By Stephanie Mitchell 
To the mamas of babies now turning five, the ones born during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic.
Alone, masked, giving birth in a hospital filled with fear and protocols. Some of you left through back hallways or maintenance elevators—quiet exits where there should’ve been balloons and cheers.
The ones with no hospital visitors, no sibling introductions, no joyful flood of family holding your newborn. No newborn photos, no parties, no sweet “welcome to the world” celebrations.
Just fear. Isolation. Quiet. Survival.
You missed out on moments you dreamed of. And if that baby was your last, it might ache even more—that the chapter didn’t end how you needed it to.
If you feel a pang when you see others welcome their babies with open arms and full rooms, you’re not alone. It’s not bitterness. It’s grief. It’s love. It’s the memory of what you didn’t get, but so deeply wanted.
You are allowed to feel it all. The jealousy. The sadness. The guilt. The ache for closure.
Your experience matters. Your story matters. And your love for your baby, even in the hardest of times, was louder than anything you missed.
You didn’t do it wrong, Mama. You did it with a quiet kind of strength the world will never forget.
Originally published on the author’s Facebook page
by Danetta Powell 
by Kayla Runkel 
