One of my biggest regrets is keeping secrets.
It's not being completely and utterly raw with you about how I felt.
It's waiting until it was too late to share things.
I had a small box of baby things I'd already started. I thought I would share them with you when I was ready for a baby. When I was really ready to try. Balls-to-the-Wall, Sink-or-Swim, Let's-Make-a-Baby TRY. I'd collected a few things already that I thought were adorable.
You never knew.
I know you were ready for kids but I was still scared. Scared of not being a good mom. Scared of not being able to be a mom. I'd practiced for 10 years telling myself it was ok if I couldn't. And then I met you. For the first time in my life I'd met a man I wanted to have kids with. I wanted you to deliver our children. You were so good at your job and I knew it. You had it as a bucket list item and I wanted to give that gift to you. I found the right OB/GYN to make it happen.
I was scared I couldn't provide for them - I had too much in student loans and I wanted to give them the best: the organic food, the gymnastics classes and soccer lessons and whatever they wanted to try I wanted to be in a position financially to offer it. If we had kids you'd have a wife whose debt made those options more difficult. I wanted a better life for our kids than you or I had.
I should have told you I was saving that tiny box of onesies and Little Golden Books. I should have told you that I didn't want to just have kids. I should have told you that I only wanted kids if they were with you.
I love you. I miss you. I haven't forgotten you.
All my Heart,
Stephanie
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