When I was 16 years old I became pregnant. Everything was going just great until I started having very bad pains in my back. At 20 weeks I was in labor. My water broke and there was no time to do much of anything.

My son Jemale lived for approximately 4 minutes after he was born. He was too young to save.( my hospital isn't equipped for such situations.

When I was 17 I found out I was pregnant again. At 16 weeks I went in for a routine check up and was horrified when my doctor couldn't find the baby's heartbeat. An ultrasound confirmed my worst fear my baby was dead. A D&C was preformed. My doctor then diagnosed me with an incompetent cervix.

When I found out I was pregnant again(18yrs.) I was so afraid to lose yet another precious miracle. This time my doctor was ready. At 14 weeks he put in a Mcdonald Cerclage and put me on bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy. At 32 weeks my daughter Sateva M. Gaston was born. Weighing 4lbs.3oz.and was17 inches long.

God must have felt that I wasn't ready to be a mother so young. And I now know that he was right. I thank God everyday for the 2 miracles he blessed me with even though my time with them was so short.

When I come to the question of "Was your child stillborn or miscarried, It's hard to answer that question. I know that "officially, stillbirth is classified as after 20 weeks gestation. My Mary was only 17 weeks, but she was in fact "born". Here is my story.

At the time I became pregnant I was 41 going on 42. I was delighted, as I tried to conceive for about 6 months. I went to my doctor very early in the pregnancy. I don't drink, smoke or consume nutrasweet or equal. I was very careful. I heard my daughter's heartbeat at 12 weeks and 16 weeks in the doctor's office. I felt her move inside me from the 14th. week onward.

At my 16 week visit, I had my 1st. hint that something was wrong. When the doctor scheduled me for my routine ultrasound, I heard the receptionist say the letters "sga". My ultrasound was scheduled for 6 days from that date. I was too afraid to ask what "sga" meant but I remembered it so I could look it up online at home. The doctor also sent me to the lab for the routine series of blood test. I would later find out 1 of the tests was an AFP.

Well, when I got home I looked up SGA and found out it meant, small for gestational age. The reasons were an insufficient placenta, abnormalities or just a small baby. I had a nagging feeling something really was wrong, but I wanted to think positive so I tried not to worry about it too much.

2 days later, I got a call from my doctor. He told me that my AFP came back very low, and that I had a 1 in 10 chance that my baby had Downs Syndrome. He advised me to get an amnio when I have my ultrasound. I refused the amnio. I didn't want to risk miscarriage, even if the baby did have Downs. He went along with my decision.

2 days before my ultrasound, I felt the biggest kick the baby had offered as yet. It gave me hope, and I expected the kicks would get stronger from there on in. They never did. I looked on the internet for information on Down Syndrome. I found a wonderful woman who has a little boy with Downs and she was very encouraging to me. I shared with her my anxiety over what I would find out at the ultrasound. An ultrasound should be 1 of the happiest times of a pregnancy, but this time, I was very nervous.

Monday, May 3 came and my husband, Gary and I went off the ultrasound appointment. Neither 1 of us said much. Our hearts were very heavy. The technician, Sandy, called us in. She was very cheerful and positive. She reassured me that many times, the AFP is not very accurate. She began my saying," There is the little one's head." and then she was silent. The silence was my enemy. I said, " Can you tell what sex the baby is?" She answered," This one is going to be tough to call." She asked, " How low was your AFP?" I told her I didn't know. Just that my chances of Downs were 1 in 10.

She said," The radiologist has gone home for the day. I need to go check something on the computer out front." Then she left the room. Gary and I looked at each other. I said," What's going on? Something must be wrong. The baby must have Downs."

1/2 hour later, Sandy returned with my doctor. Oh oh I thought. Something must really be wrong. I just said Hi Doctor. All the questions and hints he would try to give me ran in and out of my head but I wouldn't take the hint. I couldn't. He asked if I had been bleeding or cramping. "No" I answered. He went over to the ultrasound screen with Sandy. They spoke in whispers that I could not hear, even though they were right next to me. They had turned the screen away from me.

I wondered why The baby wasn't moving around on the screen. I heard them murmer something about a large cyst. Something else about the head looking good. I couldn't fathom what was going on, even the. Doctor went over to Gary and said," There is a large cyst on the back of baby's neck." I said," Well, that means Downs Syndrome." "Yes that's right." He replied. Then he said to me ," On an ultrasound, we can see a baby's heartbeat. There is no heartbeat. The baby is dead." Silence, horror, disbelieve, this can not be. Gary said, I thought you could feel the baby moving?" "I could, I did. We heard the heartbeat last Tuesday, didn't we?" "Yes we did. Death occurred today or yesterday. There is nothing you could have done. There is no way you could have known."

Sandy gave me a tissue. I held it, shaking, but no tears came. Doctor told me he wanted to do a labor induction. If we waited for labor to start on it's own, it could put my life in danger. He said many thing to me about the procedure which would be used, options I had for burial of my baby. I just could not take in anything he was saying. It was as if I had left this world, and was looking on from a distance. I was totally disassociated from the goings on.<./P>

Finally I answered," I want to think about this for a couple of days first." He agreed and made an appointment for me to go to his office on Thursday to discuss the birth of my child.

When they let me go to the bathroom, that's when I was able to cry. When I came out Sandy was there to say goodbye to us. She was crying too. I gave her a hug and thanked her for her kindness. I walked out of the hospital crying.

My 4 year old daughter Angela, was at my Mom's house. I had to go get her and tell my Mom what happened. I had to go home and tell my 3 sons what happened. After that, I went up to bed. I cried so much I didn't think I'd ever stop. Something else happened too. I could swear I could still feel my child moving. I begged God to make my child alive again. " Please give her back to me! Please make her alive again!"

Well, on Thursday, we were told that I would be admitted to the hospital on Saturday morning to have a labor induction. I was so afraid of what would happen. I was still hanging on to the idea of being pregnant, since my child was still with me.

Saturday came, and I cried when I got to the hospital. It was an awful, painful experience, physically, mentally and emotionally. The medication made me very ill. My temp was at 103 degrees by the time my little girl was born at 3:55 PM.

I was able to hold her, kiss her and baptize her. 2 of my sons and my Mom came up to see us too. Pictures were taken. The nurse was not able to get foot or hand prints because my daughter was so tiny. She was 5 1/2 inches long and weighed only 2 ozs. She was precious to me though.

She still is. I will never forget her. I never want to forget her. We had a burial service for her, lead by my priest. I stopped feeling the kicking inside me the day of the burial service. We have put a stone at her grave that says "She never saw the light of day, but now behold eternal light. There is a little cherubic looking little girl's face carved into the stone. It is good to go visit this last place were her physical being touched.

I still can not be were there is an infant. It is too painful for me, and I don't want to upset the other people around me with my reaction. I guess I'm afraid of what my reaction would be. I don't know when I'll be OK with that.

I think about my daughter, my Mary Elizabeth, every single day. I believe I always will. Her birthday is in 2 days. I don't know how I'll handle it. I feel that I do get a little stronger as time goes on. I do still have days that are difficult though.

Thank you for giving me a place to share my story.

My pregnancy was never easy from the beginning. I had morning sickness 24 hours a day almost everyday. I went to my OB/GYN for my normal checkup which also included some testing for spinal defects. The test came back slightly elevated so they wanted to see me and preform an ultrasound just as a precaution.

Both my boyfriend and I went into the ultrasound room and were completely stunned. I had lost all of my amniotic fluid. No one knew what to say to me. I had become a familiar face around the office due to all my nausea. They informed me that my baby had extremely little chance of survival but they did allow me to go home and try complete bed rest. We were also informed not to expect a heartbeat on my follow-up visit the next week.

That next week was the most horrible week of my life. I didn't know how to go home and wait for my baby to die. To this day I still don't know how I survived. At times I wanted to change my mind and go ahead with a D&C (which they had offered me) but I couldn't go through with it. However, what I didn't realize was that I was going to have to deliver this baby who was not going to be alive. I was informed the day before my follow up appt. that they would definately want me to deliver-it was a much safer route in regards to my reproductive health. I sat on the couch and cried until I couldn't cry anymore.

My baby was born at 5:55 a.m. on June 2, 2000. He was the most beautiful and precious gift that I had ever been given. I miss him so much that I can hardly stand it.

I actually have a hard time even believing that this has happened. A part of me feels like I went to sleep in January and woke up in June. The day after he was born I woke up with "empty arms", meaning that my arms physcially ached for him. I tried pulling pillows to my chest and of course I held onto my boyfriend but nothing could fill my arms.

It's been 5 weeks now and just when I think I can smile again this all comes back ten-fold. I'm trying to find ways to heal from this and am attending a group counseling session twice a month. If anyone has any advice or would like to share something with me, please feel free to email me anytime. I'll respond to you as soon as I can. Thansk.

I have 3 children ranging form the ages of 5 to 1 years of age. Both my husband and I are 24, and we were surprised to find out that I was pregnant in January of 2000. We were being so careful, but the good lord decided that he wanted us to watch over one of his children. I got impregnanted around January 29, 2000, so when we had the first ultasound done on March 6, 2000, it came as a shock when the tech told us that I was 9 weeks pregnant. "How could that be?" I asked myself. My husband asked the same exact question. I knew that the date she gave us was wrong, so I waited to see an OBGYN to confirm everything.

At my first appointment, everything went smoothly. I still had a feeling of uncertainty because this would be our fourth child, but we were beginning to be 100% happy about the pregnancy. I was so happy in fact that I chose a midwife to deliver my babies. She was so personal, and treated me as if we had been the best of friends forever, something that I had not found in a doctor before. She took me into the room to do an examination, and did an ultrasound to confirm the date that I told her. Everything looked great, but there was a shadow that we both saw in there. "What was it?" I asked. She saw it, too, and said that it looked like 2 babies were in there. We checked again, and saw only one baby. Oh boy...how wrong we were!!!!

In May, I finally was scheduled for my official ultrasound, and at first, I had to cancel 2 previous appointments. I am a manager of a store, so my schedule was in conflict with the appointments. I finally decided to go, and there in the room, the technician delivered the news saying, " Yeah, we have a girl...and another girl. You have 2 in there." I was panicked and she literally floored me. My two older children were there, and they were so happy. She said something about them both being in the same sac, but I paid no attention to that.

I immediately called my husband, who was flabbergasted, and then I went to see my midwife. There she told me that this was high risk pregnancy, and that I needed to see a specialist. She then went ahead to make the appointment, and I went home literally floating on cloud 9.

I saw the specialist that Thursday, and we did a detailed ultrasound. She measured everything form the Leg bone (Femur), the kidneys, to their head cicumfrences and so forth. These would be the best pictures that I ever had from an ultrasound. Eveything looked great. They both were growing well and proportionate to each other.

Finally the specialist came in and he laid out the cards on the table to me. I was 20 weeks and 4 days gestattion, and not out of any danger whatsoever. Actually, I was facing it and I didn't even know about it. Since they were in the same sac, there was a 50-50 chance that they would live, due to their chords being tangled up and the blood supply and so forth. I cried, but then I knew that I wasn't going to let this happen to us. I was going to end up on the good side of that statistic. This can't happen to me!!!! I went out of the office feeling good and confident. He said that he would see me in a month when I was 25 weeks because if anything was going wrong then, we could do an emergency C-section to get them out of there.

Speed up to 24 week 1 day gestation, on my day off, I felt as if something wasn't right with me. I was sleeping for most of the day, so I brushed it off. I didn't feel the babies move at all, but then since I was asleep. I thought that they were moving while I was asleep. The whole day passed, and not one single movement. I went to work the next day, and tried to see if my movement would spark my girls, but that didn't help. I finally called my midwife, and she told me to hurry to the specialist to get checked up. My best friend took me because my husband was at work about 45 miles away.

We went into the doctors office, and I waited patiently for the worst news that I would receive in my life. I laid in the seat for the tech to scan my tummy. She at first scanned my tummy, and quickly turned the monitor off. I asked if anything was wrong, but she said that she needed to set the machine up. The nurse came in, and they did it again. I asked if something was wrong, and with a sad and solomn face, they told me that we lost both of them. I started to cry hysterically. They comforted me, and I don't remember anything else except talking to my husband on the phone and yelling that we lost the girls. He said" Both of them." I said, "Yes, Kenny. I am so sorry!!" He was crying and yelling obscenities, I just kept on repeating I'm sorry, and I gave the nurse the phone because I couldn't think straight. The doctor came in, and comforted me, reassuring me that there was nothing that I could have done. That was important because I would have died if there was something that I could have done.

He called my doctor and told her that I wanted to go into labor. She said to admitt me and that the midwife would be there to be with me.

My best friend came into the room, and she knew when she looked at me. She just held me and comforted me. I am thankful to you, Denise, for being there with me.

We went into the L & D suite, and I felt as if I did not belong there. I was so scared of the fact that my girls would born stillborn, and I did not know what to expect. Since one was head down and the other was beeched, we decided that we would deliver vaginally. Denise stayed with me until Kenny could get there from work. My doctor came in and explained to me the game plan. She would be inserting Cytotech vaginally to get my labor started, and would continue every 4 hours until my waterbroke. She then told me that my widwife, Rhonda, would be there later to be with me.

Kenny and his cousins came to be with me, and Denise went home. I was so glad that he was there with me, but he made it clear that he did not want to stay during the delivery. He was scared and I understood.

My midwife came in, and she hugged me and cried, saying that these things shouln't happen to nice people like us. She then explained to me what was going to take place, and then she left. Another round of Cytotech, then I opted for the drugs. I am glad that I took them because it took me 18 hours to deliver.

Through the night, it was hard for me because I could hear the heart monitors going off in the other rooms. They were so nice and considerate in the ward that they put us in the room furthest away from everyone. Through the pain and contractions, I observed the monitor and noticed that it was different. There was no sound coming from the monitor which meant no heartrate. It just broke my heart, and then it really hit me.

My water finally broke shortly after the 3rd round of Cytotech. Rhonda said that I was 9 cm, and if I needed to push, to go ahead and do it. My day nurse, Denise(go figure?), was wonderful to me. She explained to me what was going on and offered comfort and support. I had the two best women with me when I needed them the most.

I pushed and pushed, and they finally came out..one after the other. I was too afraid to look, scared of what they may look like. Rhonda held them and said that they were beautiful and formed babies. She then told me that their chords had wrapped around their necks, and that was the cause of death.

After about an hour, Kenny and I requested that they be brought in to us...at his suggestion, which I am thankful that he did that. Rhonda brought them in to the room, and handed them over to Kenny. He looked at them longingly, and showed them to me. I did not wnat to hold them because I couldn't face the fact that they would not open their eyes or cry. Kenny took pictures of them, and held them some more. Rhonda took them away...that would be the last time that I would see my precious angels again.

The manger of the ward came in and gave her condolescences to us, and helped us to get in contact with a funeral home. Rhonda then came in and showed me the pictures of the girls, and at that moment I gave them their names: Kasey Taylor, 1 lb 11 1/4 oz, 12 inches long, and Kelsey Breanne, 1 lb. 7.4 oz, 12 1/2 inches long. They were so beautiful in those pictures. She then handed me two memory boxes that contained more pictures, their footprints, and the hat and shirt and blanket that they wore. I cried because I wanted them to come home with me.

At that moment,my family was calling and offered their support, wishing that they could be there. They are in Hawaii, and my mother, sister and uncles and aunts were crying because they wished they could be here with me during this dificult time.

It was finally time to leave, and I asked the nurses if my girls were still in the hospital, and they said that they were in the morgue. I cried because I felt guilty that I was leaving them behind there without their mommy.

The first night was hard, especially when my children asked me what happened to the babies. My daughter knows, but my second son thinks that they are " sleeping with Jesus". My youngest son still comes up to my belly and touching it.."Baby". It tears me up inside.

I am going back and forth between moods, crying at any moments notice. It is day 2, and I have come to terms with the saying "One day at a time". It isn't getting any easier, but not enough time has gone by. I will never get over this, and I don't want to. Maybe for now, this will be the way for me to be with them, so I won't forget them. That will be the hardest thing for me to face, when everyone will forget. I know that it will eventually happen, so I have to be prepared for that.

As soon as I came home, I got on the computer and started to hit the different websites that helps deal with this kind of loss. I just needed to read other peoples' stories, to reassure myself that I was not going through this alone. This has been godsent, and I have found solace through some of the stories that I have read.

It will be a long journey for us, and I am wanting to have another baby as soon as possible. Maybe it is something that I need to give more thought to, as far as the time frame goes, but I know that it is something that I want to happen. You know the phrase" It can't happen to me!", it takes on new meaning when the worst does happen to you. I now realize that it can haooen to me, just as well as any other person. Although it will, I pray that no one close to me or anyone that I associate will go through this terrible pain that I am now enduring.

I have a renewed faith in God, that things have a was happening, but it all falls into accordance to his plans for us. I can now testify that I have seen the face of an angel, and have been blessed with an angels presence. Now, I have two guardian angels watching over my family.

You have touched my life in your short existence on earth. During that time, those 24 weeks, I have loved you and had hopes and dreams for the two of you. It was not to be, and I can't tell you why, but the good lord has a plan for us and one day, I will come home to be with you. Till then, Granma will be with you two watching over you until I make the final trip home.

Until then, you will always be with me...your tiny footprints are embedded in my heart and will forever remain. You will be my shining moment, my wish-upon-a-star, my last thought of the day, my north star to guide me, one of the loves of my life, and one of the reasons for my life here on earth. A part of me will be forever missing, so you both keep that part with you until you can give it to me when are together again. I love you girls so much...You are my two guardian angels.

Thank you so much for letting me share this story with you. It has truly helped me to come to terms with my loss. Also, thanks for letting me introduce to the world my two angels, whom I love and miss teribly.

I fell pregnant in October 1999 and both myself and my partner, Ian were so excited. I went along to my first ultrasound at 16 weeks with Ian. This was my first pregnancy and Ian came with. The lady doing the ultrasound asked how I was for taking shocks and then she told us that we had two little babies in there. We could not believe it. Twins did not run in either family so this came as a huge surprise for us.

I told everybody who would listen that we were having twins, and I carried my ultrasound photos around with me everywhere. I would ride the bus home from work and just get my photos out and look at my babies.

At 23 weeks I remember sitting at work and having stomach pains. I wasn't too worried but I went to the Doctor anyway. He sent me to the hospital to be checked and they gave me a heartbeat scan. They found the two babies heartbeats and told me everything was OK. I was so relieved.

I had to stay in a couple of days, and over this time the pains got steadily worse. One lunchtime I was in so much pain, a doctor examined me and then everything went crazy. He was shouting down the corridor for people to wheel me round to labour ward as I was 6 centimetres dilated and having contractions very close. They put a drip on me to stop labour and gave me steroid injections to boost the babies lungs in case they were coming out early. The drip stopped the labour for 26 hours but the Doctors said I had picked up an infection so I was to come off the drip and let my body go back into labour.

My body refused to, and I was secretly pleased, because I thought this would buy my babies some more time inside me. I was so so scared for my babies. I prayed and prayed that they would be OK.

After a while, the Doctors decided to induce me as they thought the infection could be damaging the placenta and the babies blood supply. After 9 horrendously painful hours, Baby Luke came into the world. He weighed 1lb 9oz and was perfect in every way. He cried when he came out and kicked his little legs about so me and Ian thought he would survive. They picked him up and put him on a machine but I didn't see too much as 4 minutes later, his identical brother, Baby Ian came out. He weighed 1lb 3oz and didn't cry but we could see him breathing. He was also taken from me to be put on a machine but after about 3 minutes, both my babies were handed back to to hold and cuddle as the Doctors said their tiny lungs weren't developed enough for them to survive.

Baby Luke lived for 45 minutes, Baby Ian for an hour, and throughout that short time, we held them, and kissed them and told them we loved them. A piece of my heart went with my babies when they left us and the pain and heartache I felt and still do at the loss of my babies is something I never thought I would experience in this lifetime.

I miss my babies so much. I cry for them every day, but I will always always treasure the amount of time me and their Daddy spent with them. The wonderful midwifes who looked after me bathed and dressed my babies and they were surrounded by so much love in the short time they lived. My parents came to the hospital at midnight to see their beautiful grandchildren.

I just want to say to my babies...

Dear Luke and Ian, you were wanted and loved more than you will ever know. I know you heard me and Daddy say we loved you and even though it broke our hearts when you left, I know we will see you again one day and I will be able to rock you in my arms for all eternity. Until that special day, please rest in peace my beautiful angels and know you will never be forgotten.

I was 21 weeks preg. and lost my baby girl. I got sick with a severe infection and had to deliver my baby girl. They have no explaination as to why I got sick, just that it doesn't happen very often.

We had Ashley's funeral Sat. Aug. 26th. I miss her so much, I miss feeling her move inside of me. Why did this happen?

I have a 6 yr old girl and thank God for her everyday. She was looking so forward to being a big sister. Today is my first day home alone, I'm trying to be strong but find it difficult. I spent the morning at Ashley's grave searching for answers, searching for her. Will I ever make it through this. Thank you for listening.

We had been married a little over a year when we decided that it was time to have a baby. We were ecstatic when we discovered that we were going to have a little child of our own. The pregnancy was uneventful, even quite pleasant and easy at times.

At 20 weeks I began to experience a slight leaking that went on for a day or two. This being my first preganancy, I was not sure if this was something that happened to everyone, or if ir was cause for alarm.

The second day that I was back at work (I'm a teacher) the sensation esacalated to the point where I knew that it was not normal. I contacted the doctor, and she told me to get to labor and delivery ASAP. The diagnosis was not good; for whatever reason my membranes had ruptured. The outlook was grim at first, but with the ultrasound th next day, our hopes were heightened with the news that there was still amniotic fluid surrounding the baby and that the baby was capable of producing more to sustain itself.

I was put on strict bedrest, with the hope that I could carry the baby another tow months and deliver with a 80% chance of a normal child. My vitals were checked every four hours, and each time the baby's heart tones were taken, I held my breath. Friday and Saturday found a healthy baby with a strong heartbeat. Yet that was about to change.

Sometime between 12 and 4 on Sunday afternoon, my beautiful, long-awaited baby boy died. I felt like to rug was pulled out from under me. How could this be? I had done everything correctly. It was and is not fair.

The worst was yet to come. I had to go through a normal birth, without the benefit of pre-natal classes, and with the knowledge that I would not be taking home the child that I would work so hard to bring into the world. My family, especially my husband, was so supportive and caring. This helped to lessen the fear and pain.

After just 9 hours of labor, I delivered a perfect little boy. We had not known the sex prior to this, and the look on my husband's face when told that he had a son was one I will never forget. It was such a pained look--the little boy that he had wanted so badly was not meant to be.

The hospital staff was wonderful. We were given time to hold Gage and be with him, and our family had the opportunity to do the same. It was the best thing that I could have done in those circumstances. I would feel more lost today if I had not taken advantage of that opportunity.

We chose to have funeral for Gage, and this too was the right decision. We invited friends and family and had him baptized and blessed. He was buried in a blanket that I had bought when I first found out I was pregnant, in a tiny blue casket. We buried him in a peaceful section of the cemetary secluded in the back. I get such a sense of peace when I go to visit him. I take comfort in the idea that I have a place to go to be with him at any time. I feel sorry for people who are not given this vital opportunity. I have found that this is essential in my healing process.

I have put together a memory box of everything that reminds me of Gage---sympathy cards, his baptismal candle, my preganancy tests, his obituary, flowers, pictures, etc. This helps trememdously.

The other phenomenally helpful thing that I have found is writing. I keep a journal in which I write letters to Gage and talk to him on paper when I go visit him at the cemetary. Some days are tolerable, and others are unbearable, but I know that I need to go on. My son wouldn't want it any other way.

We plan to have another baby, and hope that the experience will be a good one. Regardless of how many children we are blessed with, we will never forget the precious angel who was our first child. I enjoyed every moment that I had with him, no matter how brief they were. I wouldn't have changed a thing about him and the love that I have for him transcends the limits of our physical existence.

My little Sarah, I think of you and miss you every day of my life. Losing you has been unbearably painful. Did you get the message I sent on your birthday last year, you know, the one on the pink balloon? I hope you did. I hope that you are safe and warm and happy, and that you know how much I will always love you.

Please don't hate your daddy for ignoring your short life, as well as the news of your death. He dosen't mean to be so cruel. I know he has a heart somwhere. He was very young, like me, when we learned of your existence in August of 1998, and he just couldn't cope.

He would have felt differently, if he could have seen just how beautiful you were, when you arrived on January 12, 1999, at the age of 29 weeks. Even though you had passed on the day before, you were perfect. The massive, freak infection that took your life had not taken your beauty. I wish he could have seen you Sarah. You had a tiny bit of red hair, and beautiful blue-gray eyes. The nurse remarked that you had lovely hands, and that they looked just like mine. Your father gave you his eyes, his nose, and his big feet, which were adorable on your tiny, yet lanky frame. I believe you would have been tall, had you lived to grow up. No mother could ask for a more perfect little girl, except to ask that you be alive. I held you for a long time, little one, and tried to tell you hello and goodbye at the same time, which was all but impossible. Your grandma and grandpa held you too, and I believe that they were nearly as distraught as I was over your death. You were big for a baby your age, weighing 2 1/2 pounds, and being nearly 16 inches long. Wow Sarah! A full term baby is only 22 inches long, and you still had 11 weeks to go. I remember your features in a permanent picture in my mind. You had the tiniest blonde eyelashes, and little finger and toenails on your petite digits. I wanted you so much, Sarah.

I had wanted a little girl for as long as I could remember. I knew you were a girl form the moment I knew I was pregnant. I agonized over the decision to have you. I was only 18 when you were conceived, and was just two weeks shy of my 19th birthday when you were born. I do not regret my decision to have you.

I feel that I now understand what love and loss really mean. I thought my life was over when your daddy left me, for I was then, and continue to be now,devastated by his departure. But losing you was infinitely worse. I miss you little one. Please take care. I promise to join you someday, wherever you are. Please watch over your daddy for me; I worry about him. I love you little Sarah.

Oct of 2000 I miscarried our second child at just only 3 weeks into my pregnancy. You find out very early when you are pregnant with assisted procedures. We will be going back to try again in mid February. I hope everything works out for us and everyone else who long for a child they so desperatly want. Much love and hugs paula