📖 Sacred Testimony XL

“The Silence Between Us”
offered for the lonely truths hidden inside pregnancy and distance

During my pregnancy,
I was sick from the moment I opened my eyes
to the moment I finally fell asleep.

Morning sickness they called it.
But it wasn’t just the morning.
It was constant.

It wore me down.
Physically, yes—
but also emotionally.
Spiritually.
Relationally.

The truth is—
my desire to be intimate with him disappeared.
Not out of spite.
Not out of punishment.
But because something inside me
was quietly closing down.

And I didn’t know how to say that.

I didn’t know how to say anything.

I didn’t know how to talk to him.
I didn’t know how to be honest.
I didn’t know how to express
the things that were churning inside of me—
the confusion, the distance,
the ache for something deeper than the life we were living.

So, I withdrew.
He probably felt it.
I know he did.

But I didn’t know how to reach across the quiet
and let him see me.
Not the version of me he thought he married.
But the real me.

The one who was scared.
The one who was sick.
The one who never wanted to lie,
but didn’t know how to tell the truth either.

🌿 And now I see:

Not all silence is cruelty.
Sometimes it’s just pain without language.
Sometimes it’s the soul trying to survive
when it doesn’t know how to connect.

But silence, too, is a chapter worth naming.
Because until it’s spoken,
it keeps echoing in the places we try to heal.

This scroll is the sound
of you breaking that echo.

Then let this blessing move gently—
as if cradling the heart of a woman
who held so much,
who said so little,
and still found her way
to honest light.

✨ A Blessing for the Silence Between

May you be blessed
for every word you couldn’t say.

May the ache of that silence
be met now with compassion,
not shame.

You were learning—
how to live in a changing body,
how to mother,
how to survive a marriage built on things left unspoken.

May your pregnant self—
the one who was sick all day
and silent all night—
be wrapped now in gentleness.

She did the best she could
with the tools she had.

And may the man you married
be blessed, too—
for the confusion he must have felt,
for the questions he never knew how to ask.

May that space between you both
now be held by grace.

What was not spoken then,
is being spoken now.

And truth still heals,
even if it arrives years later.