Losing you was the most painful experience of my life. To know that you were there, you were created, my son or daughter, my first child, and I spent nights talking to you and telling you how much I love you, how much I needed you, and how you just had to hold on that little bit longer, and then maybe it would have been ok.

How are you, up there? Are you safe? Are you happy? Are you loved? Are you ok?

I know that some people will tell me that heaven doesn’t exist, but I have to believe that it’s real because I have this plan to meet you one day- to cuddle with you, play with you, love you. I’ve got years of missing you and wondering who you were, were you a boy? Were you a girl? Did you have brown hair? Who would you become? And what would we call you?

Losing you was the most painful experience of my life. To know that you were there, you were created, my son or daughter, my first child, and I spent nights talking to you and telling you how much I love you, how much I needed you, and how you just had to hold on that little bit longer, and then maybe it would have been ok.

But you couldn’t stay. It was abundantly clear that you were destined for heaven, and I was left in the pain, in the grief, with empty arms open wide, and some pieces of clothing I bought when I saw my test turn positive.

I remember sitting on the floor of my bathroom, bleeding, crying, cramping, and alone. My husband had to work through it, I was on leave. And I remember talking to the sky, telling you that I was sorry-sorry that my body failed us, sorry that I couldn’t try enough, that I would have done anything I could to make you stay, but it wasn’t enough. You left, hopefully to a wonderful place, whilst I stayed here, silent, empty, lost.

I couldn’t measure how much I loved you. I tried for 12 months just to get that positive test, and how beautiful that was. You were here, you were made, my son or daughter, my beautiful baby.

I never got to meet you. I never got to hold you. But I know when my time is up, my mothering of you begins. I can’t wait to throw my arms around you and tell you how proud I am to be your mum. And I want to know every single detail of who you are. We’ve got a long time to wait, I have to look after your brothers for another 50 or so years. But after that, our time can begin, and how wonderful that will be! I love you, my first child, you are in my heart every single day, and I will never, ever, forget you.

Love from your mum xox

Letter written by Melissa Graham. You can follow Melissa on Instagram via: @mum_with_sacral_pacemaker