Mother’s Day after miscarriage loss.

Holding my roses, and my baby at the Baby Steps Foundation event, May 2021.

Mother’s Day is one of the most difficult holidays to go through as a loss parent. You’re flooded with emotions, like self-doubt, regret, and grief anew. You’re different, and alone, in your motherhood.

Am I a mother? Was my pregnancy, baby, and motherhood real? Do I share my loss babies along with my living children?

The loneliness around miscarriage loss is heightened when you’re surrounded by friends and relatives being treated, uplifted, and spoiled on Mother’s Day. You see their posts about their children being a blessing, about the one that “made them a mom” and their cheesy handmade cards from school. You see the flowers and chocolates and breakfast in bed.

But am I a mother? Can I claim that I’m a mother, when my baby didn’t make it to my arms?

I’m here to tell you: Yes. You are a mother, and you are deserving of all the grace and love that every mom should get on Mother’s Day. You deserve the Mom’s brunch and the day to rest. You deserve to be spoiled by the ones who love you.

I use my Mother’s Day to rest, alone, usually away from my family. This gives me space to feel whatever I want to feel. Grieve my babies Future and Polly, and remember their lives and my plans, without feeling guilty or rushed.

One very special year, the Baby Steps Foundation sponsored a Mother’s Day photo session for ALL moms. It was an event where we could pose with mementos of the baby we lost, or with our families, and have beautiful family photographs taken. We were vulnerable, many of us were crying during our sessions, but the experience was so empowering. It was healing, to be surrounded by other moms and families, holding onto their missing pieces together with shaky hands.

You might feel like, if you have living children and rainbow babies, that you don’t get to grieve your losses anymore. Maybe you feel like you should leave them out, or forget them altogether. I know someone who repeatedly tells me that those pregnancies were just accidents, no need to be stuck in the past when you have beautiful healthy living children right here. And to that woman, I make sure she knows that I wouldn’t have my living children if it weren’t for my losses. I built lives around my Future, my Polly, and so did my living son who remembers his siblings, too.

He often jokes that if we had all our babies, we’d have way too many babies and we’d have to have a bigger house - but he really likes this house, so it’s okay. But he also talks about wishing he had that brother to play with, how they’d be in school together, and he could teach him how to play with Lego. The future baby brother he had planned for is real, too.

Again: You are beautiful, you are a mother, and your baby and the future you had planned is real. Celebrate you.