Recently, I attended a baby shower for a close friend who is expecting her first child. At the shower, I found myself finally being able to contribute to the “mom” conversations.
I was able to talk about actively mothering my twin daughters. I could add to the daycare conversations, the things-needed-for-a-new-mother conversations, the birth conversations, and everything in between.
For the first time, I didn’t feel left out.
I didn’t feel like an imposter amongst the mothers.
However, I’ve been a mother for a lot longer than just these past two months to my twin daughters.
Depends on how you look at it, but really I have been a mother since April 2016 when I got my first positive pregnancy test.
One miscarriage and one stillbirth later, I was still a mother, just one with empty arms.
Now my arms are overflowing with babies, and my motherhood is acknowledged by the outside world.
Related: I Am A Bereaved Mother
Prior to the birth of my daughters, people would share their birthing stories with me like it was my first time having a child.
However, I had given birth to my daughters’ older brother only 18 months prior. I knew what it was like to deliver a child.
I also knew what it was like to experience the deafening silence of birthing a child who was no longer alive.
My experience was similar to that of “normal” mothers but also vastly different.
I left the hospital empty-handed.
After losing Asher, I felt like an imposter being around other mothers who didn’t know loss. They would share their stories about pregnancies, birth, and raising children.
I would try to contribute by sharing my experiences, but it was usually met with a complete change in the tone of the conversation or topic.
Bringing up the fact that you experienced pregnancy and birth, only for your child to die isn’t exactly something people want to hear. They don’t want to know that babies die.
It’s almost like your experience is contagious and should not be discussed.
Related: This Is Forever: Living Side By Side With Grief
Now when I share my experience of raising my twin daughters, there is no change in the tone or topic of conversation.
I am able to contribute just like any other “normal” mom. I can talk about the normal “mom” topics without feeling like a leper, like the loss of my son will contaminate others.
However, I still feel slightly uncomfortable because I am unable to share the myriad of emotions that come with raising children after the loss of one.
It’s not something they can relate to and, again, not something that people, who haven’t experienced that loss, want to think about.
Having and losing Asher changed me.
I don’t think that I will ever fully feel comfortable around “non-loss” mothers because I am not one of them.
I am a loss mother, who is navigating the road of parenting after losing a child.
Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash
Amy Lied is a wife and a mother to her son, Asher, who was inexplicably born still on February 19th, 2017 and twin daughters. Before losing Asher, she suffered a miscarriage and struggled with unexplained infertility. She has documented her journey from the beginning of her infertility struggles on her blog, Doggie Bags Not Diaper Bags. She is also a co-founder of The Lucky Anchor Project , an online resource for loss families that houses an Etsy store whose profits are donated to loss family non-profit organizations. She hopes to help others by sharing her journey as she continues to navigate the bumpy road that is life after loss.
Thank you for sharing this .
My daughter Shiri was stillborn January 6, 2018 .
As a single mom by choice, I had a hard time “owning” my motherhood, and thought joining some online groups for SMCs would help … although the group was welcoming, I felt like I either had nothing to contribute, or that anything I did share was met with awkward silence . I ended up leaving the groups after only a few months … maybe when I have a second child, I’ll be able to rejoin .
So sorry for the loss of Shiri. It’s so hard to be a bereaved mother. ❤️
Thank you for sharing, Amy. I am sorry to hear about your loss of your little boy, Asher. Heartbreaking. I lost my little girl, Frances, in July 2017.
Although I love hearing about your finally being able to talk to other moms about your Rainbow babies, how does one get through if they don’t have any more children, or have never given birth to a live child? We still have deal with and somehow integrate into the Mom conversations. They are everywhere. Usually, I just walk away or act like I have to do something. I don’t know how to cope with flag’s coming up all the time. Especially since I am in a very social career with networking and women events.
Thanks for sharing and congratulations on your arms overflowing with beautiful twins. It gives me hope that someday I might have the same even though I am almost 44 now.
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I am so sorry for the loss of your precious baby boy. I am a grieving mother, too. I lost my precious boy in 2016 to colon cancer when he was 35 years old. I don’t usually comment or share but I felt compelled to reach out to you because i too have felt the disconnect from non- loss mothers…i usually just sit there quietly & listen as they talk, complain, or brag about their teens or young adult children and when I try to join everyone gets quiet, awkward, or changes the subject. Also, our boys share a birthday, February 19th. I cherish every single moment i had with him, so blessed to be his mom, miss him so much. I’m so sorry you didn’t have that time with your sweet boy. I hope you can surround yourself with people that allow you to remember your baby, now & forever.