Where Did You Go?

I want to start by saying I’m sorry for not posting here for a while. Life has been busy, and somewhere along the way this space—the one place I promised myself I would show up honestly—fell quiet. But I don’t want it to stay that way. I need this outlet, and I plan to focus more on being here, writing, sharing, and processing the pieces of this journey that are too heavy to carry alone.

Lately, something has been weighing on me in a way that feels almost silly to explain out loud, but I know some of you will understand. It’s the dreams.

The dreams where I’m a mother. The dreams where I’m pregnant. The ones where everything I’ve ever wanted is right there, real, within reach. I feel the baby in my arms, I feel my body carrying life, I feel what my heart aches for most.

And then I wake up.

And the world feels heavier. The day drags on slower. My mood sinks lower. Because it felt so real. For those fleeting moments in sleep, it wasn’t a hope or a prayer—it was mine. I was living it. And when I open my eyes, I find myself wondering, where did you go? Where did my baby go that felt so real in my arms?

It’s such a cruel trick our minds can play. To taste what you’ve been starving for, only to wake up empty. Those mornings are the hardest. They set the tone for the whole day, because the loss is fresh all over again. Not the loss of something I once had, but the loss of something I’ve never been able to hold at all.

Maybe you’ve had those dreams too. Maybe you know that strange mix of sweetness and heartbreak, of feeling close and yet impossibly far away. If you do, I just want you to know you aren’t alone.

This blog is called What Never Grew, but sometimes, in my sleep, I get to see what it would look like if it did. And that makes the waking hours so much harder. But I’ll keep showing up here, sharing the raw and the real, because pretending it doesn’t hurt doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Thank you for being here with me.