Mother’s Day Pain

Late Saturday night, my little family was driving home from a fun weekend in Ponca City, OK. We left at Abigail’s bedtime and had been on the road for a few hours. It was around 11:30pm and we were driving down a dark and empty stretch of Kansas road filled with spotty internet connection. Things were quiet in the car. Abigail was asleep in the back, the radio was turned down{although, I think we were actually listening to the very first mix CD I ever made for Jim. Retro!}
I stumbled upon this blog post from Liz Marie Galvan. If you haven’t read it already, please do. This girl has the kindest and sweetest heart that just permeates every word she writes.
A small excerpt:
“To all the moms with babies in heaven,
 Today on Mother’s Day you might feel a little sting in your heart. You may long for those sweet babies that were taken away so soon. You may feel a little empty even as you hold your children that are here on earth. I wanted to wish you a happy Mother’s day from your sweet babies in heaven today. You are their momma & they love you so. They are now in a better place perfect, happy, healthy, & celebrating you, their mommy, with our heavenly father.”
In the dark and quiet of that Kansas road, the grief and weight of my loss hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn’t even put together the reality that this would be my first Mother’s Day with 8 extra little ones who belonged to me.
Last year, they were only a hope. A dream. They didn’t exist yet. But this year, they do.
I wasn’t in any way, shape, or form prepared for the reality of that and it caught me so off guard that I couldn’t do anything but weep to Jim over the hurt that made me physically ache.
That sweet husband of mine silently reached over and held my hand as tightly as possible the entire rest of our drive home.

{the grammar of this pin drives me crazy, but I still love it}

This Mother’s Day was absolutely bittersweet. I have a little girl who made me a Mama 3.5 years ago. We’ve been celebrating my motherhood for years now. But this year had such an unexpected addition to it for me. Which, seems really silly, in a way that it caught me off guard. I think about those little lives on a daily basis. Their memory lives on my foot. Every day I look down and count every single one of those little seeds. one two three four five six seven eight. They’re all there.

My loss is twofold. Or triplefold. I deal with my infertility, every single day. Every single month. That is a grief of it’s own. Then there is the loss of the 6 embryo babies that we so desperately wanted to keep forever and the confusing mystery of life that begins and lives so early on. Then there is the loss of the 2 babies that I carried and got a positive pregnancy test from and felt the painful physical loss of.

I couldn’t help but picture the two little babies that I should have been scrambling to get ready and out the door for church Sunday morning. How I should have been wrangling three little faces around my lilac bush to celebrate my day with. How bags under my eyes and pooch in my belly and falling out hair all should be a part of who I am right now.

But it isn’t.

They aren’t here anymore.
They’re someplace better. And I so, so, so look forward to the day that I get to meet them all one by one. Gah, it gets me all excited just thinking about it. But, since today isn’t that day, it still takes my breath away with how much I love and miss them.

If you know someone who has lost a baby or is longing to be a Mama on this holiday, maybe consider sending her a card or giving her an extra big hug the next time you see her. I promise you, Sunday was a hard day.


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  1. I appreciate this post so much. The more people I get to know the more I learn about mamas' struggles with infertility and loss. I'm so happy that so many blogs address this. As a mama to an angel as well, this topic is close to my heart.

  2. I thought of you and your sweet babies more than once on Sunday. My heart truly hurts that Sunday was painful for you, but I rejoice that someday you are going to hold those precious babies again. Praising God for that BEAUTIFUL little Abigail and all the joy that she brings to you and Jim. Thank you for the encouragement to reach out to other mommies who are struggling with this-what a tangible way to encourage another friend in love!

  3. You are right, Sunday was hard. Every Mothers Day, Fathers Day, end of school, beginning of school, take your child to work day, grandparents day, every holiday, Halloween, it all hurts. There's never one of those days that my heart doesn't ache for having to live without.

  4. I can't even imagine what you are feeling and going through, but I wanted to comment anyway. The way you write about your babies, you can tell how much love you have for them. Your tattoo is so beautiful and is a way for them to be with you always. I have not lost a baby, but I did lose my mom, so while a very different situation, I too know the feeling of loss on Mother's Day. Thinking of you! xo

  5. I always think about those who lost babies or who can't have them on Mother's Day. It's a lovely holiday but also can be sad for many. So sorry you've had to experience loss like this.

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