Every week join us. Write, post, link-up, share your story and your voice. Be part of carrying the weight of confidence, empowerment and share our mission to empower, inspire, and remind women, parents and children that the time has come to celebrate ourselves! This week we were asked to post a Just.Be.Enough moment in the form of a letter to our future children or our future selves
To My Dear One,
I already miss you. I don’t know what you were to look like. I don’t know your name. I don’t know your favorite ice cream flavor.
I’ve never met you. I might never meet you. But, I love you and I grieve for you.
I knew with every fiber of my being that we were meant to be together, but your father did not feel it the same way. And we had to believe it together for you to be here. He was willing to stay with me for our entire lives without children that he desperately wanted and I did not because he loved me. He never held it over me or tried to change my mind. He accepted and embraced that sadness. He was willing to open himself again to the hope of children when I changed my mind.
I could not bring you here unless you were wanted with two wide open hearts.
I understand why he felt this way. He had a tough few years after your brothers and sister were born. His wife had post partum depression. Twice. He lost his daughter and almost lost his wife. Twice. These have taken a toll on his well-being and mental health. I know he worried about another repetition of these things. I know he is fearful of the unknown specter of something worse.
Your father worried about being financially solid with four children. He had concerns about being emotionally capable of assisting four beings to fully realize who they are going to be.
I worried about those things too. I thought about them deeply. I knew you were worth the risk because I already loved you. How could I deny your existence when I already held you inside my heart? Just like I already knew your siblings, I knew your kicks as I nurtured you inside my body. Already knew your birth. Already held you to my breast. Already helped your first steps. Already heard echoes of your laughter in our home.
I grieve you not being here as much as if you had been.
Goodbye my love,
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