Dear friend,

You.  Yes, you.

Don’t be afraid to talk about my children – all of them.  Every time you say my son’s name confirms that he was here, he existed.  As his mother, he is a constant presence in my mind.  Sometimes it all feels like a dream, especially as time increases the distance between me and him.  I can’t explain the relief when I get the OK to talk about him out loud with you.  Even for just a minute.   My boy was here, and I’m not the only one who remembers him.

When you tell me that you thought of him, my heart warms.  Something as simple as a text message or an e-mail can brighten my day.  Someone else thought of my baby today, and I have proof.  My boy is loved, and not just by me.

If you want to do something more than a message, that’s great!  Any act of kindness done because of my baby is special.  Whether it’s something I’ve asked for in the past or something you’ve come up with on your own – it doesn’t matter.  My boy makes a difference, and not just because of me.

Things have changed from the first few days, weeks, and months since my child died.  I don’t need much help with day-to-day existence anymore.  That said, I am keenly aware just how little it would take to send me back to that place.  And there are some days when I just can’t engage beyond the bare minimum.

I may seem like I’m doing OK, but I am still profoundly broken.  I’m still a mom whose baby died.  I’m still the mom who cries more easily than before, who has lost whole aspects of her personality from before.  I’m still grieving.

Even if I can’t ask you directly, your support means a lot to me.  Please don’t stop now.

Love,

Heartbroken Mother

 

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