To the Mothers with Dreams Unseen

Very soon, as long as all goes well, I will be sharing pictures of a baby girl in my arms who I have carried now for over 9 months.

I anticipate that I’ll be full of joy and my heart will be overwhelmed. I anticipate my husband, my son, and our whole family experiencing this joy as well. I am so looking forward to that day. It feels so sweet that I can see it- I can see the different moments of labor and delivery and the precious time afterwards as we meet each other for the first time. I can dream about and visualize it.

Mommas: This flower crown is not just my own, it is yours too. It is for the babies dreamt about, created, carried. It is for those with us now and those who live only in our memory and hearts.   Photo Credit: @jubileecollective

Mommas: This flower crown is not just my own, it is yours too. It is for the babies dreamt about, created, carried. It is for those with us now and those who live only in our memory and hearts.

Photo Credit: @jubileecollective

In the midst of all of that, I also find myself hurting for those days that didn’t come. To the mommas who dreamt about and visualized this day and it never came- my heart aches. For those who have been struck by infertility, for those who have lost both inside and outside of the womb, for those who have a hole in their heart where tragedy is so big and unfair- my heart aches.

It’s unfair. It’s really unfair. I will never ever understand why infertility and infant loss is a reality for so many and yet I feel it’s so important to keep that reality in my mind and honor its’ harsh truth.

There are many dichotomies we participate in throughout life. How do we both celebrate joy while not overlooking the realities of pain that affect so many? How do we invite others to share in the manifestation of life that we are so excited about while not causing an aching in the heart of others who have dreamt and not seen? How do we partner together to be in one accord through the triumphs and also the pains?

I don’t have answers. I can’t fix a thing. But I can say this- I see you. I think of you. My heart aches. Even in the moments of bliss and joy of celebrating, I see you and I agree that it’s not fair.