Dear Mama,
As I sit down to write this letter to you, my heart feels heavy with the weight of the pain we both carry. It's a pain that words can't fully capture, a pain that pierces deep into the soul and leaves us feeling utterly shattered. But amidst this darkness, I want you to know that you are not alone. I am here with you, walking this path of grief alongside you, sharing in your sorrow and holding space for your pain.
The journey of motherhood is supposed to be one of joy, of celebration, of unconditional love. Yet, here we are, grappling with a reality we never imagined we would face - the loss of our precious angels. It's a reality that feels unjust, cruel, and unfathomably heartbreaking. And in the midst of this anguish, it's okay to feel angry, to feel cheated, to question why this had to happen to us. I understand, mama. I feel those same emotions coursing through me, threatening to engulf me in their relentless tide.
But even in the depths of our despair, there is a flicker of hope. It's the hope that comes from knowing that our love for our babies transcends the boundaries of this world and continues to bind us to them, even in death. It's the hope that comes from the memories we hold dear, the moments we shared with our little ones, however fleeting they may have been. And it's the hope that comes from knowing that we are not alone, that we have each other to lean on in our darkest hours.
I want you to know, mama, that it's okay to not be okay. It's okay to cry, to scream, to rage against the unfairness of it all. Your pain is valid, your grief is real, and it deserves to be acknowledged and honored. So take as much time as you need to mourn, to heal, to come to terms with the devastating loss we've experienced. And know that I will be here every step of the way, offering you my unwavering support and love.
In the midst of our pain, it's important to remember to be gentle with ourselves. To treat ourselves with the same kindness and compassion that we would extend to a dear friend in need. Take moments to care for yourself, to indulge in acts of self-love and self-care that soothe your weary soul. Whether it's a warm bath, a quiet walk in nature, or simply curling up with a good book, allow yourself the grace to find moments of peace amidst the storm.
And as we navigate this journey of healing, let us hold onto the belief that brighter days lie ahead. That though the road may be long and fraught with obstacles, we have the strength within us to persevere. Our babies may no longer be with us in body, but their spirits live on in the love that surrounds us, in the memories that sustain us, and in the hope that guides us forward.
With love, empathy, and unwavering solidarity,
Hannah
3 comments
Thank you for this! It needs to be read more than once to understand and accept it all.
This resonated with me on many levels. Thank you for writing and sharing this.
for me the hardest thing is to forgive my body. i struggled for so long to get pregnant and i lost my baby. it makes me so sad and so angry with myself. i try to be kind to myself but it is not easy.