Letters that were meant to last
These are peer letters, not medical advice, and not a replacement for professional care. If you or your baby are in danger right now, please visit the Crisis Help Hub.
Anonymous peer space with volunteer check-ins for safety. One letter an hour.
What I wish I knew at 3 AM
What I wish I knew at 3 AM: the exhaustion is not a sign you are failing, it's a sign you are doing the hardest, most unglamorous work there is. Put the baby down safely, breathe, and let tomorrow-you handle tomorrow. Tonight you only have to get through tonight.
— Anonymous Parent
The day it started getting easier
The day it started getting easier was an ordinary Tuesday. Nothing dramatic happened, I just noticed I'd laughed twice before noon. If you're still waiting for that day, it's coming, quieter than you'd expect, and you'll almost miss it.
— Anonymous Parent
What I wish I knew at 3 AM
What I wish I knew at 3 AM, six months in: you are allowed to grieve the person you were before, at the exact same time you love who you're becoming. Both things are true. Neither cancels the other out.
— Anonymous Parent
The day it started getting easier
The day it started getting easier for us came right around the first birthday, not because anything changed overnight, but because I finally trusted myself. A year ago I couldn't picture today. Whatever you're in right now, you won't be able to picture your own today either, and that's a good thing.
— Anonymous Parent
These are peer letters, not medical advice, and not a replacement for professional care. If you or your baby are in danger right now, please visit the Crisis Help Hub.
Crisis