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Sweet baby of mine: Today we found out that you are no longer with us. You have already gone heavenward and we will not get the opportunity to  meet you in a few months. I want you to know that you are truly loved; that the moment we found out you were ours, the moment we saw two pink lines to confirm your existence, our lives changed. We diligently got to dreaming of you and how we will accommodate you into our family and into our world

You were to be born early 2020, roughly around the time of your daddy’s birthday. I had planned to have a weekend away with him but seeing you would be arriving we thought we would move that forward so we could be ready for you. Now, every time I think about planning that birthday, I think of you; how I wish your arrival was still weighing into our plans. This Christmas I was supposed to have a baby bump; believe it or not, I had noticed a few things I thought I would buy you for Christmas. You see, you consumed my thoughts, sweet one.

Sweet baby of mine: Your sister was so very excited to know you existed and were growing in my tummy. She was very much hoping you were a girl. Oh, how she would have loved you. Oh, how she would have been such a wonderful big sister to you. The loss of seeing her enjoy you is a deep part of my grief. I’m not sure how I will find the words to explain this to her.

Your two brothers were not quite as excited about you as they were a little too young to understand. Your eldest brother is truly the sweetest little boy and would have been so sensitive to your needs. He was a baby himself when his brother was born. But I think having you would have drawn out a whole new level of love in him that I was very much looking forward to; this is also a deep part of my grief.

Your youngest brother would no doubt have disliked not being the baby anymore; nevertheless, he would have relished having a sibling to boss around. Bringing you into our family and seeing the joy you would bring to your siblings was something I dreamt about each day.

Your daddy and I started thinking about names for you. Your daddy had a particular favourite in mind if you were a girl. The name will always feel painful now. We had started discussing where in the house we would set up your bed; we also wondered if we would need to renovate to better accommodate our growing family. These ideas, once exciting, will now be sad. We’ll always be reminded that we no longer need to think about the changes, since you are no longer going to be with us.

Your daddy had also started researching bigger cars so we could be ready to bring you home. Now, our existing car seems too small, but the thought of buying a new car is sad, knowing we won’t be bringing you home in it. There is no joy there.

Sweet baby of mine: Oh, how sad I am. Sad not to share my world with you. We had started to talk to people about you, sharing the joy with those close to us. The thought of telling people that you are no longer here is gut-wrenching. I’m not sure I’m ready to do it but I need to: I can’t act normally, and I need to be able to explain why. I have lost something precious to me.

Sweet baby of mine: You are still in my body right now, and even though I know you are gone, I still don’t want to lose you. I wait for my body to birth you but not with the eager anticipation I had originally dreamed of. I feel like keeping you inside of me means you aren’t yet gone. My days of carrying you, holding you, feeling you are apart of me are almost over…and now I wait.

Sweet baby of mine: I am sorry that people won’t celebrate your life as we had hoped. So many people didn’t know you existed. So many people didn’t yet know the joy you had brought us. The hopes we had for you. I don’t want your existence to be hidden from the world. I want people to know you were here. I want people to know that you were loved and already an accepted part of our family.

Your due date will come and go, friends and family will celebrate bringing new babies into the world, sonogram pictures will come up regularly in my feed of other people’s babies and while I am happy for the Joy others are being blessed with, I will think of you and that will also make me sad.

Sweet baby of mine: I am comforted by the knowledge that you are in heaven with your other siblings, all of whom I wish were here.

I never met you, yet, I desperately miss you already!

You will not be forgotten.

Love…Your Mum! xxx


In honour of my own babies lost I created a Forever Loved Wall.

If you have lost a baby, or know of others who have I would be honoured to include them alongside my own. Honouring the time we carried them, loved them and to validate that they were here.

Click here for our Forever Loved Wall.

Click here for further resources and support should you find that would be helpful on your own journey.

Click here for other testimony around miscarriage


Rachel xxx


Author Rachel

I am Mum to 3 little ones, aged 6,3 and almost 1, Wife to my high school crush, Midwife at our local hospital and Creator of 'Out of the Nest'. I hope more than anything to do all these things well and maybe empower and encourage others along the way. Though its quite the juggling act, and balls do drop ALOT, so I am happy to talk about that too. xx

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