Hi. Aye. This tender, tender time of Mother’s Day. The commercials and ads miss so many of us… and I speak to those of us mothers who have lost a baby. Those of us who had other plans for celebrating today with a baby growing, alive and well in our bellies, those of us planning on our first Mother’s Day with our baby in our arms, those of us who had been counting on our family to look much different than it does, and those of us who were once filled with naive hope, joy and love that our path to motherhood would look so different than it is today.
The sheer agony of this time, this day. The pain, the heartache, the loss. It’s real. It sits in our hearts and souls, in the very places we hold our child(ren). This loss is deep, gut wrenching, heart breaking.
So what can we “do”? How do we tolerate this pain? How do we “fix” it? Honestly? We don’t. There is no fixing, or getting over it, or moving on. Instead, we welcome the feelings of dread, of separation, of feeling left out. We let them in so we don’t disown a part of ourself, and our family. We remember our babies however we want to and need to. If you’re crying on Mother’s Day, then you’re crying. If you’re feeling grateful or happy, then you’re grateful and happy. If you need to be alone, be alone. If you need to gather in the company of family and friends, then create this gathering of your community. Do what you need to do. You have my permission (just in case you haven’t given yourself permission yet). Welcome your feelings, experiences and thoughts just as they are. Without a message of shame, guilt, or doubt. (Often easier said than done, I know. I get it.). Welcome them in, feel them in your body, and see what happens. Personally, I have found that when I let my experience unfold as it is, without my judgements of how it *should* be, it moves through me. I feel the feeling, without my story, and it changes. Yet, when I add my stories of doubt, shame, guilt and “supposed-to’s”, then I get stuck. I ruminate. My wheels spin. Over and over and over again. I welcome you to give this a try. Be curios. Be gentle. Be kind.
While we mourn the death of our child(ren), I celebrate you. In all your gritty, messy, wondering how you’ll ever survive this state of mind and being. I welcome you, exactly as you are in this movement. You are an amazing mother. And you’re doing this.
And please know that you don’t have to do this alone. We are not meant to grieve in isolation. We are wired for connection, and need connection. If you live in the area, I am available to schedule sessions to support you on this journey. You may call me at 303.502.4867. If you’re not local, please check out my miscarriage and baby loss page to see some national resources/websites.