There is a particular ache that comes from waiting for something your heart already knows. When you are trying to conceive, especially while navigating fertility treatments, time takes on a different shape. It stretches long and wide with uncertainty. In that space, you may find yourself torn between protecting your heart and reaching for hope.
There is no perfect way to do this. And there are no guarantees. But there are rituals that bring you closer to your future. Not by forcing outcomes, but by connecting to what matters most. One of the most powerful practices we see in Futureality is this: writing a letter to your future baby.
It’s not just an emotional outlet. It’s a neural and energetic anchor. It gives form to your longing and shape to your love. It makes the invisible feel just a little more tangible.
Why Write to a Baby Who Doesn’t Exist (Yet)?
Because you’re already loving them.
Even before pregnancy tests. Before embryos. Before ovulation strips, charts, consultants and clinic schedules. This is your way of saying, I see you. I believe in you. I’m making space for you.
At Futureality, we believe in a blend of neuroscience and soul. And there’s science behind this ritual:
- Writing a letter activates the prefrontal cortex, which helps define your future goals and sense of self. When you write to your future baby, you’re not just imagining them. You’re claiming your identity as a parent-in-waiting.
- It engages the Reticular Activating System (RAS), your brain’s filtering system, which begins to focus your awareness around what matters most to you. This isn’t magical thinking. It’s selective attention, primed by love.
- Most importantly, it offers your nervous system a place to rest. A space to hold grief, hope, and everything in between.
This isn’t about pretending it won’t hurt if it doesn’t happen. It’s not about bypassing reality. In fact, it’s the opposite.
If It Feels Scary, That’s Okay
Writing a letter like this can feel risky, vulnerable, even frightening. You might be trying not to get your hopes up. You might be doing what many of us do when we’re hurting—trying to minimise the impact of potential heartbreak.
But here’s the thing no one says enough.
Whether you write the letter or not, it will still hurt if it doesn’t happen.
Writing doesn’t make the pain worse. What it can do is give the pain a shape. A space. A container that says, this longing is real, and it matters.
You don’t have to be overflowing with hope to write this letter. You can write it in the midst of grief. You can write it while you’re angry, tired, or frustrated. You can write it even if you’re not sure you believe anymore. This isn’t about being positive. It’s about being true.
What to Include in a Letter to Your Future Baby
You can start with “Dear Baby,” or “Dear Future You,” or even no greeting at all. There are no rules. But here are a few gentle prompts to help guide your words:
Say what you wish others understood: this letter can be a safe space for all the words that feel too tender to speak aloud
Describe the love that already exists: how you imagine holding them, speaking to them, caring for them
Speak about your life now: where you’re at in your journey, how you’re preparing emotionally or physically
Share the hard parts: the pain, the waiting, the appointments, the heartbreak
Tell them what you’re dreaming of: moments together, milestones, your hopes for their life and yours
A Sample Letter Excerpt
Dear Baby,
I don’t know if you’re an embryo in a freezer, a name in our hearts, or a soul still choosing us. I don’t know when we’ll meet you. But I already know you’re real.
Today I’m writing through tears. My body aches from injections. My mind aches from hope and fear colliding in equal measure. I don’t know how many more appointments, needles, or heartbreaks are coming. But I know I’m showing up. For you.
You are not here yet, but I already think of you when I make tea in the quiet, when I see soft light in the mornings, when I imagine us laughing in the kitchen.
Whether you come through my body or someone else’s, whether you arrive soon or not at all, I want you to know you were wanted. You were prayed for. And you are loved.
Love,
Your Mother
When and How to Use This Practice
You don’t need a perfect moment or setting. You don’t need to wait until you’re in a good place. All you need is a few quiet minutes and permission to feel what you feel.
You can write by hand in a journal, type it into a document, or even record yourself speaking to your future child. You might keep it, or burn it, or fold it into a vision board. Whatever you choose, let it be a moment of connection between your present self and the future you’re hoping for.
You might revisit this letter before an embryo transfer, after a failed cycle, or on a random Tuesday when your heart feels heavier than usual.
This practice is not a promise that your baby will come. It’s a promise that you showed up with love anyway.
Support and Resources for your Future Baby
You’re not alone. If you need support while on your fertility journey, here are some external resources you may wish to explore:
- Fertility Network UK – UK’s leading patient fertility charity
- US Fertility network – info on practices and IVF labs
- Tommy’s – Pregnancy loss and fertility research
- Mindful IVF – A guided meditation app for IVF and fertility journeys
Final Thought
This letter may feel brave. It may feel foolish. It may feel like both.
But writing it is not about guaranteeing a baby. It is about creating space for the love that already exists, even if that love lives only in hope for now.
In the Futureality philosophy, we believe this. Your brain responds to what you practise. If you practise connection, even in pain, you teach your mind and heart to keep showing up. You build resilience. You build trust. And you remind yourself, even in the unknown, that you are still becoming.
You don’t have to fully believe. You don’t have to feel ready.
You just have to begin.