I have always dreamed of having children. I became pregnant in November 2004. I was so excited. It was all I had ever wanted. I felt like things were looking up for me.

I woke up one day in January 2005. I was bleeding. I called my OB/GYN and went to see him right away. He did an ultrasound. I will never forget how I felt seeing two little black dots on the screen. It was amazing. I couldn't wait to tell their father.

The pregnancy itself was a bit difficult. First was the bleeding followed by bad morning sickness, then severe headaches.

I got married April 2005. That day was the first time I felt my son move. Sadly, it was the only time. Two days later during a doctor visit, I was told my son had passed away. I was 22 weeks.

I wanted to die. All I could do was cry. It took some time but I knew I had to go on for our daughter. Five weeks later I lost my daughter.

I was induced that day. Sixteen hours later I delivered my daughter, Ara, then my son, Dieudonne. Ara weighed just 2 pounds, Dieudonne weighed only 12 ounces.

Spending some time with our Ara was time I will never forget. We were not able to see or hold our Dieudonne. The doctor said he was not a sight we wanted to remember. He was in me too long, and he started breaking down.

The funeral was the worst; no parent should ever have to bury their baby. June 10, 2008, made three years now. It doesn't get any easier with time past. I cry every time I go visit them at the cemetery. I cry for their lives not lived, for not ever getting to hold or even see my son.

No matter what I try, I can't come up with a reason for it. After three years I have learned to deal with what has happened; I will never move on from it; I don't think anyone ever really does. I love my babies with all my heart and soul. Not one day goes by where I don't think of them. My precious little angels – I love you both very much and miss you terribly. We will meet again in a better place.