A Letter to the Invisible Mom
Dear Mama,
Yes, you. Having someone else other than yourself refer to you as mom can sometimes take us by surprise. Our breath inhales sharply, our stomach somersaults, and our hearts swell. But of course, you are a mom. Even if there are no immediate, outwardly visible markers of your motherhood – no car seat, no stroller, no toys strewn about the house – you are and always will be a mom. To your baby you are Mom, Mama, Mommy. The best title you could ever ask for.
Losing your first and only child can feel extra layered and emotional. Because while you know in your heart who you are and the love you have for your baby, the outside world may not. Well-meaning small talk can feel like land mines exploding in our hearts. Friends with living children suddenly seem so foreign. We are the same- we are both moms- but we are also completely different. Because instead of worrying about sleep schedules and daycare, you worry about preserving memories and mementos. Instead of changing diapers and figuring out feeding schedules, you have to figure out how to just survive. How to live on this side without your baby here in your arms.
Losing your baby is the worst thing that could happen. In the beginning, every day is completely unbearable. Eventually, and there’s no time table as to when, you find the guttural cries and complete devastation subsiding for longer increments in between grief attacks. You start to string together minutes, then hours, then maybe a day or two where you can just function. When you lose your first there’s an extra stillness that sets in. The house is too quiet, the nursery is too perfectly put together, you walk around imagining what should have been. You have all this love for your baby, and yet your baby is not here with you. Your body physically aches to take care of your baby, and yet your baby is not here with you. The longing you have for your baby will never diminish; it will never subside. You will just get better at carrying it.
At some point, you have a decision to make. You have to decide how you want to live in honor of your baby. And while there’s no right answer, I have found that when I focus on the love I have for my baby and I let that be the guiding emotion for my day, I feel more connected to her, more willing to trust God’s plan, more at peace knowing my baby is fully healed and fully alive in heaven. When I lead with love, I am better able to have grace, kindness, and compassion for others, as well as for myself. The love I have for my daughter makes me want to be the best version of myself I can be, for her, just as I would have if she were here in my arms.
Our love is what connects us to our babies and always will. The love a mother has for their child is infinite, it transcends time and space. So, this month, this Mother’s Day, and every day, my wish for you is that you’re able to focus on the love. Of course there are so many triggers, and firsts, and milestones that will come up on any given day. That will never go away. But the love, the deep love for your baby is always there. It’s in every prayer, in every journal page, in every picture hung, in every story read, in every candle lit, in every flower planted. It’s there. You will never move on, but you will move forward. And your baby will be right there with you, forever on your mind and always in your heart.
With love,
A Mama who understands.