Dear Isabela | Finally answering, "Yes!" to the question, "Do you have any kids?"

Our daughter, Isabela Rose, was born and died on May 2nd, 2020. I went into preterm labor at 21 weeks and 5 days after a failed emergency cerclage procedure and developing an infection. I had to deliver my perfect baby girl before her body was ready to enter this world, but she was a fighter. She lived for 1 hour and 45 minutes in our arms, and her Daddy and I loved her the best we could during that time. I started writing letters to her the day after she was born, to help me process our immense loss and grief. 

"I lost my heart to you, little one, forever, for always, it's yours." 

-Zoe Clark Coates

June 8th, 2020

Isabela, 

Mommy got a haircut today. Not important in the grand scheme of things, but pulling up to the salon for my appointment brought me back to a painful, beautiful memory: the first time I ever said "yes" to the age-old question, "do you have any kids?" 

I remember it like it was yesterday. The hairstylist and I were discussing our Valentine's Day plans while she washed my hair. Just like Daddy and I, she & her husband don't normally celebrate together. Instead, they take their 2 kids out every year. They have a tradition of going to Build-a-Bear, the Cheesecake Factory, and then a movie night at home. I remember thinking how that sounded like the perfect Valentine's Day to me. I loved that idea. I remember promising to you, the little wiggle worm in my belly, that I would always try to make Valentine's Day special for you. Mommy was only 10 weeks pregnant at the time. We didn't even know if you were a boy or a girl yet!

When we got to the chair, we continued our small talk. She asked me the question I used to hate hearing the most: "So, do you have any kids?" At first, my gut response was going to be my usual robotic, "No, not yet, hopefully soon". You see, before we found out about you, Mommy and Daddy had been praying for you for 2 years. You were our little miracle, right when we thought we didn't have any left. So this time, when I heard her ask, "Do you have any kids?", I almost said, "no, not yet"- then I stopped myself, realizing you were in Mommy's belly, answered her with an excited, "Yes!" It was the first time I ever said that outloud- my heart swelled with happiness & my smile was ear-to-ear. I added, "Well, I will be, in September. I'm pregnant with our first baby!" We chatted & laughed all about pregnancy, newborn-hood, and mom life for the rest of my time there. I left the salon feeling beautiful, loving my new hairdo, and was completely fulfilled after talking all about you & our future as a family of 3. You, Mommy, and Daddy. I left so happy. 

Well today, Mommy went back to that same salon for a haircut. I desperately needed one, as usual. As soon as I parked the car in front of the salon, I thought about that beautiful, horrible memory. My heart squeezed in my chest and I started to cry. I realized that today, I wouldn't be talking about pregnancy, catching up with how I am feeling, and chatting all about how you are making Mom crazy with your kicks at the most inconvenient times. Today, I wouldn't be beaming with pride over the little bean growing in my belly. I wouldn't be sitting in the chair with my hands over my bump, smiling ear-to-ear as we had small talk over the baby shower plans and how the nursery was coming along. Today, leaving the salon was different. I didn't leave happy; I left feeling hollow. I couldn't stop thinking about Valentine's Day, 8 months too early, & missing out on starting the tradition of making it a special day for you. I left feeling like I'm missing out on so much. I left missing my baby, your future, all your firsts, your whole life. I left feeling like I am missing a part of me, & it's the worst feeling ever imaginable. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. And more than anything, I wish you were just here.

I know with time the grief of missing you will lessen, but at the moment it is all-consuming. It is embedded in every single daily moment, no matter how small, who I'm with, or what I'm doing. I miss you so much it physically hurts and I always will. I hope you are safe, happy, and loved in Heaven. Because down here on Earth, you are the most loved little girl. And by so many people! Just know that we love you so so so SO much- forever and ever, to Jupiter and back. 

Love, 

Mommy