This is a letter I wrote hoping to help pregnant mamas who have just received the diagnosis of a birth defect, it is what I wish I could have told myself after the news of my daughter’s defects.
Dear pregnant mama,
I wish we could meet, I wish I could stand in your time and space, hold your hand, hug you and show you a picture of your life now. I wish I could look you in the eye and tell you how much you are going to love that baby in your belly. I wish I could bring your child to you and let you hold her and hear her giggle. I want to tell you there is no better sound in the world than that giggle.
I want you to see how beautiful your child is. I want you to know you will see nothing but beauty in her face, you will truly find her to be the most beautiful girl in the world, and you will wonder how you could have ever doubted that you would think different.
I want you to see that her differences are usually not the first thing people see.
I want to tell you that her eyes are showstoppers, and she totally steals the show anytime she walks into a room. I want to tell you she will have amazing strawberry blonde hair with spring curls, and everywhere she goes, someone will comment on her beautiful locks.
I want to tell you that when you stand her in the mirror and ask her, “Who is a smart, sweet, and beautiful girl?” she will giggle with confidence and say, “Me, mommy,” and you will be able to see in her eyes that she knows in her heart how smart, sweet, and beautiful she truly is.
I wish to tell you that your concerns of stares and whispers are false, but truth is that does happen. I want to tell you, though, that you will be surprised at how little you care. You will realize it’s not about her and who she is, but instead, those reactions are about them and who they are. The comments on how cute she is and how bubbly her personality is will far outweigh the questioning stares and eyes that dart away.
I want to tell you that your fears are all washed away now, all the what-ifs and worst-cases never happened, and it added nothing of value to your life by wondering if they would.
I want to tell you to stop wasting your heart on the sadness and cherish those kicks and rolls in your belly. I want to tell you to let go of the fear and ignore the people who think she is going to be less than. I want to tell you how normal she is, how smart she is, and how silly she is.
I want to tell you to forgive yourself for the thoughts you had when you found out about the birth defects. I want to tell you to remember this was not your fault, and blaming yourself does nothing but take away pieces of beauty that she is. I want to tell you to stop Googling, stop scouring the internet, and just breathe and wait for her.
I want to tell you that when you see her, it will all make sense—God choose you to be her mother, He knew you had something in your heart that she needs to grow up in a world where she will always be different. God knew your heart would always see her as beautiful, and He knew you would instill in her the confidence she needs to walk through this life beautifully different.