To the mother waiting for her living baby,
I want to tell you that I love you. I want to tell you that I think you are courageous and gracious and strong. There are so many words that spill from my heart when I witness your pain and hear your story. But, there is one thing that you will never hear from me.
I will never tell you that a living child is in your future.
Because I do not know what the future holds for you. I do not know where your motherhood journey has yet to take you. To tell you to just wait, that one day you will hold a baby in your arms instead of your heart, I will not do that. It is a promise that I cannot keep and you don’t need my empty promises.
What can I promise you?
I can promise to be there when the days feel long and the nights even longer. I promise to honor the children in your heart as much as any living baby I know. When you need someone to acknowledge the longing ache of your empty arms, I can be that person. My words will always be full of support and void of platitudes.
I can promise to remain hopeful when you are feeling incredibly hopeless.
I will do all of these things for you, but I will never lie to you. I will never try to promise that you will one day have a living child.
Because I love YOU.
I love you and I will continue to love you no matter how many children are in your arms. I admire you for the mother you are and not the mother you had dreamed you would be. Yes, I believe that you deserve the motherhood you once imagined but I also believe you are deserving of love and hope if it never happens that way.
So again, I want to tell you that I love you. I think you are courageous and gracious and strong. I am here for you no matter what.
And that is all that you need to hear from me.
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash
One thought on “To The Mother Wishing For A Living Baby–You Don’t Need My Empty Promises”
This is so beautifully put and so incredibly important. I do have one child, but I still relate to this after my subsequent losses. When people tell me that I will get my rainbow one day, I say that I don’t want to think that way because the truth is, I may not. After three miscarriages in a row, I honestly don’t know if I have the strength to ty anymore. I feel so grateful that I have a healthy 12-year old son, while I and ache for the mothers who do not have that comfort. We are all mothers; some just get to experience the most painful parts of motherhood and never the joy. The love in their hearts however, is just as real, strong and and deserving of recognition—which you just acknowledged with your poignant words! ❤️