Happy Birthday, Baby Cude

In my nightstand there are two journals, with more blank pages than filled. Each are journals I kept during my pregnancy, with the entries written as letters to my unborn children. Sometimes, when I am missing them so much I have to let it out with a pen, I write letters to them still. This is the letter I wrote to Baby Cude this morning, one year after Baby Cude's due date, which was December 19, 2010:

Dear Baby Cude

It's your would-be birthday! This day will always be bittersweet to me, as I wonder when you would have been born, what it would be like to go to the hospital to have you, what you would look like. You are still such a mystery to me. Are you a boy or a girl? What would we name you?

Recently someone asked if I have every prayed for a sign, to know if you are a boy or girl. I think I still want that to be a surprise when I see you in Heaven someday.

Today I can't help but wonder what you would be doing. How big would you be? What would it be like to watch your daddy play with you?

This day last year I recall feeling guilty from teh moment I woke up - How could I be carrying your little brother when I was supposed to still have you? I had no idea then that Gabriel had anencephaly, or how special he would be too. I know that losing you wounded me deeply, but gave me the strength to carry Gabriel. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming to me, and showing me the meaning of love and sacrifice.

I remember the day I learned you were coming. April 13, 2010. Dad and I had only been married three months but I still felt that was three months too long to wait for you. The thrill of the positive test was something I had never experienced. It was a feeling I have not experienced since. The hope and promise o that day were pure and uncolored by loss. That morning was one of the greatest moments of my life.

My precious baby, you are missed every day. Sometimes it may seem like Gabriel has taken center stage, but you are ALWAYS in my heart, and I miss you with every part of myself. I never got to feel you move, hear your heartbeat, or see your face, but I long for you every day. I look forward to the day I can hold you in my arms and get to know the wonderful person I know you are.

Happy birthday, my sweetheart.

I love you,
Momma