To Elias, with Love.

Wherever you are now, baby. I'm thinking of you and sending you love. And I just want to say that I'm so so sorry that I couldn't give you the life that you deserve. I still don't know what went wrong, but I promise that I will find out. What happened to you wasn't fair and I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you from it. Next time, for any brothers or sisters of yours that may come, I promise that I will do better. I will find a better doctor. I will make them test and look at everything, and I will make them lose sleep at night until they fix my problem, and if they let me down, I'm going to make them wish they'd never gotten a medical license.

I had gotten out all the baby clothes for you, and had cleaned the crib for your arrival. We were so excited and were just waiting for the day that we could see you for the first time (ultrasounds don't count). I was planning on kissing your little feet, singing to you, and carrying you everywhere I went. I was going to put a baby swing in the kitchen so you could be with me while I cook. You and Salam would have been so close. Two peas in a pod, both of you unique. I was going to get a room ready for the both of you. I was going to hand-make you a baby quilt with owls on it. I was going to pain the ceiling of your room with clouds, moons, and stars, so that as you went to sleep every night, you would know how much I love you.

I'm so sorry this didn't happen. You were so strong, and you fought so hard to come. Wherever you are, please find your older brother Pasha. Tell him we love him too. Tell him that it's ok he didn't make it either, and that it's not his fault. I love you both and I'll see you someday. Your grandpa is up there. He has lots of stories and jokes to tell you in the meantime. I'll never forget you, and when I die, I promise I'll find you.

Love,

Mommy