Content warning: miscarriage
Dear Star Baby comes from the depths of my heart.
I had three boys when pregnancy loss first struck my family.
You should also know that I had longed for a daughter since I was a teenager. So, in that particular ultrasound appointment when the doctor reported that the baby’s heart rate was half of what it should have been, I felt blindsided and confused. Later, when there was no heartbeat at all, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was my daughter. I couldn’t shake the thought that maybe I’d missed out on her forever.
On top of that, the boys wanted a sister, too. And, somehow, my wife and I needed to break the difficult news to them. We had no preparation, no resources, and, ultimately, no clue how to do that effectively. In the end we did what most loving parents do—we simply did the best we could and hoped that was enough.
In all, we went through three miscarriages before my two daughters were born. And the thing about each of the babies we lost is that they had come and gone before we had even given them names. I learned, over time, that this is true of a great many babies. I learned that society also didn’t have a ubiquitous name for them.
But now we do.
And it is my sincerest hope that this book will be a resource and comfort for you as you walk this road of grief.
To my Star Babies: You brought us incalculable joy in the mere weeks we had with you. An incredibly difficult feat that only you could achieve. And although we haven’t had the chance to meet face to face here, know that I will always remember the light you brought us. I trust that you have taken your rightful place amongst all the other Star Babies—to shine your collective light on us all. For that I am forever grateful.
This article is a reprint of the Author’s Note in Dear Star Baby. Click here to learn more.