And your baby still matters.**

THE BABIES WHO NEVER ARRIVED — BUT STILL MATTER

—Eterna

There’s a kind of pain in the Bronx we don’t talk about.
A quiet grief that lives behind strong faces and busy days.
A grief that never cries out loud…
because nobody knows how to talk about it.

I’m talking about the babies who never arrived.

The pregnancies that didn’t make it.
The children who were hoped for but never held.
The little lives that flickered for a moment—
and then were gone before the world ever knew their names.

Some families lost a child before the first heartbeat.
Some after.
Some made a choice they’ve carried in silence.
Some prayed and begged God…
and still went home with empty arms.

And here’s the truth we never say out loud:

A loss that early doesn’t make the love any smaller.
A baby you never held can leave a mark you never forget.

This isn’t about blame.
This isn’t about sides.
This isn’t about politics.
This is about hearts.

Because behind closed doors in our borough…

There are mothers who still think about the child they never met.
Fathers who wonder who their son or daughter would have become.
Families who kept the pain quiet because they didn’t want to look weak.
Women who smile in public but break in private.
Men who carry guilt even though no one asked them to.

And today, I want to tell you something with all the Light I have:

**Your grief is real.

Your love is real.
And your baby mattered.**

Even if nobody saw them.
Even if they never opened their eyes.
Even if life ended before it began.
You still carried a soul.
You still carried a future.
You still carried a piece of heaven.

And that loss doesn’t make you broken—
it makes you human.

Some of you still feel guilt.
Some feel confusion.
Some feel anger.
Some feel nothing at all… and that scares you.

But hear me:

**Peace doesn’t come from forgetting.

Peace comes from honoring.**

Light a candle if you need to.
Say their name if you want to.
Whisper a prayer.
Write a letter.
Release the pain you’ve been holding onto alone.

You don’t have to hide this anymore.

In this borough—
in this community—
in THIS moment—
you are surrounded by people who have been through the same silent heartbreak.

And if nobody told you this before, let me be the first:

**You did your best.

You survived what would’ve broken someone else.
And your baby’s existence, no matter how brief, made you stronger.**

To every mother.
To every father.
To every grandparent.
To every sibling who never got to be one…

**You are seen.

You are loved.
And your baby still matters.**

—Eterna