Dear Mac,

There is so much going on in this life of mine right now. I know you are looking down, praying for our family. I picture you all the time holding hands with Jesus and praying for us. Well, I have this image of you, almost four-years old walking away from me holding His hand. I never really picture your face. Is that strange? I just can’t imagine what you look like. As your Mom, this is something that although I have become used to it, I feel like I should be able to imagine what your sweet face looks like. I have learned, this simply isn’t meant to be. I will never know what you look like until I am able to be with you in Heaven.

I was going through my previous blogs about you and came across the time your brother, Hagen, thought the cashier was crazy for not knowing about you. The memory came flooding back to me as if it was yesterday, but I noticed something. The story, although nothing changed, was different for me. I was reading it as if I had more information than I did then. Mac, I have grown. I read over the part where I talk about how other people react to the news of your death and something amazing happened. I wasn’t as hurt as I was reliving the moment. I was aware, more aware of the where they were coming from.

Time passes Mac, time I wish wouldn’t. It only brings more space between the time I held you and now. No matter how much I resist it, I can’t slow it down. I’m afraid, Mac. I’m terrified I will forget how it felt to hold you in my arms or the details of your sweet face. Right now, I can look at my hand and remember how your little fingers fit into it. I remember how although silent, you were beautiful. Handsome like your Daddy. I don’t want to forget this. It is so strange to me, you know. Those moments in the hospital are moments I felt would be burnned into my soul. How on earth would there ever be a possibility of me forgetting any detail, no matter how tiny.

Time has allowed me to learn and grow, Mac. I know you see me, constantly reading, internally porcessing the knowledge and feelings I have. I can feel how much I am learning and growing. It is helping me.

I recently found myself submerdged in what I consider some of the best grief work I have read in a while. The funny thing Mac, the information has nothing to do with grief, yet everything about it can be applied to my giref.

My goal is to start a global conversation about stillborn grief. To bring awareness to the stigma surround it and the loneliness it can create, both with those going through it and those listening to and supporting the grieving. If I am being completely honest, Mac, I have ALWAYS felt a calling to do this. I just haven’t had the confidence or mindset to do so. I feel like I am now in a place to speak out, to start more conversations and open more minds about a loss like yours. You know how I know I am ready? It is because my writing changed purpose. I went from writing to soothe my soul to writing in hopes to comfort others. I am writing for the parents going through this and those around them. It is strange, Mac. The people I want to reach are outside of my current family and friends. Yes, I love when those I love read one of my writing but, I haven’t written specifically for them. I cringe when I say that for fear it might be offensive to those I love but, the honest to goodness truth is… I don’t write for them. I write for the broken hearted, sitting in the hospital questioning what their life will be like after leaving without the baby they delivered. I write for them. I pray it gives them even the slightest comfort knowing they are not alone. That someone has experienced this pain and come out the other side. I write to help them understand that it isn’t easy. There will be times (for the rest of their lives) they will hurt because of this tragedy. I want them to understand their journey through grief doesn’t have to be stuffed or held back because of how alone they feel. I want them to realize this road they are now on is winding and at times so steep they will question if they can keep going but, the will. I also want them to know that HOWEVER they choose to travel down this road grief threw them on, they will be ok and don’t need to explain or hide their feelings because of anyone else.

Mac, I’m still doing this all for you, my sweet boy. You have truly changed my life and continue to open my eyes and mind to so many beautiful things. Thank you.

From My Heart,

Mommy