This may seem like an odd letter to write, but write it I feel I must. You never being able to read it seems to matter very little. The words just need to be said
We’ve never had a chance to meet, on account of you never having been born at all, but I am Jess, and I would have been your mother.
I feel like I should introduce myself, cause unlike your brother and your sisters, you will never get the chance to meet me. (Nor I you….)
You will never get to learn to recognise my voice. You’ll never feel what it’s like to grow inside my womb. Never enter the world to see a crazy dishevelled woman who will instantly forget the agony of the past hours, just to fall in love with you.
I guess I am a stranger really; someone you will never know, but someone who has thought of you, so many times it would be impossible to count. I guess I’m hoping that makes me more than just a random person. I’m hoping that gives me worth.
Your dad, who you will also never meet, is Boatman. He does have a real name of course, but his love for fishing and boats is one of the first things you would have learned about him. That and his love for God.
You have three sisters and a brother. As well as a dog, a cat and a love bird that pleasures himself incessantly on a bird toy. Not that you will get what that means at all, because you are a baby.
A perfect, innocent, beautiful baby.
It’s not that we never wanted to meet you; of course we did. Sometimes the thought of you, or more the dream of you makes my arms ache a little. I wonder who you could have been, and what you would have done.
I imagine all the ways the world would have been so much a better place with you in it
But the fact is, as much as I love you, I guess it’s not enough. Not enough to actually see you take form, and grow. To see you birthed into this crazy, messed up, wonderfully beautiful world the rest of us live in.
Because you being here, it would mean a great deal of change.
A little less time with the others.
A little less money for our family.
A little more weight on my hips.
And a little less sanity for us all.
And whilst that may not be the best excuse to never meet you, a line has to be drawn somewhere.
And sadly, my little babies, you are the line.
It’s not all bad little ones. Cause whilst you will miss so much good, you will also miss out on all the pain. There can be a lot of pain in life.
Like Ava, learning that sometimes daddy needs to go out right away, and not give her cuddles, which is a very sad thing.
Or BJ having his toes run over just now by Taylah’s ripstik.
Bridie being told to clean her room which she hates, and no doubt you would have too.
Or Taylah learning to do the dishes properly. Again and again and again.
Or even being a mummy one day, and realising that your family is complete and that’s ok, despite being uncomfortably confronting.
Leaving daddies,sore toes, messy rooms, confrontational feelings; these are pains I’m glad you never have to feel.
But little one, there is more,and I struggle to find the right words to say it.
You are perfect; no doubt.
And loved, completely though imperfectly.
But there is more to our lives than you; there is a job that needs to be done, and a mission that needs to be lived, and people who need us to help them. And time cannot just be spent making baby after baby after baby. No matter how delicious that sounds.
There are far more important things; far more necessary things, and because of that, mummy and daddy choose those things.
Not an easy decision but a right one. Because no matter how harsh and terrible it seems, I know that it’s actually ok.
These words will not hurt you, because they will never be read by you.
Because you, my dear little dream babies, will never exist.
And so with this, I bid you farewell.
I say good-bye to the dreams and the secret little desires and bury them deep within the sand. Under the line that we drew. The line that was you.
And although I may possibly visit this grave from time to time, it will never be to place flowers or to dream this dream again. But rather just to remember that in this moment, at this time, I chose the present as my future. And looked forwards, into new dreams.
Dreams where these is no room for you.
And I think, because you’re my babies, and you would have understood my heart, you will know that this is ok. This is better. Because this what we have been given.
And we were never given you.
With all my heart,