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  • Welcome to the Mental Health Mama Blog! There are three ways to get support!
    1. Read the blog for stories of everyday life with mental illness

    2. Engage on our Facebook Page(link at bottom) by asking a question via private message- your question will be shared anonymously to the group for answers.

    3. Stay tuned for our Meetup group (local to Pittsburgh PA)

    **We are not licensed to diagnose or treat any condition. Please consult a medical professional for advice on your condition**

Dear unborn baby boy

Dear unborn baby boy,

I got to see you on an ultrasound today. I have to admit I was a little apprehensive about what we would see. It hasn’t been an easy few months for me and I wasn’t sure if it had affected your little world inside of me.

But as I bit my lip and watched wide eyed the technician showed me your perfect little face.

Somehow, while my own eyes cried frustrated tears in Intensive Outpatient Therapy, yours grew and are set to develop perfectly. I can’t wait to gaze into them in a few months.

She showed me your heart and I sighed with relief. Even though my heart was heavy and fearful, yours was beating strong and true.

Somehow, while my brain waged a civil war on me making every moment a living nightmare, your brain grew and developed beautifully. I can’t wait to have conversations with you and hear your unique view of the world.

Amazingly, while my lips moved to beg the therapists and psychiatrists to please help me, yours grew just fine and I can’t wait to kiss them.

While my own hands pulled at my hair and scratched at my arms to try to ease the inner turmoil your little hands grew and are opening and closing, exploring your face and your surroundings. I can’t wait to hold your hand and take a walk together.

Despite how I watched my formerly self sufficient life fall and shatter piece by piece like glass to the floor, somehow simultaneously I built you up piece by piece into a perfect little human.

Dear baby boy something happened to me when you set up camp in my uterus. I stopped running. I finally stood still and let the storm that is my mental illness hit me. I wouldn’t say it felt good but there is a strange sense of relief in fully feeling and knowing it. And you know what? I think it’s passing on. For now. So I am very grateful to you. You are my ray of hope, my new beginning, my proof that the impossible is possible. You are showing me my strength and like many sons do for their moms you are already making me feel like a queen. I love you and can’t wait to meet you.

Your mama.

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