Writing helps me process...
Before we found out your big sister would be a Daisy, we called her "Tater Tot." Your Papa and I came up with the name in a really random way, but it was so nice to have a nickname to use when sharing stories and dreaming together.
So when we found out about you we knew we needed another nickname. One evening over Red Robin burgers (an early craving) we brainstormed, trying to stick with the fun potato theme. Lots of suggestions and laughs before we settled on the delicious treat: jo-jo's.
For several weeks we used your special name to dream, to make plans, to tell Daisy about you, and to share our joy with family and friends.
I'm sitting here writing this as your father tells his family that I miscarried last night. And every time he says it it becomes more and more real. I'm never going to get to meet my sweet Jo-Jo.
I'm so very sad that I never got to hear your heartbeat, or see your picture, or feel you move inside me. I'm so very sad that I'll never get to hold you, or hear your voice, or smell you, or nurse you, or kiss you.
It took me a while to get used to the idea of you, as you surprised us quite a bit. But I want you to know that you were so wanted and so loved. And you will be missed terribly.