Natalie reached out because she is carrying a kind of grief few people could ever survive — and she believes the people reading this will understand how to respond, or how to simply sit with it.
Natalie has lost two daughters.
Her first baby, Brook, lived for just one day.
Born with Phelan–McDermid syndrome, Brook was held in Natalie’s arms with the knowledge that she would never bring her home. One single day of love — and a lifetime of loss.
Natalie’s second daughter, Morgan, lovingly called Pie, was also born with Phelan–McDermid syndrome. Pie lived 17½ years — years marked by medical fragility, constant vigilance, and a bond only a mother and child like this can share.
Pie was nonverbal, but Natalie knew her language.
Every breath. Every sound. Every subtle shift that signaled danger or comfort.
Recently, Pie suffered a catastrophic medical crisis.
She was placed on life support for 30 days. When her body could not recover, Natalie made the most painful decision of her life — bringing her daughter home on hospice so she could pass peacefully, surrounded by love.
Natalie held Pie as she took her final breath.
She says losing Pie didn’t just mean losing her child.
It meant losing the version of herself that only existed because Pie was here.
“There were parts of me that only she could bring out,” Natalie shared.
“When she left, those parts went quiet too.”
Natalie continues on for the daughter she still has.
But the pain feels unlivable — not something to be solved, only carried.
Natalie believes the people reading this will have the right words — not words that try to fix grief, but words willing to sit with it.
💬 What would you say to a mother who has buried two daughters and is still standing for the child she has left?
Sometimes, a single honest sentence can be a small light in the longest night. 💔
If you want:
