A/N: Last but not least is one letter, completely unrelated to the story, you don't have to read it. By all means turn back now, you won't lose any sleep by not reading this. :) This is a letter written by me for my Layla, who was in utero for 12 weeks before she passed away. Again, it's purely speculation if she was a male or a female. It was too early to tell.

Dear Layla, or Harrison if you were a boy,

I would like to take the time to introduce myself to you right now, as your mother. As the woman who wanted nothing more than to hold you in her arms and rock you to sleep. As the woman who would have put your bassinet right next to her side of the bed in order to wake up with you each and every time. As the woman you prayed so hard for the hpt to be positive that month, instead of negative. The woman, who did everything right, but yet you were still taken from me. I want to let you know that you would have been beautiful, and precious, and a quiet baby. Just like me. Just like your father.

We don't speak of you often, for the wounds are too new, still too open. I doubt they will ever close, ever heal, one day they may have to be cauterized. Wrapped in a tourniquet, throw to the cats…that's besides the point. At the point where we found out you were growing inside of me, I was ten weeks along, and it's sad to say that two weeks later you were gone. I woke in a frenzy of pain, and I knew in that moment, in that very second, I was no longer your mother. We never told anybody about you, I had just turned twenty and your father and I had just started dating, it wasn't an opportune time, but we welcomed it. In those two short weeks we came to love you wholeheartedly, and to this day I can honestly say that I don't love another thing more than I love you. You were everything to me.

I dreamt of your face every night for a month, the big brown eyes, and the eyelashes that seemed to go on for miles, at first I thought they were a curse. I've embraced them since my childhood. Your hair would have the perfect amount of curl to it, and just the right shine on those chestnut locks. You'd have ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes, a cute nose, and you'd smile up at me like you had known me forever, and in a way I guess you would have. We were miserable darling, but don't let that stop you from enjoying life wherever you are. You are precious to us, you taught us a valuable lesson, and we'll never forget you for it.

Your father and I thought for days of what to name you, fought for hours on end. I wanted it to be hyphenated, he wanted something from the Romantic Era. I'd scream that no kid of mine was going to be named Victoria, and he'd yell that his kid would not be named Mary-Lou. How wrong was he. We decided on Layla-Michelle (after my mother) if you were a girl. and Harrison Charles (after his father) if you were a boy. We'll never know now, and at first it killed us, but the pain had dulled down to a minor ache. I guess you could say that time heals all wounds.

Mommy and daddy are getting married in over 300 days, and while we had always planned on having a flower girl or a ring bearer, we will forego those amenities, because you are not here to fill the role. A moment of silence in our vows will commemorate you in a way that just he and I will understand. Your death nearly tore us apart in the end my love, but we stayed for your future brothers and sisters, we stayed because of you. But again, that's another story left for a better time.

It hurt, to walk around and know that you weren't growing inside of me anymore, but it was something that I had to get over. It was something that many women before me had to endure and many women after me will have to endure. I just want to apologize Layla, apologize for not being strong enough to carry you to term. Apologize to you for my body rejecting you, apologize to you for falling down those stairs the week before I lost you. Your father never blamed me, but I blamed me. I used to say when I was younger that I didn't want children, that is until I met your father. Then and only then, did I want a child. So deeply that each month I deluded myself into thinking I was pregnant, only to have my hopes and dreams crushed when the test turned up negative.

I will never get to hold you, I'll never get to see your smile, or hear your laugh, but I am glad that I got to know you for the short time that I did. You caused me to open my eyes to the perils of the world and to accept every obstacle that comes my way with finesse and dignity. I love you my daughter, or my son. You will forever be the light of my life, but I'm moving on now. I wish you were here to celebrate life with me and your father, and your aunt turned sister. But wherever you are, I hope you are wrapped in a pink blanket, hot pink…with zebra stripes, and wearing a black bow. I hope you smile, laugh, and dance. I hope you'll never be afraid to live your life.

I love you Layla, and again I'm sorry I couldn't have you.

Love, Mommy.

A/N : Thank you all so much for reading and letting me bare to you my life story. I appreciate every review and every follow. I appreciate the re-tweets, and the links on Facebook. Funny how my computer just capitalized Facebook :) Layla-Michelle or Harrison Charles thanks you as well. Love always, MusicalCatharsis.