Dear Hillton....

My sweet baby Hill,

I didn't write you something to read at your tree service, and I feel like I will always regret that. I was too deep in my grief that I couldn't see past it. I didn't know I would wish I had talked to you that day. So, I hope you can read blogs in heaven, Bubs. 

I was 5 weeks pregnant when I found out I was going to be your mommy. I couldn't believe it. A baby of our own. I couldn't wait to tell your daddy. You should have seen his face light up when he realized our whole world would soon change. 

At 7 weeks I started bleeding and hurried to the hospital. I was so scared because I wanted you so bad, baby. I wanted you even though I had no idea who you were yet. All I knew was that you were made just for me. That day was the first time we ever saw you. A little, baby gummy bear with a strong heartbeat. Some hope. 

We had a fun time for the next 20 or so weeks. Everything was perfect. You started to kick me and we found out you were a BOY! We celebrated. You were already so loved, buddy. We ate chocolate sundaes and French fries as often as possible and took a belly picture every week. Mommy was getting BIG. 

At 27 weeks we started our first big challenge when I was put on hospital bed rest because you tried to come too early. You were ready....we were not. We got through the next 2 weeks together and I talked to you everyday and listened to your sweet, little heart rate. Music to our ears. 

12/14/15 something wasn't right. We knew you were on your way (for real this time!). It was too early but for some reason your daddy and I were so excited, giddy almost. There was no fear. You came into this crazy world screaming and we saw your precious face for the first time. I couldn't believe we made something so beautiful. We were so excited when you decided to be born. And the days following were wonderful. There was no doom. There was no sign of death. There was only joy and happiness and a longing to take you home. I am thankful for that. I am thankful there was only celebration. That's what you deserved, my sweet boy. Our baby.....So perfect.

12 days. 12 perfect days with you was all we had. It seems so short now that I'm typing it out, but I felt like I knew you my whole life, baby. You were meant for us. 

Christmas Eve will never be the same for us. The day you started to get sick. Mommy knew something wasn't right. It still hurts my heart to think about it. The day after Christmas...the 26th, we found out our time with you was running short. I can't talk about it much because it stings, buddy. No mommy and daddy should ever have to see their baby like that. It seemed like the cruelest punishment. Pure torture. Finally, when things started looking really bad, the doctor and nurses let us hold you. Even though I knew you were sick and you wouldn't be with us much longer, I only felt relief when they put you in my arms. The relief of a mommy who just wanted to scoop her baby up and comfort him. I felt like that morning lasted for days. I like to think that was God's other gift to us, next to you of course... He made a few hours feel like an eternity so we had as much time with you as possible. How awesome is that?!

Would you have liked trucks and tractors? Or watching football with your daddy? Would you have run to the couch fresh out of the bath to read a book with mommy? Would you have fought me when I tried to put your shoes on because you liked bare feet much better? What would your silly giggle sound like as daddy chased you around the house to tickle you? We had plans for you, buddy. It's hard. I thought we had more time. I will forever wonder what you would have looked like as a 3 year old and then as a teenager. What kind of person you would have been? I do know one thing... You had a purpose in this life, Hill. Your life matters. YOU matter. You have changed me and your daddy in more ways than we can count. I am a better person because of you. I will be a better mommy one day because of you, Bubs. But I did not want you to have to die for that cause. My world is brighter because I met you and darker because I lost you. 

The good news is there will be no more goodbyes. The next time we see each other will be forever, Punky. How sweet does that sound? My goal is to live a life that gets me back to you one day. I look forward to the day when I feel no more pain and I see your sweet face again. I'm confident that I will know it's you the moment I see you and that we will have an eternity together in heaven. That is what gets me through the days, Hill. Believing that I will see you and get to kiss your nose again.

 I try not to be too sad for you because I don't like to see my mommy sad and I know you don't either, but it's hard. I know you see me cry in bed at night when I realize I am another day farther from you and in the morning when I realize it's another day without you. I am different now, Bubs. This life no longer has the same meaning as it once did. Some things that were once important to me no longer are and my whole life revolves around you, now....as it should. I can't help but feel so much guilt, but I know I can't live like that. Would things have been different had I gone to the hospital sooner? What if I hadn't gotten up so much? Was I not going to be a good mommy so God changed his mind? I pray it doesn't work like that, Punky, but I will always wonder. 

 Do you know the depth of my love for you? It's intense and beautiful and just what it should be. I worry, buddy. Did I tell you I loved you enough that day you were so sick? How proud I was of you and that you did a good job as I held you for the last time on this earth? I tried to tell you so many times, pumpkin. Enough for a lifetime that I knew we would never get together.  My prayer is that you know our love for you.... That you know you are our one true accomplishment in this life and that we are proud of you beyond belief. I pray whenever someone is frustrated with their child, they think of you, buddy. That they recognize how lucky they are and that they think of all the things we have to miss out on without you. 

Don't grow up too quickly up there, buddy. Mommy can't wait to scoop you up and play all day long. Forever our perfect, 2lb 14 oz baby boy. Forever young and beautiful. How blessed we are to have known you, Hillton. You are our greatest gift in this life. You are our high note....and we want you to know that you are enough for us, baby. If we never get to do this again, you're still enough. That will never change. Our love for you is endless. To my perfect, first born, blonde baby boy....I love you. 

Love,

Mommy