It’s a loss

 It’s a loss.

Even if it was only 7 weeks.
Even if you only knew for a day.
Even if you had mixed feelings.
Even if it wasn’t planned.
It’s still a loss.

And it hurts in ways most people won’t understand.

There’s this moment when you see the lines on that test, or feel that shift in your body when everything changes. Your heart makes room. Your mind starts dreaming. You start picturing tiny clothes and imagining names and wondering what they’ll be like. It doesn’t take long that love begins to grow instantly.

So when it’s taken away… it’s not “just a loss.”
It’s a shattering of dreams you didn’t even get the chance to speak out loud.

You feel like your body failed. You question what you did wrong. And worst of all? You carry that grief quietly, because people don’t always think it counts unless there was a crib, or a due date, or an ultrasound picture hanging on the fridge.

But it counts.

The ache is real. The bond was real. The love so real.

So to the mom who barely got to be one…
To the one who’s still bleeding, still healing, still holding on to the what ifs…
You are allowed to grieve.
You are allowed to cry over someone you never got to hold.
You are allowed to call it what it is a loss. A life. A space in your heart that no one else will ever fill.

And you are not alone.
Not now. Not ever.