Letter to the Grieving Mom Missing Her Baby Today

Megan Gaudette

Dear grieving mom,

I used to be good with words. I used to know all the right words and could say them with empathy and compassion. And then my baby died, and those pretty, gift-wrapped words fluttered away, leaving me with none.

What I turned to in my times of loss were visions. Illustrations. Stories without words. I would close my eyes and picture my giggling, goofy William being carried across the rainbow bridge to be greeted by all the other sweet babies who were called away far too soon.

I pictured their tiny roly-poly bodies grabbing for technicolor grass. I envision them scooped up by loved ones who tickle their tiny noses with wildflowers. Great gigis, sweet grandpas, tiny siblings, and other mamas and dads roar with laughter as the babies tumble through the most beautiful valley of flowers.

This vision has become so strong for me that I can hear my Grandmother's sweet voice singing "William!" in pure joy as she shows off her great-grandson to her gaggle of girlfriends. I can see my Grandpa sitting with William on a bench, wearing matching tweed Newsboy hats. My Grandpa tries to read him the comics while William is determined to shred every piece of it. I see my sweet childhood babysitter tracing invisible letters on his back with her delicate fingers. She whispers words she draws in his ears as his coos fill the air. I come back to this vision all the time. It makes me sob and gives my heart peace in equal amounts.

I didn't realize until further along in my grief journey that our babies were anxiously watching us and hoping for a similar picture. They nudge us and sometimes invisibly drag us. to hobbies we never knew we needed. To places, we never thought we would visit. To smells that transport us back to the beginning. And most importantly, to each other.

My favorite belief in these visions is that when a loss mama finds another loss mama, our littles are hard at work behind the scenes. They giggle and watch us from above, knowing their handiwork will produce precisely what our hearts need because they know more than we do that we cannot survive the loneliness of their absence without each other. They ache for us to find joy, understanding, and community as they have. Grief can be as slight as a thread, but a fellow loss mom will see it and hold it with a gentleness only she can comprehend. She is an earthly angel, as you are now. We are everywhere, sweet Mama. You are not alone.

So my words to you are few because there aren't many that make sense or can give any amount of comfort. Find your painting of peace. Hold it tight and come back to it again and again. Visit it even when you think you don't need to. Build landscapes of life for your little ones and know that in them lies their beautiful reality. A reality that you will someday join. What a beautiful reunion it will be.

Love, a mom who understands


Meet the Author:
Megan Gaudette

I am a mama to two beautiful earth kiddos and one angel. The one gift my son William brought me in his passing was renewed focus in honoring my creative heart. I know his spirit guides me as I work to find myself and my purpose through writing.

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Letter to the Grieving Mom Wondering Where to Find Hope

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Letter to the Grieving Mom Whose Miscarriage Still Matters