Dear New Parent of Loss

Oh mother, oh father,

I know your world is shattered, and you feel so broken. I know you are living in a reality that feels moment to moment. I know you are avoiding well-intended questions like, “How are you doing?” Because honestly, you don’t even actually know how you are. You don’t know how to survive this tragedy that has taken over your life, your every thought, and nothing else seems to matter right now. Nothing.

You don’t know how you will survive this. You don’t know how you will live every day without your child. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I know you feel so alone in a room full of friends and family. But I want you to know you are not alone.

There is someone out there who wants to walk hand in hand with you. Someone who wants to know your story and hear your child’s name. Someone who wants to know how old he/she was and what was the color of their eyes and hair. Someone wants to know the quirky little things they would say or do or how generous and kind they were. Someone will speak their name with you.

Oh mother, oh father who never met your baby, there is someone who wants to know how much you loved your baby. Someone that wants to know when you were due so we can pray for you. Someone who wants to walk with you through the triggers of baby shower invites, pregnancy announcements, and how to answer the questions that others ask “How many children do you have.” Someone who will be there for you if you conceive after loss and listen to all of your fears.

There is always someone at Red Bird Ministries that cares that you know this pain, that you need support, that doesn’t really want to be here but is so grateful that this ministry exists. I felt the most understood being surrounded by others who just knew the pain that words could not properly describe. We just understand other parents who have experienced the same devastating, life-changing news as you have been given.

We all need to know others who have had a loss similar to ours, similar circumstances, similar age of loss, who are a little further ahead of us. I need to be able to follow in the footsteps of other parents marching ahead of me. I need to see them grieve and know that it’s okay to feel what I am feeling. I need to see them grieve with hope, the hope for heaven. I need to see them survive another day. I need to hear them share what they do for the holidays and how they made it through those awful days. I needed someone to tell me, “it’s ok!”

I need to know that there is nothing wrong with me for missing my child. I need to know that I am not going crazy if I cry every day. I felt so insecure in my grief and needed to see that others felt the same way that I did and still sometimes do. From one grieving parent to another, we need to normalize the grief experience for others new to the journey.

You are not crazy if you still sleep with your child’s blanket or in their favorite t-shirt. It’s okay to keep their ultrasound picture, or their pacifier, or their favorite baseball jersey. This is your journey, your child, be kind to yourself and allow yourself the space to feel your emotions. You have to feel to heal. Be kind to yourself.

Creating new traditions for holidays, anniversaries, or birthdays can help you on those hard days. It is important to create space for your child during that day to remember them. You are still a mom. You are still a dad. The pain may never go away, but you do get stronger. Know the fog will lift, and you will smile again.

Wrapping you tight in love,

Ryan and Kelly Breaux