This weekend, we will celebrate mothers around the world. We will honor them and thank them for raising up and loving children. But what about the mothers who don’t have their children?
Six years ago, I experienced Mother’s Day in an anguished way. I left a church service that was too painful when they asked all the mothers to stand up and be honored. I spent most of the afternoon crying tears that I thought had already dried. Four days later, I found out I was expecting my first child, Charlie.
Below is my piece that I read for Listen to Your Mother Chicago. To all the mothers without a child this Sunday, I honor you.
Photo Credit :: Tiny Bubbles Photography
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Just seven short years ago, I was in the beginning stages of a journey that I never imagined I’d have to take. A surprise pregnancy that ended too soon is how our road to start a family happened. I was in the middle of law school and never realized just how desperately I wanted a baby until that first one was gone.
Fast forward two years to 2008, same month, same time of year. This time, a planned pregnancy – once again taken from us too early. I heard it all and my heart just ached. Just a few months later, I found myself pregnant for the third time and this time, a baby made his way into our hearts and home. His brother came two pregnancies later and I couldn’t help but smile in spite of our three losses. So much to be thankful for…
Throughout the time since then, I have encouraged friends and family on their road to become a mother, however bumpy it may be and this is what I would say…
You are a mother. From the moment you saw two pink lines. You are a mom. Your baby may never have made it into your arms, but lives in your heart forever.
Your baby wasn’t a mistake, an accident, or something nature “fixed.” Please take the time to grieve…you’re hurting and know that someone knows where you’ve been. You aren’t somehow less of a woman. You aren’t “broken” or a failure.
I give you permission to say no to that baby shower. To quietly pass on an occasion that while celebratory for her brings so much heartache to you. A painful reminder of all that isn’t right now.
He will grieve differently. He’s a fixer. He wants to make it better, but the truth is, in this moment, life can’t be made right. And that’s okay.
In the midst of your trials, just know I understand. I see your silent tears, your quiet pleading, and your longing.
But don’t be afraid to try again. Don’t fear that this is your forever. Look to what will be. These struggles will one day be a distant memory. As you wipe sticky floors and faces. These days of sorrow will be replaced by chubby hands and sloppy kisses.
The best is yet to be.
This is beautiful, my friend.
Aww! I love this, you have me in tears. So, so true Samantha. What an inspiration.
I am so sorry that you had to experience such heartache and sadness, Sam. I commend you for writing so beautifully and eloquently and for being so inspiring about something that isn’t (in my opinion) addressed enough. I am so proud of you and Jim for persevering and for continuing on this amazing journey of yours and I admire you for speaking about something that is obviously very painful. Thank you for sharing. <3
So beautiful.
Wish I could have seen this live. Really beautiful.
Thank you for sharing. For those of us that have walked down this road, it’s nice to know that we aren’t alone.
That’s beautiful Sam. I’m so glad that it worked out for you and that you were blessed with two beautiful children. This is so comforting and so inspiring.
Wow. This is so beautiful.
Thank you so very much for sharing. I miscarried on Monday and have been dreading Sunday. This is the inspiration and hope I’ve needed all week. From the bottom of my heart, Thank you!
Awww…I wish I could’ve seen this live. Lovely words that are sure to inspire someone <3
So many people told me your reading really spoke to them. Great job.
Loses like this hurt so very much. I loved your piece, the honesty, the loveliness of it all. It is hard to lose a baby, and even harder when the miscarriages seem to happen over and over. I dealt with it, and now I have three children. It’s amazing and wonderful. I have friends who learned they will never bear children and it’s heart-breaking to watch – wanting to fix it, wanting to make it all better, and yet we can’t. All we can do is be there and give them, as you write about, permission to grieve, to feel sad, to do what they need to for them.
I’m so thankful that you were willing to share yourself in this piece, both in writing and on stage. I know you’ve touched people I know who have been through this, and I love how they’re sharing your words with other people it would help. You done good, girl. xo
I understand all too well. We were so excited when we found out we were pregnant right before our first anniversary. I miscarried at 15 weeks. You already know about my second. Hugs to you and me. Love ya!