With both my pregnancies I prayed to the "powers that be" to let my child live if anything should have to go wrong with my pregnancy. I figure that I've lived this long without really feeling like I'm part of this world so it would be better for me to die and give my babies a chance at a life that is full. Yeah, I know things don't work this way... I know I have no control over these things ... how could I, my second child died inside me a few weeks before he was due and I couldn't do a thing to stop it. He wasn't sick. I wasn't sick. One day he was fine and kicking and the next day his lifeline detached from the placenta and he died. The doctors have no idea why this happened. Of course, I have my own dark, paranoid theories as to why this happened but I'm told that my thoughts are not logical or possible. Would these theories of mine be more logical if I was religious? In Sunday School I was taught that if you weren't a good person you would not be rewarded by Him. You might even be punished. Am I being punished ... because I'm still here?... because I wasn't supposed to be here past the age of thirty (I always believed I would never live to see thirty because the pain of depression was so unbearable)?
I know what I wrote won't make sense. Most of the time my life doesn't make sense to me. I've waded through my confusion for forty years and it gets more difficult with time and life experiences.
Baby boy, I wanted ... and still want you SO much. I'm sorry if anything I did or didn't do took away your life. Please know that I love you and miss you.