To all who dreamed of being a mother, raising a child, passing on your most prized possessions and values, I see you.
To all who fantasised about shopping for tiny clothes, fitting out a nursery and singing lullabies, I see you.
To all who chose names and schools and godparents, I see you.
To all who found car seats, cribs, prams, baby bags and other assorted baby paraphernalia, I see you.
To all with maternity wear that will never be needed, I see you.
To all with baby-shaped holes in their hearts, I see you.
To all who prayed for a baby, prayed for successful IVF, prayed for a miracle, prayed for God to answer this one solitary prayer, I see you.
To all who have loved and lost, I see you.
To all who visualised walking alongside their child, nurturing their gifts, imparting wisdom, watching them grow into teenagers and then young adults, I see you.
To all who missed out on first steps, first words, tantrums, arguments, groundings, curfews, first dates, proms and graduations, I see you.
To all who’s nests were never full, who’s nests now seem not just empty but hollow, I see you.
To all who wanted to share their childhood treasures: toys, nursery rhymes, books, songs and stories, I see you.
To all who have written letters, poems and songs to their children, I see you.
To all who desired to introduce their children to God so they might always know his love, I see you.
To all who care for non-biological children: adoptive children, foster children, godchildren, nieces and nephews, children at school, neighbour’s children, best friend’s children, soccer children, children at church, sponsor children, spiritual children—I see you.
To all with heartbreak, to all who are healing, to all who continue to grieve, I see you.
To all who are discovering what life without children might be like, to those discovering possibilities for joy, I see you.
You are not alone. We are your tribe. We see you.
And God sees you too.