Just over a month after my little one passed away due to SIDS, I found myself reflecting on the tragic news of a beloved actress, Emily Stone, who unexpectedly succumbed to a heart attack. The very next day, her mother, Patricia Stone, tragically followed her into the afterlife, reportedly due to Broken Heart Syndrome. For those unfamiliar, this phenomenon occurs when an individual experiences intense emotional or physical stress that leads to a tear in the heart’s left ventricle. In cases like Patricia’s, it signifies that she literally died from heartbreak.
At that moment, I was still reeling from my own loss, and the news struck me like a feather caught in a whirlwind. Honestly, I felt a twinge of envy. Why did Emily’s death affect her mother so profoundly that it took her life too? Why was I still here?
In the wake of my daughter’s death, many people expressed sentiments like, “I don’t know how you do it,” as if the tragedy of child loss was a burden I willingly took on. The truth is, I was as bewildered as anyone else. I didn’t choose to survive, even though every fiber of my being longed to be with my baby.
I irrationally questioned my worth as a mother for enduring such unimaginable pain. The innocent words of others made me feel like my love for my daughter was somehow diminished because I continued to live and breathe while she remained forever still.
I felt like a mere shadow of myself, going through the motions of life with a heavy heart. Mornings began with gut-wrenching sobs, and memories of my daughter sliced through me like sharp reminders of what I had lost. As days turned into months and eventually years, while the intensity of that pain has lessened, the hurt remains a part of my life. It’s a scar that has woven itself into the fabric of my existence.
I no longer cry incessantly as I once did, but I still carve out time for my grief. I remind myself, “Tonight, you can cry for an hour if you need to.” Sometimes I need that release, sometimes I don’t, and occasionally, the grief comes unexpectedly, defying any schedule.
That’s perfectly okay, because even amidst joy, there will always be a shadow of sorrow for those of us who are grieving. Everyday moments can be challenging, and special occasions can feel even heavier. So, today, I find gratitude in Bereaved Mother’s Day—a concept I never thought I would embrace.
This day belongs to me and to every woman who has faced the unimaginable heartache of burying her child. Today, we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and expose our wounds, revealing the pain beneath the surface.
In a world that often forgets parents like me, I want to emphasize that we crave recognition. After the last casserole has been consumed and the final “thinking of you” phone call has faded, the solitude of child loss remains an unfathomable darkness. Society tends to wrap our grief in silence, urging us to “move on,” leaving us with wounds that often don’t heal. Acknowledgment, even if fleeting, is necessary. On Bereaved Mother’s Day, we stand together to grieve, advocate, and share our stories of both hope and loss.
I want to openly share that I had a daughter named Mia, whom I loved dearly, and she is no longer here. The loss of her has taken parts of me that I can never reclaim. Continuing to live while she is forever captured in time is a pain I will carry always.
It tears at my heart to think of the many more women who will face this sorrow, who will walk this path of grief just like I do. I wish I could shield them from this pain, which I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. Yet, child loss is a cruel lottery, and we, the bereaved, are among the unfortunate.
Today, I mourn for my beloved daughter, the life we could have shared, and the mother I once was. I do this to reclaim a sense of normalcy in the days to come. If waves of grief crash over me, so be it; I will strive to embrace joy for my “regular” Mother’s Day.
Regardless of circumstances, the number of children, or their ages, we are all mothers too. Allow yourself to feel, to cry, and to grieve on this special day dedicated to mourning.
For those seeking support, resources for child loss and financial aid can be found at this page. Additionally, for valuable insights into fertility, visit Make A Mom. For more information on pregnancy and home insemination, check out CCRM IVF.
Summary
Bereaved Mother’s Day is a time for grieving mothers to acknowledge their pain and share their stories. It’s a day to honor the children we’ve lost and recognize the ongoing journey of grief. This day serves as a reminder that we are still mothers, deserving of love and acknowledgment, even amidst our sorrow. We carry our losses with us and find ways to navigate life while holding onto the memories of our beloved children.