediately took to the internet to calculate your due date. At the time, it seemed so far away. Now that it’s here, I wish I could go back to the beginning and relive every moment spent with you.

I guess the first thing I want to tell you is I am sorry. I am so, so sorry my body failed you. People have told me over and over again not to blame myself, but I don’t think there will ever be a day where I don’t feel at least partially at fault for the way your life ended before it ever really began.

To say I think of you often is an understatement. I am never not thinking about you. Even when I am focused on something else, you are always there. I want you to know that when I think of losing you, it hurts. But the thought of you also fills me with an overwhelming love. I have loved you since before you were even conceived, and I will love you until the end of time.

The first thing I thought when you were placed on me after delivery was, “wow, he’s perfect.” And you were. You are. My beautiful angel boy with the sweetest button nose, long limbs, and curly hair. You looked just as I had imagined you would, the perfect blend of myself and your father.

During my pregnancy, I constantly wondered how your life would look. I find myself thinking about it even more now that you are gone. I long to know what your first word would have been, what your laugh would have sounded like, what your interest would have been.

I talk about you constantly. It probably drives people crazy, but I don’t care. You are so so loved and beyond wanted. The weight of losing you is nearly unbearable sometimes, but I would go through it all again just to know the joy of loving you.

Giving you over to the nurses the morning after you were born was the hardest thing I have had to do. My body moved to hand you over but my brain was screaming that I should take you and run away. Sometimes I wish I had.

I promise I will never stop talking about you or saying your name. I promise everyone in my life will know you. I promise you will always be a part of our family, and one day when you have siblings, they will know you and love you.

The only thing that brings me comfort is the belief that I will see you again. Although my spiritual and religious beliefs are a little unsteady given our circumstances, I do believe in Heaven in some form. I know you are there, waiting for me. I know I will see you again, and when I do, I am never letting you go again.

I wish more than anything that you were being born alive and well today, or even better that you were home in my arms. That isn’t our story, though, so I am just here remembering every moment I had with you and every detail of your perfect face. I love you and miss you more than I will ever be able to put into words.

Love,

Your Mama