MOTHERHOOD AFTER A STILLBIRTH
Am I a mother? Yes. But it feels different.
My motherhood journey looks very different in comparison to the “norm”. I parent in absence. I parent in a non-typical manner. I parent a child who isn’t earthside. How do I do this? Lol, well I’m still figuring it out.
Motherhood looks different for everyone. Everyone has their own parenting style, their own rule book. There isn’t a right or wrong way to raise a child, and that’s what makes us all so unique. Childhood is what begins to shape us. We rely heavily on our parents or guardians to show us right from wrong. To teach us values. To take us on adventures. To guide us through this crazy world. To raise us.
But for me, motherhood isn’t about raising my Son. It’s not about going on playdates or throwing birthday parties. It’s not about setting a bedtime or figuring out how much is too much sugar. It’s not about potty training or dropping him off at university. It’s not about waking up on mother’s day to breakfast in bed, and a messy kitchen to clean up afterwards. It’s not the norm.
Often people around me tell me ‘you’re such a good mother’ or ‘you’re the best mother’ or ‘you’re an amazing mother’ or my all time favorite ‘you’re still a mother.’ I honestly don’t know how to respond. Yes, of course I am a mother, but do I feel like one? Hmmm that’s a tough question. I want to feel like one, of course I do. But my motherhood journey seems so unconventional, it’s hard to feel like a stereotypical mom figure.
This reality of mine is about trying to figure out what motherhood looks like for me, in my particular situation, after the stillbirth. It’s a constant struggle learning how to parent in absence. Figuring out how to be a mom to my Son in heaven.
I remember the first time I heard the phrase ‘parenting in absence.’ It was at one of the very first sessions we had with our therapist. She said to us “Your Son isn’t physically here, but you need to learn how to parent in absence.” I was so confused. What does that even mean. How am I supposed to parent Zade when he isn’t physically here. It wasn’t until a month later that I finally realized what she meant. I had carried Zade for 40 weeks. I gave birth to him. I became his mother. And I can continue to be his mother, in whatever way feels right to me. So for me, six months into motherhood, it’s about cherishing Zade’s memory, it’s about honoring him, it’s about finding ways to include him in our daily lives. These are the ways I choose to parent in absence. And I hope that in the days and years to come that I’ll learn more ways to parent Zade. More ways to feel like his mother.
A week ago, on May 1st, was bereaved mothers day, and I really boycotted it. I refused to believe that we, as bereaved mothers, have to celebrate a week before mothers day. We’re still mothers aren’t we? So why is there a separate day? Why? I really was opposed to it, almost offended. And then yesterday, mothers day rolled around, and guess what? It was probably one of the hardest days. I cried a lot. I truly felt like I didn’t fit into the box. Like I was an outsider. I realized that even though I am a mother, the grim truth is that I am a bereaved mother. I lost a child. I most definitely will be honoring bereaved mothers day next year. It’s the category I fit into. I had completely missed the point of it. Bereaved mothers day is not a seperate day, it’s a day in addition to mothers day where we get to honor the mothers who have lost a child. Where we get to honor our journeys. Where we get to feel like we fit into a box, and recognize that we aren’t walking alone. It’s a beautiful tribute, and I wish I realized that sooner.
So to all the bereaved mothers out there, wishing you a beautiful belated bereaved mothers day. I see you. I hear you. I am you.
And to all the mothers out there, whether your child is earthside or heavenside, happy mothers day. I also see you. I also hear you. I also am you.
Lastly, to my dearest Son, Zade. Thank you for making me a mother.
