Dear Pearl,

I can’t express how inexorably saddened I am by having to let you go. I had to and I will never forgive myself for it. You must believe me when I say this, and, I won’t go into all of the reasons but the main one was that I was not ready to be a mother of a third baby, you.

My life so far almost feels like a film; transcending through the days and months and years, and somehow as time goes on, life still includes you in all of my thoughts. Guilt-ridden and damaged I do walk with a vague and sense of sadness. I look at babies and think of you and even as your brothers grow I feel you there, still, and imagine how you would have played.

I had an abortion. There, I said it out loud and it still hurts. Will I be judged by Him? Or is this loss and bereft, insidious sadness, which engulfs me the punishment I deserve. I do not know. Who does?

My mind made the decision and my heart surrendered, cowered, and succumbed to the mind. I can still imagine the room I sat in when waiting for the scan to see you and listen to your heartbeat, I wished it wasn’t there, but it was. And as Holly Willouby and Philip Schofield and laughed and bantered with their guest on the TV up above me on the wall, I blocked out the sounds and reality around me. The shame sat there, growing heavier and still sits there now. And then the day you left I remember the day so vividly. A pigeon sat just outside the car before I got out, the window I look out to had a church steeple, peaking through the gloomy clouds on that October day- it knew what I was doing.

And, the strangest thing is I know you would have been a girl, yet you were so tiny you wouldn’t haven’t even resembled a dead baby bird that had fallen out of a nest. You were not even a blueberry sized baby but to me, you were perfect. My May baby I think about each day. As these tears fall I hope you can see and know the love for you is always there, my love, my precious Pearl.

I guess as you can’t respond I can tell you about some of the happening which may have contributed to my decision. It’s not easy to write this down my love, and in a way I am actually glad you don’t get to live and have the chance of the heart break I have endured. But maybe this letter can help me heal. Maybe. The medications, therapy; talks with friends; mothers’ mental health support- groups and support in many other ways has helped, but the heart ache of falling from my dizzying Disney Pedestal came with such a thud into reality that I’ve been a bit battered and bruised since then.

Let’s rewind some time….

Me and your daddy met in 2004! We were young, in love and he was deemed my soul mate from the moment we met. He was and still is the most caring man I have met. He is thoughtful and he is a great daddy to your two brothers. But having endured a life of abuse, at the hands of his own biological mother, the scars are deep set, unwavering and instead of him healing the pain it has clawed me in and hurt me too. Maybe it’s the love I feel. Maybe it’s my nature- caring, supportive and understanding how children are affected that makes me an empath. I have stayed despite betrayal and I knew that if one day I had to leave I didn’t want three babies to feel my pain.

My life, the ever-changing and growing sense of self is now emerging. As the lockdowns are lifting and my therapy and medication is working well; exercise and healthy eating too, I do feel like I am getting my self- belief and confidence back again. This year has caused huge changes but one which will not falter is that I will never forget you and always have you in my heart.

The last thing I must add my darling, if you were here on planet Earth you would fit right in. Your brothers are beautiful, caring and always ask to have a sister. It is like they know you were there for a short while, tucked away safe inside me. Maybe one day you will meet them. Who knows?

I must now feel strong and now need to see life as not the beginning and this was not the end.

Forever in my heart my angel.

Mummy xxx