Leo,

I can vividly remember saying goodbye to your cold grey body at the hospital.  I don’t know why that creeps into my mind, but when it does, I literally struggle to breathe.   My chest tightens and my breathing becomes labored.  I remember touching your ice cold arm and crying.  I told you that I wished I could make you warm again.  I would have, and still would today, give you anything to bring you back to me.  What we went through was so unnatural.  I should have never had to say goodbye to you.  You were my healthy baby boy, my perfect son, my little buddy…and now I have to live on without you.  Next week, you would have been 5 months old. 

I hate that I can remember your face when you passed away more vividly than I can remember you alive.  Will my life always be colored with sadness, even in good times?  I think it will, because, no matter what good things happen to me and my family, you aren’t here with me…and that makes me feel really sad. 

I dreamt that you were in my room last night, standing next to my bed.  Is it you that talks to me, or am I simply imagining it?  I miss you terribly.  I wish I knew when Jesus was going to come and take me home too.  I hope that I never ever have to go through another child loss, I am already terrified, horrified, depressed, and deeply traumatized by losing you.  I don’t think my heart could handle losing another piece of myself, another perfect child, another one of God’s gifts that was supposed to be mine to nurture and treasure. 

I love you son.

Always and Forever,

Mom