You had spent less than 3 months in this world but already I loved you. Your dad loved you.
We never got to hold you or kiss you, but you’ll always be in our hearts. And now you’re with God, safer and happier than we could have kept you here.
That doesn’t mean we won’t miss you. So far, I can hardly spend minutes without thinking of you.
It also doesn’t mean I don’t keep going through in my head all the things we won’t get to do with you. It’s going to be hard to let all of that go and come to peace with that I won’t get to know my first child in this life.
I write this with a heavier heart than I have ever known, but we were blessed with a lot of consolations from God during the whole event. We were reassured in prayer that you were with God and that we had done all we could for you.
You were too young to for us to be able to tell on an ultrasound if you were a boy or a girl. But we believe God revealed to us that you were a girl. So we gave you a name: Helen Kateri Dugan.
A miscarriage means a lot of sadness, but at least it means that we’ll get to see you in heaven someday.
I’ll love you forever, my little one!