One of many letters to Norah

(Right now I am writing in a journal for Norah. I have been writing in it a couple of times a week and it has been very healing. This morning I knew I needed to write in it)
My dear Norah,

It has been 4 weeks, one month, since we lost you. Oh Norah, I miss you so dearly. Today the sun is shining, the birds are chirping and spring is here. But my child, who was due on May 17th, is not here. My little one, who was going to bring much joy to my life, is gone. My spring bundle is no longer here and I feel so incredibly sad about it. This last month has been a blur. My heart aches and sinks at the thought of you coming and then never arriving. The disappointment I feel is consuming, unable to be absorbed in one sitting. I love you very deeply Norah. Mommy misses you deeply and loves you. I love you. I so deeply wish I could have gotten to know your little personality my child. I wish I would've gotten to know your quirks and all of you, my beautiful red-haired one (Norah was born with fair skin and red hair; she was beautiful!). I love you deeply and passionately. Child, if I could just pick you up and hold you in my arms, I would. I would hug and squeeze your warm body in my arms. To be with you would be a slice of heaven today Norah. Mommy loves you. You are pure and perfect, my consecrated one. I will always love you, forever. You are always known and considered as my first born.

Letting go of a dead child is a heartbreaking reality. I must let go in order to fully receive life. It doesn't mean I let go of your memory. I will never let go of that. It means I let go of the pain and the heartache as it surfaces. The grief is too much to carry on my life journey and it would weigh me down. I love you and I miss you Norah. I do, but mommy's arms are tired of holding something that is no longer here.

(And then here is a poem/writing I wrote):
I let go of my child
She died and my arms are empty
but also full
full of dreams, hopes,
disappointments, fear, discouragement,
heartache, death
I let go in order to receive
Life
Hope
Dreams
That are new
I want to hang on to that breath
that wasn't breathed
I want your memory
that was never here
My experience cannot be defined
by what happened to you
I let go of death
But why couldn't you be full of life
here
with me
Instead I live with the shadow of you
But my arms are tired and weak
So I let go

Love,
Mom