I do not consider myself to be busier than any other mother I know. I’m sure we all have the same sinks piled high with dishes, the same stack of bills, and the same pick-up/drop-off schedules to coordinate. There are the same doctor’s appointments to schedule, the same load of laundry that’s been washed three times without being rolled over, and the same amount of meals to plan.
Just like any other mother, I carry the same invisible mental load. But, unlike all the other mothers my burden weighs a little heavier on the heart. There is a little extra weight for me to carry.
That’s because I carry the mental load of the grieving mother.
There are all the trips to the grocery store, except I have to prepare myself for the triggers of seeing a child who would be the same age as mine if she lived. It’s planning a 2nd birthday party for my living daughter and excusing myself to cry because I never got to do the same for her sister. I know all about the endless parade of paperwork and forms, but I have to ready myself for the questions about how many children I have and what are their ages.
I often struggle under the weight of my motherhood and my grief.
Every day I cook, clean, and plan for my living family while putting forth the extra efforts it takes to keep the memory of my dead child alive. It is exhausting to be a parent and it’s doubly exhausting to be a parent to a child whom others don’t always acknowledge.
There’s a thousand blogs and funny memes about being super mom, but it’s hard to find recognition for the super mom who is grieving.
I think that mom who’s grieving deserves some serious recognition. Honestly, all moms do, but the grieving moms deserves a little extra. She may have less diapers to change and fewer field trips to chaperone, but that’s exactly why she needs some extra love. I know that she would give anything to be even more exhausted because it would mean her baby was alive.
So, reach out to the grieving moms in your life. Give them a hug. Buy them a coffee. Just tell them they’re doing a great job.
We would do the same for our other mom friends–why would we do any less for the grieving moms we love?
These moms do it all. They are the moms who have to make their love reach further. They are the moms with arms that ache from missing babies. These moms are the ones who have to say their children’s names a little louder–not so they can come inside for dinner, but just so people remember that they exist. It’s a hard job to be a grieving mom.
Because it’s no secret that moms do it all, but grieving moms do it all with a little less.
Photo credit: Pixabay
Thank you for this one..
Even though Olivier is dead and I recently miscarried and the stress and misery of going through just another IVF pregnancy attempt is just wearing us too thin and so there might not even be a living child to add to the piles of laundry…. this piece hit home.
Please, keep on writing! You are giving me lines and sentences to dress my non-visible motherhood with.
All the best from The Netherlands, Tamara
Grieving moms have the hardest job of all moms. Functioning is hard when you’ve expected your life to turn out a certain way,
Wow, this is exactly how I feel. Thank you I needed to read this today. My daughter died at 9 days old from MRSA only a year ago and people seem to forget she lived and that I might have feelings that come up. They seem to think that already having a child means I’m all good and can carry on as normal.