My Precious Angel,

I am so sorry, still. As the tenth anniversary nears, I find myself consumed with thoughts of you. Not a day goes by that you don't come to mind, but recently you seem to be overwhelming all other thoughts, until you are all that is there. Just me and the child that I killed. I am so sorry. You would be nine years old now. Blayne's age. Strange that the cousin closest to you in age is the one who looks so very much like he could be mine. My heart aches when I think of what you might have looked like. Would you have my laugh, my smile, my bad attitude. Would you sing, so sweetly that my heart melts at the sound of your voice. Would you be a story teller, a drama queen, an intellectual. Would you love me the way that I love you. Do you love me now, despite what I did to you. I'm so sorry. I can't count how many times I've gone back to that day. The scenarios I have thought up on how I could have changed that day. What I could have done to save you. I could have just walked out of the clinic. I could have told your father to go screw himself. I could have told him that my keeping his life from being ruined, was in turn ruining both yours and mine. I could have saved you. I could have let you live. I am so sorry that I didn't. I so wish that I could go back, I wish that I could change it. I wish that you were here sitting next to me, fighting about bedtime instead of in Heaven wondering why your mother killed you. You would have started fourth grade this year. I think you would have loved school, I guess most kids do at this age. I know I did. There are so many things I wonder about you. None of it makes a difference, but I wonder it none-the-less. I know I failed you, I know. I wish there were a way for me to make it right. I hope that you forgive me. I don't, but I hope you do. I so wanted you. You were wanted. You are loved. It was my fault, I won't make excuses, I chose. I just didn't know how to choose another way. I could have, I know, I just didn't know how. I hate that you were tossed into a plastic bag labeled 'biohazard' and thrown out like yesterdays garbage. You were not trash to me. You are still, ten years later, the center of my heart. I have thought of names for you but didn't ever feel like I could give you one. I guess it made you too real. Most people would say I have no right to grieve the loss of you. I would probably even say that. Yet, I can't stop grieving. I can't stop missing you. I can't stop hating myself for taking your life. I can't forgive myself for murdering my sweet baby. I doubt I ever will. I guess I just wanted to say how sorry I am, so very sorry. Tell your sister, or brother, how very much I love and miss her, too. My hope is that despite all the evil that defines me, all the worthlessness, despite how very much I failed, that God will take pity and let me see you both and hold you in my arms one day. You are forever in my heart.

Mommy