I once heard someone say that the stars are little holes into heaven, and that those we’ve lost sometimes peer out, little splashes of what we used to have, of what used to be. Tiny glimpses of what once was.

I never thought that was true; I didn’t want it to be. I wanted to have her back, back with me. Where I could hold her, carry her, protect her, like a mother should. I may be only fifteen, but still…I, I don’t know. I could’ve…made it better. I could’ve tried.

It was one year ago today. One year…she might have started to walk, just a bit. To stand. To crawl. It could’ve been special.

We would’ve put a candle on the cake, let her look at it, make sure her fingers weren’t burnt. Her name would have been Abbey.

It was one year ago.

I don’t look at it as one year since I got my abortion, no, it’s one year since my daughter died.

Show me the stars…please…show me my baby.