I will always miss you. I will always feel responsible. Little girl, I'm sorry. You happened before I was ready for you. I chose to bear you no longer, not to give birth to and raise you. But you happened anyway, whether I was ready or not. And this is part of what I've learned. I won't have time to prepare in advance for everything. Now is all that matters. I must have what makes me happy now.
You will never have a funeral, so never have a eulogy. But if you did, I would have so many words to say. It's been three months and I haven't yet recorded all of them.
You mattered deeply to one person, and in that way you were better off than so many unfortunate people in this world. To the world, you were one person -- less, even -- but to this one person, you were the world.
I loved you. I still love you, even though you are gone. I love the idea of you, and I love what you have left me with. The pain, the realizations, the new mental pathways. You've forever changed my life for the better. Thank you.