I Love You Now & Forever

Written by: Yvette

Little girl you left so soon. I wept so hard and so long but my tears would not return you. You were both my blessing and my agony. I knew not how I would ever go on. But relentless, time refused to stop and sit by me on the floor while I cried. It forced me up and onward. Forward through so many more losses. Agony blurring into agony. I clung to you then as though you were my promise. Your loss had not killed me. It would make me stronger… and deliver me a living baby. And then it came. The most beautiful sound on earth. The cry of a newborn child. My child. Healthy and strong. My heart broke open that day for the agony I had suffered, and was instantly filled with the joy this new child brought. She is my blessing and my agony. A constant reminder of all I have and all I have lost. Never a day creeps by when I don’t look at her and think of you. Not a day when I do not gaze into her eyes and wonder whether you gazed into them before me. Not a day when I do not think you whispered in this little soul’s ear and asked her to go to go to me, to ease my pain and help mend my shattered heart. Not a day when I do not thank you for that act of love. One day many years from now you will come to me and slip your tiny hand in mine and gaze into my eyes and say “Mummy, it’s time to come home now.” Until then my darling, you live in my heart. I love you now and forever my darling… Annabelle.

Stillbirthday invites you to learn about our Love Letters collection and to share yours with us.

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BIRTH & BEREAVEMENT QUOTES

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She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum.

— Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

— C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

I am strong.

— January, founder of Birth Without Fear

When someone you love dies, and you’re not expecting it, you don’t lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time—the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes—when there’s a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she’s gone, forever—there comes another day, and another specifically missing part.

— John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany

They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite.

— Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

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