To My Little One, During This Transition

home insemination Kit

Hey there, sweetheart.

I need to say this: I’m sorry. I wish I could express it more profoundly, in ways that truly convey how I feel. I find myself saying it daily, for countless little reasons—like when you stumble at the playground, or when I forget to bring your favorite snack, or when I can’t grant your request. Each of those small apologies carries a weighty truth behind it. I’m sorry that it’s just me here to hold you sometimes. I’m sorry we’re navigating this on our own.

I always wanted more for you. You deserve the kind of family you see around us—mom, dad, and child, all together. Those families seem so complete, while we’re wobbling on our own, trying not to fall apart.

Although it’s been tough for me, I’m starting to heal. The challenges I faced are fading into something more manageable, like a scar that no longer stings. I’m beginning to see the possibilities rather than just the losses, and I’m shedding the burdens I carried for so long.

But for you, my dear, there are losses you’ll feel forever. No matter where you go, you’ll miss the other half of your family, and that ache will linger. You will always have a piece of your heart that feels incomplete.

I remember walking to the park with you not too long ago, holding hands under the sun, when you asked about your siblings. I felt tears welling up, and I struggled to find the words to explain why you might not have brothers or sisters. The truth is, I don’t know how to tell you that you may not have any siblings that share your looks or your laughter.

Each day, I’m learning to let go of dreams that may never come to be, allowing them to slip away like grains of sand. I want to help you understand and accept these realities, as you grow older and start asking more questions about why things are the way they are. I’ll have to find a way to explain why we have two homes and why your parents live apart.

You are such a bright light, my love. Your laughter is the sweetest sound, and your intelligence and kindness amaze me every day. You quickly make friends and proclaim them as your “best friend!” even after just a few moments together.

I have no doubt that you’ll be just fine—more than fine, actually. You’re surrounded by love and strength. I know you’re aware of that, even if life has its challenges. Many kids go through similar situations, and you won’t be alone in this.

Honestly, I never expected this to be our reality. When you were born and I held you close for the first time, I couldn’t have imagined that this would become your story, too.

Every time you snuggle close at night or when I pack your bag for a visit, I wish I could shield you from the confusion and hurt. When you ask if I’m coming along and don’t understand why I can’t, my heart breaks a little more each time. It’s hard to find the right words to make sense of it all.

I want to be clear: I’m so sorry. Sorry for the things you don’t even know you’re missing. I can’t express how deeply I feel that loss for you, even if you don’t fully understand it yet.

I hope that we can grow strong, even while apart. I want our family to stand tall, even if we might not look like the typical picture of togetherness. I hope this never feels like less to you. I want us to become more than just a collection of pieces.

I dream of a day when I won’t feel the need to fill this gap with endless apologies. I hope goodbyes will become less painful, and this situation will eventually feel normal, rather than a makeshift version of a family.

I wish for you to have siblings one day, to experience the joy and chaos of family life. If that doesn’t happen, I hope you find that bond with friends, cousins, and all those quirky aunts and uncles.

You’re doing great, my sweet pea. When you wake from nightmares, I’ll rub your back and remind you: you’re okay. I watch you breathe peacefully, your hair tousled and your cheeks glowing in the soft light.

I’m sorry, I hope, you’re okay.

For more information on this journey, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and family planning at Progyny. And if you’re curious about at-home insemination options, Make A Mom is a great place to start.

Summary

This heartfelt letter expresses a mother’s deep apologies and hopes for her child as they navigate the complexities of family changes during a divorce. She acknowledges the losses her child may feel and reassures her of her love and support, aspiring for a future where their family remains strong despite the challenges.