My Emily

"I'm sorry." His voice rings in her head. "The baby is gone."

"I'm not going anywhere, Mama." Her not-so-little girl smiles up at her. "I'll still be here. Don't cry, Mama."

A soft hand brushes against her cheek, her own light blue eyes meeting the dark brown of another. "Oh, Emily."

She takes in the girl before her.

Dark locks tumble over her shoulders, the thick strands interwoven with delicate white flowers, forming a crown over her head. Her hair cascades down her spine like a waterfall, covering part of the backless dress.

She shares a watery smile as the girl spins, the skirt of her white dress flaring with the twirl. She is the picture of grace and elegance, so different from the little girl she once knew.

'Of course, somethings will always stay the same.' She thinks as she eyes the girl's bare feet.

It's hard to imagine that this was the little girl she sung to sleep, the little girl who clung to her when she was afraid, the little girl she promised to love her whole life. The little girl, who grew up too fast.

"C'mon, Mama." She lightly tugs her hand. The lace of the glove is unfamiliar to her skin, and she misses the warmth of her daughter's touch. "It's time."

Her head spins, tears blurring her vision. There was no way this could be her reality, there was no way her baby was gone. She did everything right, everything they told her to do, everything she was supposed to do.

How could her baby have just left her like that?

"Aww, Mama don't cry." The girl hitches her bag over her shoulders. "I'm just going off to college, not fighting a war."

"I know, Emily." She tries to wipe the tears from her eyes. "But I can't imagine you not being here anymore, not seeing you every morning, not talking to you everyday..."

"We can still talk everyday, Mama. We have phones now." Emily laughs. "And I'll call you. You'll be the first one I call if ever I need anything, or even if I just miss you."

"You better." She tries to laugh along, but it's a choked laugh. Her baby's grown up without her, and she's leaving her. How will she protect her now that she's not there?

"I love you, Mama." The girl hugs her one last time before picking up her bags and strolling away.

"I love you too, Emily." Her voice echoes back as she watches her daughter's retreating figure. She's still so young, barely eighteen, but she's already gone to face the world; a world she doesn't know and will probably not be a part of.

But she has to be strong. She has to believe she's raised her daughter the best she could, and that she's responsible enough to make the right choices.

She's proud of her daughter and she's held on long enough. Now, she has to let go.

Her feet lead her onward. She has no idea where she's going, what she's supposed to do now.

There's no book on how to deal with this, how to deal with losing the sole precious thing in her life before she even got to know her.

She feels herself getting into her car, but she can't be sure. It's like she's disconnected from her body, her mind and soul being two separate entities.

She doesn't, however, bother to reconnect them, choosing to trust herself to take her where she needs to go.

"Mama! I did it!" Her daughter cheers, swinging her arms around her mother's shoulders. "I made class valedictorian!"

"Congrats, Emily." She hugs her daughter, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, a spot she's barely able to reach now. "I knew you could do it."

"Do you think daddy will be proud?" The teen asks her, hope shining in her eyes.

"Of course he would be, little butterfly." She tenderly strokes her pale cheek. "Don't you know you're the apple of your father's eyes? Nothing you could do would make him think any less of you."

"Thanks, Mama."

Tears continue to flow down her cheek as the dreams flash through her head. Her dreams for her daughter were shattered in an instant, an instant neither of them were aware of.

She had become their angel, gained her wings all too soon and left them without saying goodbye, before they even got to say hello.

"Go on and say hello, little butterfly." She nudges her daughter forward.

"I'm scared Mama." The little girl tugs her hand. "I don't want you to go. Please don't leave me here."

"Mama's not going anywhere, sweet child." She smiles, holding her child tightly. "I'll see you in a few hours, ok? You need to go to school so you can learn and make friends."

"But Mama, you've already taught me everything I need to know. I know my ABCs and I can count to a hundred. I can even tie my shoes." The girl looks up at her proudly, the only thing betraying her confidence her watery eyes and quivering smile.

"There's more to learn than that, little one." She gives her one last hug. "And you're going to learn more here than I could ever teach you."

"Ok." The girl looks at her reluctantly. "You'll be waiting for me at home?"

"I'll be right there, waiting for you to tell me all about your day." She assures her.

"Love you, Mama." She whispers as she takes a deep breath, stepping into the classroom.

"I love you too, Emily." The mother watches as her daughter steps into a new world, smiling as she's immediately swept away by a bouncing boy and pulled into a group of friends.

Her daughter will be fine.

She just wishes she would stop growing even just for a minute, stop running ahead while she's still crawling. She wishes she would stay her baby, just for a moment longer.

She doesn't mind time moving forward, however, when a few hours later her daughter returns, jumping excitedly as she tells her all about her day and what she did. And that she can't wait to go back to school the next day.

The streets pass her by. She still doesn't know where she's heading, but she doesn't stop. She can't stop. She won't stop.

She's going somewhere. Her little angel up above is leading her somewhere and she's not going to stop her, not going to take away the last moment she may have with her.

"You can do it, baby." She cheers her on, watching as the child before her wobbles unsteadily on the bike.

"I'm scared, Mama." The bike shakes as she turns her head, fearful eyes glancing over at her.

"You're doing just fine, baby girl." She cheers her onward. "Don't be afraid. And daddy's right behind you. He'll catch you if you fall."

"Ok Mama."

She watches as the girl cycles on, watches as she does a lap around the park before her husband lets go, smiling as her daughter doesn't even realise it and continues to cycle on.

"Daddy?" She looks at him questioningly as she peddles pass him, glancing behind her for a quick second before realisation dawns on her. "I did it! I'm cycling on my own!"

"Yes you are baby girl." The mother shouts back, watching with pride as the girl does yet another lap.

"Woohoo!" Emily cheers, her voice faint as she reaches the other side of the park. "Race you home!"

Her words spur her parents on, both quickly reaching for their own bikes as they race to catch up with her before she can cross the street.

The honk of a car startles them-

She finds herself parked by the park, the same park where Emily would have learnt how to ride her bike, and the tears come down in torrents.

So many memories, moments and precious seconds were taken away. She would never see her daughter walk down the aisle, never see her explore her passions, never hear her voice as she proudly exclaimed about her latest achievements, or cried when someone broke her heart.

She'd never get to show her the world, never get to hold her as she cried, never get to love her like she would have. There are so many things her baby would never get to do...

For whatever reason, her feet lead her inside, seating her on a bench in front of the play area, and she can almost imagine her own daughter running around, shouting at the top of her lungs as she evades another kid, the captor, in one of those games that somehow get passed down through the years.

But her daughter isn't there. Instead there are faceless children, children who would be in their teen years by the time her daughter would have been their age.

And around her are other parents, either engrossed with their phones or another child, tucked away in their prams. The ones playing are paid little heed, the parents content and assured that their kids will be fine for the moment with their lack of attention.

She wants to scream at them, tell them how precious these moments are because once they're gone, they're never going to get them back. She wants to remind them to hold their child as tightly as possible, to tell them they love them every second of their lives so they won't forget it, because life is too short to not tell someone you love them.

She wants them to love their children like she'll never get to love hers.

She sits in front of her husband, said man rocking a bundle in his arms with a look of absolute love and adoration plastered onto his face.

She loves this look on him. Fatherhood suits him, and she knows he'll be the best father to their newborn child. Emily is the luckiest baby in the world, and she is the luckiest wife and mother to have such a perfect family.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Her husband asks, carrying the baby towards her to be nursed.

"Yes she is." She smiles, taking out a bottle. "She's just perfect."

She cradles the babe in one arm, positioning the bottle in another. She's about ready to feed her when she suddenly feels herself being lifted off the ground and placed onto a lap.

"Mitch!" She carefully adjusts the baby, making sure she wouldn't slip from her arms. "I almost dropped Emily."

Teasingly, he places a kiss to her temple. "I know you wouldn't." He grins, holding his wife and child close. "You wouldn't let her go even if you could."

"I love you both, so so much." He coos as he watches the child feed.

The mother can only feel content. She's in the arms of the man she loves, while her child rests safely in her own. There is nothing more in this world that she could want.

Once the baby's had her fill, she burps her and holds her close to her heart.

She gently strokes the flushed cheeks, brushes the dark downy hair, kisses the tiny button nose. She watches as the baby's fists clench and clench, trying to find something to grab before clutching her pinky.

She hears her husband's soft "Aww", and looks on as the baby's eyes flutter open and close in contentment.

She commits those dark brown eyes to memory. Never will she ever forget them. Even if the day where she loses her were to come, she'd know her baby just by looking into her eyes.

"Hey. Don't cry."

A woman appears before her, holding out a tissue to her damp cheek.

Gratefully, she accepts it, inviting the woman to sit and put her bags down.

The woman does so carefully, almost warily, as if she had something to protect. She only realises that she does as she registers the bundle in the woman's arms.

"How old is she?" She can't stop herself from asking.

"A few weeks." The mother holds her baby close, gingerly brushing their noses together. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"She is." She agrees with a sigh.

This baby would have been six months older than Emily. They probably would have gone to the same school and be in the same year, maybe even the same class, if the woman and her child were from around here.

"If you don't mind me asking, why were you crying?" The woman breaks through her thoughts and she can only sigh.

"I lost my baby today." She explains, the tears returning to her eyes. "I had my twentieth-week scan today, and when the doctor did the ultrasound, there was no heartbeat."

"My baby was gone just like that." The tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision once again, and it was only a while later that she noticed the woman holding out her baby towards her.

"You can hold her if you'd like." The woman offered. "She's usually not fussy with strangers as long as she's being held."

With a watery laugh, she accepts, carefully cradling the babe, the precious being, in her arms. Softly, she coos, gently rocking the baby back and forth while it's rightful mother watched on.

"Hey. If you don't mind, I need to go to the ladies' room. Could you hold onto her for a while?" The woman asks, already getting up.

"Sure." She holds the baby out to the woman, watches as they rub noses and the woman whisper something into her ear, before the baby is back in her arms.

"Thank you so much." And the woman rushes off, leaving her and the baby.

As she cradles the baby, they wait for her return.

They wait for five minutes, ten. It is only as they approach the fifteenth minute that she makes up her mind to go looking for her. Maybe something happened to her and she needs help.

With the baby in one arm, she moves to pick up the diaper bag, watching as a piece of paper slips out from the side pocket.

She usually isn't nosy, but something tells her to read it, so she situates the baby and herself back on the bench.

Dear Rebecca,

You may not know me, but I know you, at least from my dreams.

I've been dreaming about you for the past few months now, ever since I found out I was pregnant with the baby you hold in your arms.

From the moment I realised I was pregnant, I already knew I couldn't keep her. The life I live is not one I would want for my child, or anyone, but I couldn't just get rid of her. I didn't know what to do, and then I dreamt of you.

Running into you at the park today was not a mere coincidence. I've dreamed of meeting you in the park for months now, and today, something encouraged me to go, told me that you'd be here.

And I, or I guess it, was right if you're reading this letter.

I know it's probably not right for me to leave you with my baby like this, but I had no other choice. I couldn't keep her any longer, and I know that if you knew, you'd try to make me keep her.

But she's yours now. She's been yours the moment I first dreamt of you. I just carried her for you.

I know you'll take care of her and give her the life she deserves, all the love she deserves. I know it because I've seen it.

You'll do such a wonderful job with her and she is going to become such a strong and beautiful young woman. I have no doubt she'll have your kindness, compassion and intelligence, and your husband's patience, love and understanding.

I'm sorry I had to do it this way, but know that I love my girl very much. All her papers are in her bag, including a letter for her for whenever you decide she's ready to read it.

Just do me a favour and tell her I love her once she's a little older, and that I've never stopped loving her.

Thank you for loving her for me and for taking care of our baby, our Emily.

Yours truly,

Aileen

Amanda Chan