Being a Mom Without a Mom

home insemination Kit

Earlier this summer, I was at the park, feeding my daughter in the picnic area. As I watched my partner push our son on the swings, I noticed a young mom nearby, tending to her baby, who was about the same age as my little one. An older woman—likely her mother—was busy entertaining a boy who looked to be the same age as my son.

While my daughter drank her milk, I observed them quietly. When the baby began to fuss, the young mother, looking a bit overwhelmed, asked her mom, “What should I do?” Without missing a beat, the older woman scooped up the baby and encouraged her daughter, “Take Jake to the playground!” The young mom’s face brightened with relief, and off they went, leaving the older woman to comfort the crying infant.

In that moment, a wave of envy washed over me. I glanced at my own daughter and felt an ache in my heart. My mother passed away years ago, and while I don’t resent this young woman for having her mom, I can’t help but wish mine were here for so many reasons.

I wish my mother could have met her grandson. After spending a year in hospice care, she passed away when my son was just six weeks old. She had two daughters and adored her nephews; having a grandson would have filled her with joy. I brought my son to see her once before she died, but I can’t be sure she remembered that visit.

I wish my mother had the chance to meet her granddaughter. My little girl has a delightful spirit that mirrors her grandmother’s—she’s just as beautiful and spirited. My mom once told me she “bossed people around with a smile,” and I know she would have cherished her tiny look-alike.

I wish my mom could have brought me food after I had the babies. She was an incredible cook, able to recreate any dish just by tasting it. I can only imagine how happy she would have been to whip up something special for her new grandchild.

I wish I could have called her during those moments of panic when I was overwhelmed with the babies. She would have known exactly how to calm my fears and reassure me that everything would be alright. Instead, I found myself turning to Google, friends, and every parenting book I could find.

I long for the comfort of resting my head on my mother’s shoulder during days when I felt like a parenting failure or when loneliness crept in. No one understands you quite like a mother does.

I wish my children had an extra person in their lives who finds their quirks adorable, someone who would happily play Candy Land countless times without a hint of boredom. My mom was an artist who taught me how to draw flowers; I can see her pride as she watches my son discover his own artistic talents. I dream of them together, creating art side by side.

Most importantly, I wish I could tell my mother how much I admire her. I never grasped the strength of her character until I became a parent myself. She managed to raise two kids, keep a household running, and earn a master’s degree in clinical psychology—all while dedicating her career to helping those who needed it most.

If you’re a mom without a mom, you probably relate to this longing. It leaves a void in your heart that can never be filled. Yet, every day, as I look at my children, I feel a connection with my mother. I see her kindness reflected in my daughter’s smile and her fiery spirit in my son’s eyes. I hope she knows how proud I am to be her daughter, wherever her spirit may be.

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