This is just the beginning

Dear Zoey,

December 18, 2009. The first time I saw you (I mean, other than on monitors and print-outs) you were the silence among the chaos. Strangers were drifting in and out of our room; who they were or what they were doing wasn't a concern to me. A doctor, a nurse, and my mother were repetitive in their 'pushing' encouragements. My eyes were closed, the veins in my head bearing down with such force as to threaten rupture, gasping for breath every ten seconds...1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9...(gasp).

My mother's calming voice, "...open your eyes." And there was our silence. You made no sounds and my world stopped for a moment.

Boy, you were a bloody mess. Within a few beats and a wipe of the doctor's towel on your face, you made yourself known. Screaming. Partially wrapped in a blanket on my stomach and naked for the first time, you told my ears exactly how you felt. But...you opened your eyes. Once. Twice. Again and again. I kept trying to tell you 'hello' but I'm not sure you could hear me.

I'll remember that day forever. I had to let you go.

Last night I got into bed, rolled over on my stomach and sighed with relief from the absence of that small pain in my back. And then I started to cry. Countless, countless nights over the course of previous months I spent craving to roll onto my stomach. And, dammit, you were always in my way. Last night you weren't there. You haven't been there for 6 weeks. It kills me. It just kills me now. I miss you every second of everyday.

It had been many years before we met that I decided what was best for you. I thoroughly believed that you were a person, deserving a chance to live and breathe, to think, to feel, to love and be loved, and make decisions of your own. You deserve the best of everything, Zoey. I'll admit I procrastinated before seeking out your mom and dad. I procrastinate everything. That plan seems to work for me 90% of the time. Although, looking back -- if I had been prepared, if I had not spent 7.5 years in college continually changing majors and universities, I could have kept you. I was 24 in 2009.

24.

That's my own fault, baby. I hope you can forgive me.

I love you.