Two women sitting in front of a sunset.

Dear Mama,
Whether or not we have our children here on earth with us. Whether or not we’ve ever had a living child. If we’ve been trying to get pregnant, stay pregnant, or have a live birth, we’re mamas.
I can’t promise you much. I can’t promise that this year will be better than last year. I can’t promise that you’ll get pregnant, stay pregnant or have a live birth. I can’t promise that you’ll get to bring a baby home.
But I can promise hope.
At least, that’s what I’m promising myself.
This new year will be a year of hope.

  • Hope that I will survive this grief.
  • Hope that I will honour my babies with my life and that I will live the best life I can in memory of them.
  • Hope that I will find the joys in all the blessings in my life, no matter how small they are or how often the great cloud of grief tries to block out the bright things surrounding me.
  • Hope that I will be a bright thing to those around me, near and far.
  • Hope that through my journey, I can bring hope to other mamas.

I invite you to join me. 
Join me on this journey of hope. Hope that life can still be full and bright, even while our arms are longing to hold our angel babies. Hope that we will hold those angel babies one day. Hope that our arms will hold earth babies one day too. Hope to find joy while we wait.
Share your stories with me, here in the comments or in an email or on social media. Ask your questions. Vent if you need to.
Mamas, if you need to cry, I’ll cry with you. 
And as the tears fall, I’ll continue on hoping for joy to mingle into the mix in this new year.
A Letter to Brokenhearted Mamas