Dear Beautiful Mother,
I know how it feels to have your heart feel both heavy and hollow. I know how it feels for your arms to ache from the emptiness they are holding. I know that your life will never be the same. There is no going back to the way things were.
I know how it feels to wonder if life is still worth living. I know the thudding realization that hits you, square in the chest, the moment you awaken. The one that reminds you “Your baby is gone.”
I know how it feels to be surrounded by people you don’t want to see because the one person that matters most can’t be here. I know how the guilt feels. You’ve done nothing wrong, but the guilt has this terrible way of invading your mind and trying to convince you otherwise.
I know that the sight of other people being happy with their children makes you wants to scream and throw things. I know how it feels to look in the mirror and not even recognize the person staring back at you.
I know the feeling of watching your dreams shatter and knowing you will never be able to put the pieces back together in the same way. I know that you love your baby with every ounce of your being and I know that love will never go away.
I know that you’re exhausted. You will always be exhausted. Grief is exhausting.
I know that words will do nothing to change what happened. But, I also know that words have power and they can provide shelter in a time of need.
I know that you don’t want to be reading this letter. I wish I wasn’t writing it.
Finally, I know that you are loved and that you are never alone in this.
Love, Rachel (Mother of Dorothy)
Read more love letters from mothers of loss in Emily Long’s new book From Mother to Mother: On the Loss of a Child.
To discover more of Emily’s books and her work, visit her website.
This site contains affiliate links.