Mother's Day when you are infertile - It sucks!
Hello everyone,
I hope that when you read this post, you are safe and healthy. We are not yet out of the woods, so remember to wash your hands, not touch your face and stop the spread of Covid-19.
Mother's Day is no longer painful for me because of our kids. But when we did not have the kids, I dreaded Mother's Day. Actually, I dreaded going to Mass because the priest would always have a blessing for Moms - but never asked those who had lost children through miscarriage to stand up.
Each year, I would sit next to him and tears would stream down my cheeks. My husband would hold my hand and tell me that he loved me. Inside, I was dying. I felt as though I was unworthy, to God's eyes, to be a Mom. It was such torture and it was never easy.
Then, one day, while I was attending at Mass during a work conference, the priest asked all women who had lost a child through miscarriage to come up and receive a blessing. I was shocked but went up. As I, along with other brave Moms who had also lost their children, was receiving my blessing, tears streamed down my face until I broke out sobbing. I was crying because, for the first time, I was being acknowledged as a Mom. I was also crying because I was the Mom without a child by her side. It was a bittersweet moment, but it meant so much to me.
It's hard to think of Mass as something painful, but on that particular day, it would bring such stress and anxiety. I knew what was to come and I could not stop it. And although you know that you are not the only one present at Mass that has suffered a miscarriage - it feels as though you are. Infertility is such a quiet, broken and often, forgotten pain.
If you are in this situation, know that I fully understand your pain. I know what it feels like - even to this day. This Mother's Day, I reached out to two of my friends that have lost children through miscarriage. They were so thankful that they were not forgotten.
During times of great sadness, it is hard to see that there will be light again. To all of you who are infertile, know that the pain will never leave but it will get easier.
If you wish to share your story, please do and let's build our community.
Remember to wash your hands, not touch your face and stop the spread of Covid-19.
SM
I hope that when you read this post, you are safe and healthy. We are not yet out of the woods, so remember to wash your hands, not touch your face and stop the spread of Covid-19.
Mother's Day is no longer painful for me because of our kids. But when we did not have the kids, I dreaded Mother's Day. Actually, I dreaded going to Mass because the priest would always have a blessing for Moms - but never asked those who had lost children through miscarriage to stand up.
Each year, I would sit next to him and tears would stream down my cheeks. My husband would hold my hand and tell me that he loved me. Inside, I was dying. I felt as though I was unworthy, to God's eyes, to be a Mom. It was such torture and it was never easy.
Then, one day, while I was attending at Mass during a work conference, the priest asked all women who had lost a child through miscarriage to come up and receive a blessing. I was shocked but went up. As I, along with other brave Moms who had also lost their children, was receiving my blessing, tears streamed down my face until I broke out sobbing. I was crying because, for the first time, I was being acknowledged as a Mom. I was also crying because I was the Mom without a child by her side. It was a bittersweet moment, but it meant so much to me.
It's hard to think of Mass as something painful, but on that particular day, it would bring such stress and anxiety. I knew what was to come and I could not stop it. And although you know that you are not the only one present at Mass that has suffered a miscarriage - it feels as though you are. Infertility is such a quiet, broken and often, forgotten pain.
If you are in this situation, know that I fully understand your pain. I know what it feels like - even to this day. This Mother's Day, I reached out to two of my friends that have lost children through miscarriage. They were so thankful that they were not forgotten.
During times of great sadness, it is hard to see that there will be light again. To all of you who are infertile, know that the pain will never leave but it will get easier.
If you wish to share your story, please do and let's build our community.
Remember to wash your hands, not touch your face and stop the spread of Covid-19.
SM
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