Invisible

When this post goes live on Monday, May 6th, we will be in between two significant Sundays for grieving mothers. The second Sunday in May is Mother’s Day in the US. It’s been celebrated annually since 1908 and became an official holiday in 1914. Almost 100 years later, a mother in Australia started International Bereaved Mother’s Day in honor of her stillborn son, Christian. It is commemorated on the first Sunday in May.

Few people other than mothers who have lost a child are even aware of Bereaved Mother’s Day or the date it’s observed. The timing is on purpose. Mother’s Day is hard for grieving mamas. We appreciate being acknowledged and honored in church. Depending on their age, our children treat us to brunch and flowers or gifts. Or little ones present a sweet card made in Sunday School and a box of chocolates (perhaps missing one or two pieces). If our own mother is still alive, we pamper her. Husbands may even pull from a pocket a pretty bauble all the while protesting that “she’s not my mother.” It’s a sweet and joyous time.

And yet, it’s a bittersweet day when there is an empty chair at the table and a hole in a mother’s heart. We try so hard not to dampen the celebration with tears. But, how can you not be torn when one, or more, of the people who made you a mother is no longer in this world? Part of your very being is invisible.

What if we could honor our loss, our grief, and our children in Heaven as well as celebrate our living children?

What if mothers who have suffered miscarriages and stillbirths and always left the hospital empty-handed could know that their loss is acknowledged?

What if women who have outlived all of their children could be recognized as still being mothers? They are, you know. They may not be able to touch or see or talk to their children. But, they are keenly aware that their children existed and had an impact on their lives and left a mark on their heart.

What if they were reassured that their children are remembered? Their motherhood is acknowledged? Their loss and pain are not ignored or shameful? That they are seen.

A term often used in bereaved parent groups is “pre-grieving.” In other words, when a significant date is coming up and we are scared that our grief will overwhelm us, it can be helpful to allow the emotions to be felt before the actual date. If you can set aside some time during the week to pray, to share memories with a sympathetic friend, to let yourself mourn, you may find that the special day itself is manageable.

Bereaved Mother’s Day recognizes how hard and bewildering it can be to simultaneously celebrate the joy of being a mother and mourn a missing part of your motherhood on the second Sunday in May.

Yes, Bereaved Mother’s Day is behind us now for this year. Maybe you didn’t even know you missed it. The signs, and ads, and social media posts are all about Mother’s Day coming up THIS SUNDAY. But, if you know a mother who has lost a child, it’s not too late to let her know you are thinking about her. If you knew her child, share a memory. Acknowledge her pain and mixed feelings about the upcoming holiday.

Let her know she’s not invisible.


Laura

2 responses to “Invisible”

  1. You will never be invisible. I can’t even imagine the pain and loss, but please know you are in my prayers!

    Like

Leave a reply to Laura Slone Cancel reply