Dear Mama who has suffered a miscarriage,
Some days your loss feels invisible. Some days you feel invisible. But I see you—you, dear mama reading these words. I see your motherhood. This love letter is written for you. From one loss mama to another.
I see you very clearly. God sees you very specifically. He has not forgotten you.
The Lord is near to the brokenhearted… Psalm 34:18
The world seems to have gone on with life—unaffected by the shattering devastation that your heart has endured. Stores are full of normal people doing normal things in their normal lives. But you feel anything but normal, don’t you? The loss of your baby has changed the very fabric of your being. Nothing feels normal anymore.
You dreamt. You planned. You prayed. But still, your arms are empty…and so very heavy.
I recognize the waters you are treading—those choppy, violent waves crashing over you, threatening to pull you under.
I understand what it’s like to use every ounce of energy you can muster, just to make it to the end of each day.
I know the pain. And the confusion. And the anger. I know the weight of unanswered questions that crushes your heart—and you wonder if you’ll ever be free from the burden. I know the ache of an empty heart and an empty body.
But I also know the hope and healing that will come. I promise you, mama, there is hope and healing. Maybe you won’t feel it today. Maybe not tomorrow. But it will come.
God heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3
I know there are days you don’t feel strong. But you are. Strength may simply look like making it to the end of each day. As you take your next breath, you show strength. When you share your story with another hurting mama, you show strength. When you say your baby’s name, you show strength. Oh, yes, you are strong. There is a courage inside of you and it runs deep.
As you you navigate the ups and downs of life after loss, always remember that you are not alone. While our details and stories may be very different, at our core, we are mamas. We have the ability to see beauty in the places that others can’t. We savor the sweetness of each good day because we have tasted the bitterness of bad ones. We empathize with one another in ways that the world will never understand—because we have been there ourselves. We know. We understand what it’s like to dream and plan, then lose it all in one single moment. And it is with the power of empathy that we are bonded tighter, connected closer, and healed deeper.
I celebrate you—who you are as a mama, who you are as a woman. You are unique and fierce and beautiful in every way. I also celebrate the life/lives that are gone too soon. I celebrate the sacred mark that has been left on your heart. Wear it proudly. It testifies to the eternal love you have for your baby(ies). That mark tells your story—where you’ve been and where you’re headed. You will not only survive, but you will thrive
You are loved and seen. Remember that.