To my dearest unborn child

To my dearest unborn child

You would be 14 by now if our plans had worked.  I miss you.  You could also be 13, 12, 11 … 

I officially let go of our dream to have you in 2007 when we were told IVF wouldn’t work and yet, there was always a maybe… But now I know I need to say Good bye to you.  And I love you.  I miss you every moment of my conscious day.

To be honest my missing you has controlled my life and left me changed.  But how could it not.  I had such plans for you. We, Phil and I, but this is my personal note to you…

I miss feeling you in my belly.  I miss not being able to wash you clean when you were a baby, sing and read to you, feed you, laugh and cry with you.

I collected books for you.  In fact, the reason I wrote a diary for years all through my teens and on, was for you. You know, so when you become a nightmare teenager I could show you them, make you understand that I ‘get it’ even if I was the irritating mother. 

I wanted to read the Chronicles of Narnia together and Roal Dahl and the Secret Garden and Captain Underpants (which is hilarious) and when you were older to introduce my favourites to you.  Anne Shirley, Jane Eyre, Elizabeth Bennett, Jo March, Gilbert, Darcy and Superman.  I wanted to discuss Katniss Everdeen with you.  Her loyalty, her goodness and justice. To see truth.  Her strength.

And I miss not sneaking off to a café on a rainy day with you, somewhere warm to eat yummy food.  I never had doubts that you would love food like your mam.

And I miss you not having a great family, the Garlands, the Cookes, the Ancells.  I miss that Allanah and Cameron don’t have you as their cousin.  They would love you so very much and you would have had high adventures together.

Your name may have been Ella or Charlie or Dillon.

We definitely would have argued.  I miss that too.

I miss watching Phil be a great father.  He would be so protective of you and be the worrier.

But mostly I miss that you never had the chance to grow and become you. 

Goodbye for now.  I love you but it’s time to leave you in a part of my heart that doesn’t hurt so much, that won’t yearn for you every moment and won’t longingly miss you every heartbeat, every breath.  I will always want you by and in my heart.  But now, not to be overwhelmed by your loss but to be free to go on without you…

Natalie Cooke