Dear Mom Who's Not a Mom
11:00 AM
Dear Mom Who's Not a Mom,
You are still a mom. As much as those words may sting or ache, or not even feel real to you, let them sink in. You are a mom. Maybe you never tucked your baby in or kissed them goodnight. Maybe you never picked out baby clothes or even a name. Maybe your arms never felt them, eyes never beheld them, and ears never heard them.
Perhaps you only knew that little one existed just as it was fading away. Maybe you didn't even realize what was happening until it was over. Perhaps after labor, instead of welcoming a new life into your arms, you were left with one, single word...miscarriage.
There's a stigma on us, the walking wounded, and well we know it. Mothers Day isn't for us. What have we done to earn it? When did we stay up all hours of the night feeding and taking care of a squawking little person? When did we ever teach them their ABC's or drop them off for their first day at school? We haven't known the discipline or the joy of motherhood. And yet we know its deepest sorrow, the loss of a child.
Perhaps, you weren't trying to conceive and weren't even sure if you wanted to be a mom. Or perhaps, you were the little girl who played with baby dolls and had been waiting for this your whole life. Either way, you lost a person. It may make other people feel better to say it was only a clump of cells, or there was something really wrong with the baby, so it was better this way, but your grieving heart knows the truth better than anyone else can. That little life was just as important as anyone else's. That little future that was snatched away, oh so young, was real; so is your grief.
The terrible thing about this kind of loss is no grave to visit and very little recognition that someone has died. You were the only one that knew that person as they grew inside you. Unfortunately, we live in a world where a breakup is often treated more seriously than a miscarriage. And how can anyone offer comfort for a loss they barely aknowledge?
Let me remind you, when no one else does, God sees. He was there crying with you as you went through agony and lost that life. He was there as that child was formed and He was there as it passed away. In fact, He is with your child now. And I truly believe, you have the chance to meet that person face to face. He knows their gender, their personality, and what they love. He knows if they are a dog person or a cat person or if they love the color pink above all else. He is raising your child with a more perfect childhood than they ever could have had on earth. You can take comfort in the fact that they have the most perfect Father and will have skipped all the hard parts of this life and have gotten into the good bit.
And yet, it's still hard. The grief may hit you at the most unexpected times. Maybe it's when you're walking through a shop and see that perfect little onsie and realize you have no one to bring it home to. Maybe it's when you see your friends turn into amazing mothers and you know you haven't had that chance. Maybe it's when you hear a kids' soccer game in full swing and wish you had someone to root for and cheer on. The truth is, there are so many losses. Miscarriage is not a one time event, it is a sorrow that echoes through your life.
Your loss matters. If there's one thing I learned from my miscarriage, it was that so many women are walking through the same grief and often we are silent. It is a deep sorrow and not something to be chatted about lightly. It was probably traumatic. And then there is the shame. Isn't this what you're meant to be able to do as a woman? To carry a child? These thoughts are often accompanied by fear. What if it happens again?
You are not alone. What you're going through isn't insignificant. I want to say to you again, God sees. God is with your child now. And God can Father you as you walk through this grief. He hasn't put down the pen and He's not finished with your story yet.
To the Mom Who's Not a Mom....you are a mom.
0 comments
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.