To My Daughter

You were loved. You were loved. My daughter, you were loved, before I even knew you existed, you were loved.
The day we found out about you was the day you left us, exiting the place you should have inhabited for another eight months in a rush. By the time your father and I could get anywhere...they said they could try to save you. Please forgive me. I hope you can forgive me...I can’t. Your daddy, he doesn’t know. But I told the doctors to let me bleed. Please forgive me. I can’t; I let you die. Because, what kind of life could you have had, born to a fifteen year old addict and a twenty four year old fuck up? I don’t know. I don’t know if the knowledge of your life inside me would have given me the strength to kick my habits. Please forgive me…
Diana, know this: I loved you. I wanted you, even though I couldn’t condemn you to this kind of life. I love you. Your daddy loves you. He loved you so much he drank until he was numb the night we lost you. You were so loved. My Diana Rose. Mine.
I never felt your first kick. Never held you in my arms or touched your skin. Never saw your body even half formed. I wish I could have. I feel your phantom kicks, now. I wish you’d drawn even a single breath on this earth, but I’m so glad you never had to know a second of anything but love.
Diana Rose, you were named for beauty and strength. Diana is the Roman goddess of the moon, the silver archer, the virgin protectress of women and children. Roses are beautiful, and fragile, yet thorny. Not defenseless. I always knew you’d be beautiful and fiery, but I wanted you to have the kind of strength that I don’t.
I love you. You gave me my faith back. There must be a god, a heaven, and it must be beautiful, because you have to be in it. I love you. You will always be in my heart, my spirit. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. My daughter, my Diana Rose, my heart, I love you. I love you.