To the Woman Who Has Experienced Pregnancy or Infant Loss

 

You carried life. 
Maybe for weeks. Maybe for months. 
Maybe until the very edge of hello— 
only to be met with goodbye.

You planned. You dreamed. You waited. 
And then, in a moment that split your world in two, everything changed.

What came next was more than loss. 
It was a silence so loud it echoed. 
An absence that followed you everywhere. 
An ache that no one could see, but you never stopped feeling.

Maybe you were told, “At least it was early.” 
Or “You can try again.” 
Maybe they meant well— 
but the world has no idea how to speak to this kind of grief.

This letter does not offer answers. 
Because there are none. 
There is only love.

Love for the baby you carried. 
Love for the mother you became the moment you hoped. 
Love for your body, which held life and now holds sorrow.

You don’t have to “move on.” 
You don’t have to rush your healing. 
You don’t have to make peace with something that still breaks your heart.

Here, we remember with you. 
We honor the name, the heartbeat, the dream, the tiny soul— 
even if no one else knew them.

Here, you are not expected to be brave. 
You are allowed to unravel. 
To miss them forever. 
To be a mother, even if the world doesn’t see you as one.

This grief has changed you. 
But it has not erased you. 
You are still whole. Still worthy. Still hers. Still his. Still theirs.

You are not alone. 
You are not forgotten. 
You are a mother—and your love is eternal.