The holiday of Mother’s Day was founded by a woman to honor her mother, who had watched only 4 of her 12 children survive into adulthood. Let that sink in. I learned this news from CarlyMarie, who had the idea of a Bereaved Mother’s Day back in 2010. You can read about it on her blog, CarlyMarie Project Heal. She has helped make a comforting place to learn about the importance of celebrating all mothers, those with living children and those without. You can find information on helping bereaved mothers and ways we as bereaved mothers can help ourselves during the sometimes painful season of Mother’s Day.
Yes, we, for I am a bereaved mother also. My second son was born still 4 and a half years ago. The stillbirth of H catapulted me into the club of millions of women and their families who have lost a child through miscarriage, stillbirth or infant death. It is a club I barely knew existed, but once I was a member it seemed that many of my friends were already in the club too. Few people openly discuss the loss of child. There are many reasons why, some may feel it too private, some may not want to think about it, some want to shield the feelings of friends who haven’t walked this particular road. While I respect a person’s decision to share or not, both their joys and struggles, I found sharing to be a huge part of my journey. I didn’t start sharing because I was thinking about others, so don’t put me on a pedestal! I started sharing because I desperately wanted to make sure people knew H mattered, had made an impact, and that he wasn’t forgotten because other people didn’t get to meet him or know him. Later I would learn from brave mothers that my talking about H openly, with love and to anyone, gave them courage and helped start healing in their own hearts. This is a beautiful gift to me, these courageous women feeling lighter in their own stories because H had been loved by our family. Sharing my story is a way I honor H and in honoring him I help in not only the healing of hearts but the removal of the stigma connected to talking about our lost children.
This year Bereaved Mother’s Day was observed on May 1, it was nice to see some of my friends on social media post lovely words of love and grief, so weirdly mixed when talking about mothering lost children. I wasn’t in a place of intense grief yesterday, but I may be in one tomorrow. The grief comes barreling out of nowhere sometimes. It isn’t kept safe to show up only on the days you expect, like the anniversaries of birth and death, or holidays like Christmas. No, grief sneaks up on Saturdays when you have to attend baby showers, or Sundays when you are walking in the park surrounded by blooming pregnant bellies and strollers with slumbering babes. Sometimes it shows up as you drive by the hospital where you learned you would be burying a child instead of taking one home. Grief is unpredictable and never ending. I mourn continuously, yet my mourning isn’t all I have. I also have peace and that peace came from a strengthened relationship with God. My relationship was strengthened through my disaster, so whenever grief comes, I acknowledge it, I accept it, yet I do not have to wallow in it. I give grief its due, then I find a way to honor H, who brought new depths to the love in my heart and in my family.
This year, when you celebrate Mother’s Day, remember the millions of women who may be really struggling with this day. If you are lucky enough to be entrusted with her story, honor her and her child by listening and being. Maybe help her research the many organizations and ways she can honor being the mother of a child no longer living, because a child carried in our hearts is equal to the child carried in our arms.