A Letter to Carter

Carter,
I stopped by your grave the other day and put my finger in your tiny handprints as I always do. I remember when I saw the proof of what your marker would look like, I asked if your hand prints were the correct size. They just seemed too little, smaller than I remember them as I sat in the hospital room trying to memorize every detail of you. To me, you just looked so perfect.

Sometimes I just wish this pain would go away and that I didn't have to feel it every day. But that would mean not knowing and loving you, so I will take the heartache. The pain reminds me how very much I love you and wish you were here. You will always be a very important part of our family.

As I walked away from your grave, I got mad. Sometimes, mommy still has a hard time with wondering why we didn't get to keep you and why this had to happen to us. Your little handprints reminded me that I will never get to hold your hand and walk you down the street, or around the house like your brother loves to do. I love Cohen's little hands. Some days I just sit and look at them. I love when he wraps his little hand around my finger and wants me to go somewhere with him. I want that with you and I will never have that on this earth. I want to see you walk and I want to feel your little hand in mine. I don't know how old you will be when I get to heaven, but I sure hope you aren't too old to hold your mom's hand.
Love you forever.
Mom