Stories of Lost Children
My Sweet Wésà T’
by L.R., Pawnee, OK, U.S.A.
You wasn’t conceived in most ways another babies were. You was conceived through a hateful act but that never stopped me from loving you. I fought so hard to love you and I did love you, I will always love you. I remember when I first laid my eyes on you and I felt nothing but love. Even though you was born 4 weeks early, you was a big baby. 7 pounds and 14 ounces, 21 and a half inches. The definition of perfection, ten fingers and toes, a head full of dark thick black hair. Long black eyelashes, big beautiful dark eyes that could bring anyone to smile. I brought you home when you was two days old and your uncles and aunties were so excited to meet you for the first time. You brought smiles to everyone face when they laid their eyes on you. I took you everywhere with me. You went with me to get my hair done for prom And my nails done. You loved whenever I would gently scratch your head or back. You had the brightest smile ever, never cried every through all the times you was in the hospital. I remember the first time you stopped breathing. I thought I lost you, but you stayed with me. Until you were barely 9 months old. I held you for 9 months. God let me keep you for 9 months before he took you back home. I know you left in your sleep and I remember finding your little body. I remember breaking down. You was still warm, you just looked like you was sleeping. You looked so peaceful and when we got to the hospital, I just held you the whole time. Until 4 am the next day, I didn’t put you down once, I even changed your diaper. I was talking like you was still with me, but you wasn’t. I regret it every day for not checking on you early. But you’re always going to be my baby son and I’ll always be you mommy. I can’t wait for the day I get to see your smiling face again.
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