To the woman with all the signs of having brought a child into the world, your arms may be empty, but you are still a mother.
To the woman with the 5-inch scar, with the stretch marks, postpartum belly, and baby weight, your heart may feel like it has a giant hole in it, but you have a baby.
To the mother who never got to see the bright eyes and tiny waving arms, who never got to feel the warm, soft cheek against her own, who never felt the tight grip of her baby’s hand clutching her finger, take heart. You’ll see him or her one day.
To the mother who wants to run out of that hospital room screaming that you can’t do it, take a deep breath. The same Father who met me there with strength will meet you there too.
As hard as I know it is, lean into Him. Let Him carry you.
To the mother who is anxiously waiting to see your long-anticipated child—the child they told you had no heartbeat—but is scared to death of facing the grief you know you’ll feel, trust Him. Rest in Him.
He’s giving you strength for this moment, and He’ll give you strength for that one too.
To the mother who is saying to herself, “If only I had . . .” it’s not your fault. Your enemy will try every way he can to destroy you with guilt, don’t let him win. The truth is, your baby wasn’t meant to be here. He or she is too beautiful for earth. I’ll say it again, it’s not your fault.
To the woman who is asking how she could ever know happiness again, you have to believe it’ll get better.
To the mother who clings to and cries on that soft blanket that was once wrapped around your precious little one, who breathes in the lingering but fading scent of your child, if you can’t take comfort in anything else, take comfort in this, he or she is with their perfect Father knowing perfect love in a perfect place.
To the mother who feels numb, lost, alone, confused, who finds herself being strong for the people around her when she should be the one falling apart, this too shall pass. The numbness will wear off, you’ll continue to breathe.
Dear me, yes, you!
The one who didn’t have a clue what it meant to be responsible for that tiny life. The one who didn’t know the first thing about carrying that little baby. The one who faced your journey into motherhood without your mother there to guide you. The one who had watched mother after mother bring child after child into the world and had never faced the reality of death. The one who was completely confused when it happened to her.
The one who thought something so terrible couldn’t and wouldn’t happen to her.
The one who knows so much better now and is growing another child in her womb.
The guilt from all the things you understand now is eating you up and you have to let it go. The guilt of feeling guilt while carrying a child is plaguing you and try as you might, you can’t seem to find peace.
You don’t know it yet, but He’s going to supply the peace you need.
He’s gonna put those worries to rest . . . for good.
To the mother who’s questioning whether she’s deserving of being responsible for another tiny life, you are now more than ready to be a mom.
You are now facing motherhood without blissful ignorance. Your vigilance is exactly what your little one needs.
To the mother with empty arms, your grief may never fade.
You’ll have days where you’ll run from it. You’ll have memories that despite the pain of them, you’ll wish you could relive them because they’re fading and they’re all you had.
To the mother with empty arms, you are seen. Not one tear has fallen from your eyes that HE doesn’t see, and though you may blame Him, He’s not going anywhere. Let Him be the comfort you ache for, the pillow that you beat, the listening ear that you scream your frustrations into.