A precious gift from God, my baby was taken to Heaven without ever taking a first breath. Before my baby was ever able to feel a human touch, see a friendly smile, or cry a first tear, life was taken.

I like to imagine all my baby might have been; he (or she) could have been anything. Maybe Frankie would have loved music and been a guitarist or a singer. Perhaps Frankie’s passion would have been science. Maybe Frankie would have excelled at school, and gone on to discover a cure for cancer, or AIDS. Frankie might have become a writer, who would write a novel that would have turned the world on its head. I can imagine Frankie rushing into a burning building, or stopping a dangerous criminal, and saving lives. Then again, maybe a politician. Maybe my Frankie would have done all these things, and maybe none of them.

It’s possible that Frankie would have done something else great, something that no one else has ever fathomed. We’ll never know all that Frankie could have been or done. I lost my baby that day, and I still feel the pain with every moment, even though I never saw Frankie, never held Frankie, and never even felt Frankie move. The pain is not any less just because my baby wasn’t born. I still lost the chance to be a father.

Baby, I love you. I always have I always will. I don’ understand why this had to happen, and I’m sorry for (any) the pain you went through. I’ll see you in Heaven.

Love forever,

Daddy