Dear non-exist future baby of mine
I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to be born and carry on the family line, but it wasn’t my fault. I wanted you, we wanted you very badly. You might have had your dad’s curly thick hair and his cute smile. Or slightly neurotic and scatter brain like me.
I have sleepless nights. We talked a lot about the day you would have arrived, your name(s) was picked. Your future planned. I had dreams for us but mostly for you.
Maybe you do exist and we will meet in another universe someday – I look forward to that.
Maybe we were not supposed to be parents, I would have worried myself to death about you. I did mention I was neurotic! I would have wanted you to be happy with lots of friends and if anyone had hurt you I would have wanted to kill them. So maybe, subconsciously, not having you was one less thing to worry about.
I do occasionally wonder what you would have been like. Especially because I have been researching my family tree and find it fascinating that all these people with their traits, personalities, lives, genes have led to me. It makes me a little sad that no one will ever look me up, as this is the end of the line. Will I be alone on my death bed? Maybe in now a-days not having a child is best. Although if someone had made that decision further back, I wouldn’t be here to write this letter – a sobering thought.
Would we have been close? Shared the same interests? I know I would have loved you more than life itself. Some would have called you spoiled. A know it all perhaps? You would have been our greatest achievement in life, our pride and joy.
I’m sad I can’t bond with you in my tummy, sit you in my lap close to my heart, see your first step, hear your first word or grow old with you. I’m sad that I wasn’t given a choice in this matter and that my body didn’t allow me to have you first before all this sadness came. Your place is empty in my life, I will always feel like a part of me is missing or in fact empty without you.
But not even for one moment will you be forgotten – till we meet – one day-someday
With love mommy
Maritza Smith Meiring