One year ago my life was vastly different. We were a little family with a gregarious 18 month old heading to Florida to stand up for my best friend as she got married. I was waiting for you.
Exactly one year ago my life started to change in ways I would not, and still don’t, completely understand. It was today, the very day you were conceived, that your misspelling took place. The anniversary is bittersweet. I wanted another baby with all of my being. After having Asher I knew I was meant to be a mom, that it was my calling. I had never felt so in my element as I did when I became a mommy to that little boy. I wanted that again for me, and for your brother to have a sibling. I wanted you.
I wish I could go back to that day and run a spell check on your genes. To be able to ensure that you would never have this sort of start to life. You don’t deserve to live in the hospital being poked, prodded and looked at like a specimen. You should’t have to be put back together differently to be a normal little boy and to sleep in the comfort of your own crib.
I am so sorry dear Finn. I’m your mommy and I am supposed to make it all better. I can’t.
One year ago you started growing inside me and I wouldn’t change that for the world. I only wish my heart would fit inside of your chest because it already belongs to you.