To The Invisible Mother on Mother's Day | Bonus Episode
by Meg Walker
Hey Mama,
Yes, you. Mama. That’s what you are. You know that, right?
You, the one who carried life inside of her, but who now have had to say goodbye, going back home to an empty house with an empty nursery and an empty registry. You, who advocated for herself and her baby, wishing more than anything to be able to give up anything so that her child could have a place to grow and thrive and live in this world. You, whose heart broke open wide for the tiniest of persons whose name and story you’ll always remember, even if no one else does. You’re a mom. You know that, right?
Your motherhood may be invisible to the outside world, but it’s there.
And I see you in it - wondering where you fit in between the categories. Wrestling with your new identity, having brought a soul into the world, only now to have empty arms. Wondering, who am I?
I see you. I see you straddling your friend groups, no longer sure that you fit in in either place. Sure, you don’t need a babysitter for a girls’ night out, but you also have an unshakeable feeling that you should be at home caring for someone - and your clothes don’t quite fit right anymore either. Yeah, you can share in the pregnancy advice-giving and the labor storytelling, but you’re not really invited to playdates, and your heart still aches that you don’t know what it’s like to rock your little one to sleep.
I see you. I see you in how disorienting it is that your arms ache for someone and in the way you can’t go into that one room in your house and how it’s just deafeningly quiet there, anyway. In the ways your perspective on work has shifted and yet you feel aimless and directionless and tired. Sure, you’re not up nursing a baby all night long but you’re up not nursing a baby all night long. I don’t know what’s worse.
But I see you.
I see you in your strength as you remember what your body went through from the moment of conception ‘til the moment your baby left your body - too soon, or maybe, too late. But either way, not here anymore. I see the way you fought for just a moment, an hour, a day longer than you were even prepared for based on odds. I see the way, in your bravery, you continued to put one foot after the other as you left that ultrasound room and that doctor’s office and that hospital, courageously facing the next thing. I see the way you writhed in pain at home and the way your body shed blood and tears for your little one -- your little one who made a space bigger in your heart in the moments you knew about them in quicker time than anyone else ever has. And the way that you captured the essence of sacrifice and tenderness and compassion and strength… because of course you did.
Because you’re a mom.
You can hold your head high this Mother’s Day. You can recognize that mothering for some involves diapers and discipline but for all involves a fullness in your heart that is unmatched. You can acknowledge that your home is quiet (too quiet!) while also acknowledging that you bore a home, a space for nurture -- in your womb and your heart. You can embrace the tension that is mothering -- all the joys and all the hardships -- because you’ve experienced them too.
We all know the strength of motherhood. The endurance, the patience, the compassion, the love. You embody them all.
To the Invisible Mom on Mother’s Day, know this -
This day is for you, too.
I love you. I see you. You are not alone.
xo,
Your mom friend
In the trenches
Raising my glass to you this Mother’s Day
PS. Because we believe so deeply that you are not alone, we’ve created some beautiful items in our Shop to visibly remind you of this truth. Pass your wishlist along to a friend or splurge on some items yourself as a meaningful celebration of your motherhood.
Mother’s Day Resources
for the bereaved mother