The Words I Never Wrote

I don't know when it happened. All I know is that at some point, I lost it. I lost the details and I'll never get them back.

I remember both of her brothers' births. I remember her sister's birth. I can't remember hers.

There are a couple glimpses I get — like watching Friends while trying to sleep beforehand. But I can't remember leaving for the hospital. When did I start feeling contractions? When did we show up at the hospital? How did it feel to hold her the first time?

I love her so much and I can't remember the first time we met.

She's the second born. The one who has always felt different. And here I am, able to tell her siblings about the days they were born, with nothing to offer her.

Will she feel unimportant or forgotten? Will she feel like her birth mattered less? Will she think she was less wanted?

I didn't think I had to write it down. How could I ever forget something so momentous?

But it's been almost 14 years. I grieve the words I never wrote and the memory I lost.