written by the woman who can barely breathe without you

I don't know how to say this without falling apart.
But I need you to know something  I need you to understand:

I don’t know if I’ll ever be your mother.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be worthy of the kind of love you could give me.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be enough.

I feel it, all the time.
This emptiness. This crushing silence inside me that says: You’re not enough. You won’t ever be enough.
And every time I feel that, I think of you.
You, the child I dream of but can never reach.
I’m afraid I’ll never hold you.
I’m afraid that no matter how much I want you, no matter how many tears I shed for you, I’ll never be the kind of woman who can bring you into this world.

I want to scream and shout and beg the universe to let me have you.
But the universe doesn’t listen to desperate prayers.
It doesn’t care how many times my heart shatters when I think of how much I want you.
It doesn’t care that I would give everything -every single piece of myself , just to hold you.

I wasn’t born into soft love.
I wasn’t born into a place that made me feel safe enough to dream of motherhood.
I had to fight for every inch of my soul.
I had to scrape myself together from pieces no one else wanted.
I had to learn how to survive in a world that kept telling me I was too much or too little, too loud or too quiet.
And sometimes, I’m so **** tired of surviving.

I’m tired of living in a world where I feel like a stranger to myself.
I’m tired of trying to fit into roles I wasn’t meant to play.
I’m tired of being strong when all I want to do is collapse into someone’s arms and say, I am lost. Help me find my way home.

But here I am.
Trying.
Every single day.
Trying to make myself whole enough to love you.
Trying to be enough to give you the home I never had.
Trying to figure out how to stop feeling like I’m drowning in the fear of not being able to make it.
But it’s hard.
God, it’s so hard.

I’m afraid I’ll never be the woman who can give you everything you deserve.
I’m afraid that maybe my past is too broken to heal in time.
I’m afraid that you’ll never exist, and I’ll never get to prove to you that I would have loved you more than anything.

If you ever come, if life ever gives me that miracle, I’ll be ready.
I’ll be ready to give you all the love I’ve learned to build, piece by piece.
I’ll be ready to show you the things I never had the chance to learn -the things that hurt me, and the things that healed me.
But until then, I’ll just keep hoping.
And waiting.
And trying.
Even when it feels like I’m failing.
Even when it feels like the universe is laughing in my face.

I don’t know if I’ll make it to motherhood.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to hold you.
But I can’t stop wanting you.
I can’t stop needing you.
I can’t stop the ache that never goes away.

And if I never get the chance to meet you, to love you the way I’ve dreamed
just know I will carry you with me, always.
I will carry you in my heart, even if it’s just a ghost of you.
And I will never stop loving you.
No matter what.
Even if you’re never born, even if I never get to see your face, I will always love you.

Always.
Your future mother,
who is learning to hope in the dark