Infertility Diaries

Dear Poppy,

I can’t believe you’re gone. The two months I knew you were the best of my life. You brought me so much joy for simply existing. My life will never be the same without you in it. Everything seems so hard, confusing, and sad. Was I so naive to assume you would make it to the other side my womb? To assume that one day we would be face to face and would get to know each other intimately? To buy you clothes and books, come up with ideas for your nursery, and think about what school you would go to? The first time I heard your heartbeat was the most beautiful sound I ever heard.

Life seems so unfair and filled with so much pain? Why did you have to go? Was it because my body couldn’t provide what you needed to survive? If so, I’m eternally sorry. You deserve the world, Poppy, and had the brightest future ahead. I will never forget about you and will always anticipate the day we will get to meet again.

On Monday, July 10th, I started bleeding. On Tuesday, I went in for an ultrasound and in the most chilling experience of my life I saw your body float and no heartbeat go across the screen like it did the first time. We learned that you stopped growing around 8 weeks, which meant you probably died around June 27th. I wish I could know the moment your heart took its last beat.

I came home from my appointment and took a shower. I stood there weeping like I never had before “my baby” as bloody tissue left my body. On Wednesday, in the new most traumatic and painful experience of my life, my womb was no longer your home. I wish it wasn’t so painful so I could have felt more emotionally connected to you at that time. I’m sorry that I flushed the toilet so quick that I didn’t get to see you. I didn’t mean to and then it was too late. Since then, I just lay here in sadness thinking of what could have been.

My only comfort is found knowing that you will never have to face the pain of the world, and that you will get to spend nearly all of your existence in heaven. I’m running out of words right now because my sadness is turning to anger. I will write again soon.

P.S. I really thought I would give you these letters as a gift someday. Now they will forever remain a personal diary for how much I love you. I have so much love to give. Why was the one I loved most have to be taken away?