The Great Unborn Wall

Dear Sebastian,

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My name is Brittney, and I am your mother here on earth. Although we never had the chance to meet, you’ve always been in my heart, a part of me that I can never forget. You were my child, and I wish I had known then what I know now—that your soul and spirit were alive from the moment you were conceived and that God already had a place for you in heaven.

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I’ve long carried the weight of not knowing if you were waiting for me to acknowledge you or if you even knew how much I long to make things right. Today, I write to you with a heart full of love, seeking forgiveness and a chance to honour your precious life.

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It was a time of uncertainty and fear when I discovered I was carrying you. My life felt chaotic, and I didn’t believe I had the strength or stability to give you what you deserved. The world around me told me there was an easy way to “fix” my situation. I believed them, not realising the depth of what I was losing.

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The day we drove to the clinic is etched into my memory. The silence in the waiting room was suffocating, and my heart whispered doubts I was too afraid to voice. Afterward, the emptiness was overwhelming. I told myself to move on, to forget, but how could I forget you? I buried the pain, yet it lingered, shaping my life in ways I didn’t understand at the time.

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I thought the choice would bring relief, but instead, it brought years of grief and regret. I tried to numb the pain, but nothing could fill the space you left behind. The guilt I carried seeped into every part of my life, affecting my relationships, my faith, and my sense of self.

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I couldn’t bring myself to say your name or even acknowledge your existence for the longest time. But now I know that healing begins with truth, and the truth is this: you were, and are, my child.

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It took years—and God’s unrelenting grace—for me to understand the depth of what happened. A simple question from someone who cared opened the floodgates: “Have you been affected by abortion?”

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The walls I had built around my heart came crumbling down. I couldn’t hide from the truth anymore: you had a soul, a spirit, and a place in God’s creation. Though I made the decision that ended your earthly life, God welcomed you into His arms, and your spirit lives on in heaven.

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I am so sorry, my beloved child. If I could go back, I would choose differently. I didn’t understand then, and I allowed fear and pressure to cloud my judgment. You deserved so much more—love, protection, and the chance to experience the beauty of life. For not giving you that, I ask for your forgiveness.

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Please know that I loved you, even in my brokenness, and I love you still. I hope you can feel that love, even from afar, and that you are surrounded by the warmth of God’s eternal grace.

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I have chosen to honour you through a memorial, a place where your name is written and your life is remembered. I light a candle for you often, letting its flame remind me of your presence and the light you brought into my life, however briefly.

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Your life has given me purpose. I strive to live in a way that honours you, sharing your story and supporting others who walk similar paths. Through this, I hope your legacy will bring healing and hope to others.

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One day, I know I will see you again. Until that day, I hold you close in my heart and trust in God’s promise that we are never truly apart. I pray you feel my love and know how much you mean to me.

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Please give my love to our Heavenly Father, Jesus, and all the angels who surround you. Until we meet again, my precious child, I carry you with me in everything I do.

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With all my love,
Mummy B. xx