Your cart is currently empty!
Life as a Former Mother: A Reflection on Loss and Longing
Each morning, I awaken with dreams of my daughters. Though I am not classified as an empty nester, my children are not grown; they are simply absent from my life. I did not lose them to a tragic accident or illness. As far as I am aware, they are thriving. However, they do not reside with me, and I have not seen them for over two and a half years.
This raises an important question: Am I still a mother? Can one still hold the title of “mother” when separated from their children? When unable to engage in daily routines, offer comfort, or celebrate milestones? The absence of these experiences has led me to label myself a “former mother.”
When asked if I have children, I often find myself at a loss for words. Most of the time, I simply say yes, opting to maintain the facade of a typical mom. The truth is too complicated for casual conversation. I certainly won’t divulge that I lost custody due to a regrettable altercation with my ex-husband. For the record, I have never harmed him, our daughters, or anyone else.
Before the fallout, I had joint custody and was deeply involved in their lives—PTA meetings, school events, and everyday activities. I thrived on that involvement. In a few months, my daughters will celebrate their 13th and 10th birthdays. I will miss these significant milestones, just as I have missed the past two years of their lives. Their stepmother has already guided my oldest through her first experiences of adolescence, while my youngest has begun her musical journey with braces and a violin. Although I receive occasional updates and rare photographs from my mother during her visits, it is not enough. I yearn to reclaim my role as their mother—not just a former one.
The dreams I experience nightly often share a similar theme: I find myself in various locations, desperately seeking their attention, even knowing the risks involved. In these dreams, I cherish brief moments of hugging them and feeling their warm faces, whether they appear as they are now or in younger forms. Waking up in my empty house, I long for those dreams to become reality.
Recently, I caught a glimpse of my daughters while visiting a local middle school for my fiancé’s son’s basketball game. It was sheer coincidence—there was no reason for them to be there. Spotting them sent my heart racing; my instinct was to rush to them, as I do in my dreams, and hold them tightly. But my fiancé stopped me, reminding me that I couldn’t approach them. I sat in shock as they walked away, shaking and devastated. “They were right there,” I murmured, while he could only respond in empathetic acknowledgment. That fleeting moment was the closest I had been to them in two years, and it was from a distance.
I often fantasize about encountering them in public spaces, perhaps at the grocery store or a shopping center, but our paths rarely cross anymore. The only dream I ever held for myself was to be a mother. While some aspire to be doctors or artists, my sole desire was motherhood.
Now, engaged to a wonderful man, I contemplate starting anew and having children with him. I became a mother at 25, but at 38, I wonder if it’s too late to embark on that journey again. Moreover, how could I justify bringing new children into the world when I cannot even see the two I have? This internal conflict amplifies my longing for my daughters. The identity of a former mother weighs heavily on me, leaving me feeling empty, lonely, and heartbroken. I wish for a way to change my circumstances, but all I have are my dreams.
For more insights on navigating motherhood and family dynamics, explore this article. If you are considering starting a family, Make a Mom offers a comprehensive guide on home insemination kits. Additionally, the Fertility Center at Johns Hopkins provides excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
This narrative explores the profound emotional struggle of a woman who identifies as a former mother after losing custody of her children. While she dreams of her daughters and longs to participate in their lives, she grapples with the complexities of her situation, reflecting on her identity and the hope of reconnecting with them in the future.