‘Don’t Ever Doubt You Are a Mother’

By Nina Bennett -

In a monumental moment of synchronicity, I was present the night my beloved granddaughter was born still. She slid into this world without drawing a breath, following a full-term, healthy pregnancy and normal, though long, labor. In a poignant moment, Jennifer, my daughter-in-law, looked at me and quietly asked, “So am I a mother or aren’t I?” With her question, my heart broke all over again. Later, Jenn told me how she resented not having the chance to parent her daughter.

Oh, but Jenn, you did parent your daughter. Not in the way you dreamed of, certainly. The act of parenting involves nurturing your child and tending to her needs.

Your daughter received unconditional love from the very first moment. You tended to her needs throughout your pregnancy. You carefully researched your prenatal care options, choosing a practice with nurse midwives because of their philosophy toward pregnancy and birth. You were actively involved in your pregnancy, taking yoga classes to deal with stress and physical discomforts. You read everything you could get your hands on about fetal development. You paid attention to your changing body and respected the fact that these changes were in response to your baby’s growth. A vegetarian, you were vigilant about ensuring that your baby received the proper nutrients for her development.

Together, you and Tim selected the birthing suite where you wanted to welcome your child. The plans for the birth were made with love. Every step of the way, each decision you made was based on love and concern for your baby-the absolute hallmarks of parenting. You chose a car seat after examining safety ratings. The furniture you selected for the nursery was not only lovely, it was useful-the crib would convert into a single bed, so the furniture would transition as your child grew older. In every decision you made, your baby came first.

I believe that the ultimate goal of parenting is to prepare your child to leave the protection of her home. While we never expected this to occur in the manner it did, you accomplished this with an amazing show of grace. As she left your body you touched her, not knowing that the guidance you were providing was all the guidance she would ever need.

Maddy knew the certainty and warmth of unconditional love throughout your pregnancy with her. Your daughter knew the intensity and depth of your love during her delivery and for the hours afterward, when you held and rocked and talked to her.  Although the atmosphere of serenity you had planned was temporarily abandoned when it was discovered that Maddy had no heartbeat, the quiet and dignity you desired returned once the medical necessities were completed.

Please don’t ever doubt that you are a mother. You are a mother in the truest, most selfless sense. Bereft, yes, but truly a mother. Your arms may be empty but your heart is overflowing. The love you have for your daughter lives on in your actions and your determination that she not be forgotten. You approach relationships with increased warmth and a heightened sense of connection.  So much was taken from you on November 12, 2003, but one fact will never change - forever and always, you will be Maddy’s Mommy.

© copyright 2006 Nina Bennett

Death of a Child: ‘Unfinished Motherhood’

By Clara Hinton -

When child-loss occurs, a mother goes through a difficult time of emotional turmoil and questioning. “Am I still a mother?” “Does my child still have a birthday each year, or does time stand still?” “Can the mother/child relationship continue to grow, or am I now an ‘unfinished mother’?”

Losing a child often places a mother on a road that begins a lonelier journey than ever expected-one that can never really be explained. There was a beginning, but with the death of the child, there is no middle and no end. Everything seems so unfinished. Hopes and dreams were stopped far too soon. Joy was snatched away so suddenly. A mother is left with empty arms and an empty heart. Nothing can ever be complete when a child’s life ends.

When the death of a child occurs, a mother may suddenly feel inadequate and incomplete. She wears a new name. She may feel an “unfinished mother,” never being able to see the rest of the picture. She will never be able to watch her child mature into a young adult. She will never be able to see all the pieces fit together. The picture will always have part of the scenery missing. It is so painful to be an unfinished mother! Child loss makes everything seem so empty and incomplete.

There will come a critical point in this journey of grief when a mother must reach deep into her inner resources and make a conscious decision to accept herself just as she is-a mother whose heart has been touched by the pain and grief of child-loss. Only then can she start to put together some of the broken pieces and begin to feel like there will be a day when she will feel more like a complete mother than an unfinished mother.

A mother is never “unfinished.” No matter how brief her time was with her child, the bond of love between mother and child was complete. A mother’s love for her child is unending. Dreams may shatter and circumstances may change, but a mother’s love remains strong. As a mother travels the path to healing, it is important for her to remind herself often that she is a mother forever. Her motherhood did not stop when her child died. This understanding of motherhood releases the feelings of guilt and failure and allows a mother to begin to see herself as a whole person again-a complete mother.

A mother is never an “unfinished mother.” A mother’s love runs far too deep for that!

While experiencing the blessing of living children, Clara has also felt the pain of losing six children due to miscarriage, and has delivered one stillborn son.  Knowing the grief of child loss first-hand prompted Clara to write a book, Silent Grief, as well as begin a grief support website, www.silentgrief.com, for parents seeking support while going through the pain of loss. Contact Clara at chinton@wpia.net or visit the Silent Grief website.

Suggestions for a Well-Deserved Mother’s and Father’s Day

By Cathi Lammert -

Often times Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are two of the most difficult days for bereaved parents. Some have told me that these days are so painful that they are not able to even acknowledge it for their own mom or dad, and they celebrate with their parents on a different day. Over the years, parents have looked at me with tear-filled eyes and asked me “Am I really a parent if my baby is not here with me?”

I equate parenthood with love; the greatest kind of love. Does love stop when a baby dies? Of course not! You will always be your child/ren’s parent. No one can take this role away from you.

You may question whether you have the right to celebrate or be remembered on these days, but a parent’s love needs to be acknowledged and celebrated. If you can’t imagine joining the rest of the world in the typical activities of celebration, do something different or not at all. But also know, that even without your precious baby in your arms, you are parents and parenthood can be celebrated as you choose. Whatever you choose to do on these days, know that it is okay if it feels right to you.

The following suggestions are some ways to celebrate your parenthood on these difficult days:

* Acknowledge that you are parents.

* Be gentle with yourselves. Do only what you can handle. 

*Acknowledge that this day could be difficult and determine how you can comfortably spend the day.

*Alert yourself to the most difficult challenges of the day, such as attention given to moms and dads at church. Some parents have talked to their clergy about the importance of recognizing all parents at these celebrations.

*Family gatherings may make you feel uncomfortable. Discuss this with your family and let them know that you appreciate their love and support, but that you may not be able to attend or manage your composure throughout the entire day. Assure them that these feelings will not be forever.

*Plan ahead. Waiting until the last minute can cause frustration and hurt feelings.

*Share with family and friends how they can help make your day a special one. Sometimes they need specific suggestions, such as sending you a card, flowers, or a donation to Share or another favorite charity in your baby’s name.

*Treat yourselves to a special gift, an outing, or flowers. Send each other cards for these special days.

*Remember your baby by lighting a candle, placing a rose on the alter or dinner table, or planting a tree or bush.

It is important to tell others what you need. Do not assume that everyone will be aware of how you are feeling on these days. Being aware in advance that certain situations may be difficult, such as family gatherings or church services, allows you the opportunity to plan accordingly. If you’ve been asked to do something that makes you uncomfortable, listen to your heart. For some, spending the day in bed with the covers pulled up, or on the couch watching movies, might be the right thing. Be sensitive to your own feelings and needs, and above all, know that you are parents.

Cathi Lammert, R.N., is Executive Director of the National Office of SHARE Pregnancy and Infant Loss Support, Inc. www.nationalshare.org.  As a bereaved parent, Cathi combines her personal experience with her education and professional background as an obstetrical nurse. Her son, Christopher Michael lived just 4 days and died due to Hydrops Fetalis, a complication of Rh sensitization.  Cathi was a guest on the radio show Healing the Grieving Heart with Dr. Gloria & Dr. Heidi Horsley, to discuss Finding Help and Hope After Pregnancy Loss.  To hear Cathi being interviewed on this show, click on the following link:  www.voiceamericapd.com/health/010157/horsley011509.mp3  For more information, you can e-mail Cathi at:  clammert@nationalshare.org

Mother’s Day Flowers

By Beth Seyda -

It was back in 1998 that I was finally eligible to celebrate my first Mother’s Day.  Our first child, Dylan, had been born in the fall of 1997 after many years of fertility issues.  But when that May holiday came around, one that I had longed to be a part of, it was a bitter-sweet day.  Yes, I was a mother, but now without a child.  Our sweet baby lived for only two weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit and died peacefully in our arms. 

I struggled that first Mother’s Day - I wanted to celebrate, I had been so happy being a mom to Dylan while I was pregnant with him and during his brief life.  I wanted to honor our mother-son relationship, even though the pain from the loss was still palpable. 

I recalled how others had supported us and what I found comforting.  Family and friends had given us numerous plants, bushes, and flowers in memory of Dylan which were growing outside in our front and back yards.  It’s an understatement that I do not have a green thumb, so I welcomed the beautiful daffodils, crocus, azalea and butterfly bushes that were now blooming.  I loved being outdoors and admiring Mother Nature’s miracles.  With Dylan’s birth and death occurring only weeks from each other, being reminded of the circle of life connected with me.

So, on my first Mother’s Day I started what has become an annual ritual: planting flowers (usually hardy geraniums) in clay pots that adorn our back deck.  Getting my hands into the dirt and helping these flowers take root and thrive continue to be healing as I reflect upon how Dylan nourished my soul and helped me become a mom. 

There were many tears as I planted flowers those first Mother’s Days.  But it always brought me such joy to see the fruits of my labors as the spring unfolded into summer and fall, and as I watched hummingbirds gather nectar from these flowers. 

Now, many years later and mother to 7-year old Tyler, this Mother’s Day I will once again be out on our deck planting flowers - proudly and gratefully remembering all our children. 

Beth Seyda’s life was transformed in 1997 with the birth and death of her critically ill newborn son, Dylan.  She combines her 25+ years of professional experience in consumer research with her personal experience as Co-Founder and Executive Director of Compassionate Passages, Inc. The mission of her non-profit organization is to give a voice to pediatric patients and their families through advocacy, education, and research with the goal of improving pediatric end-of-life care and providing support to dying children and their families.  Compassionate Passages donates the book Empty Cradle, Broken Heart: Surviving the Death of Your Baby to bereaved families. 

Beth lives in Chapel Hill, N.C., with her husband, Mark, and their 7-year old son, Tyler.  To learn more about Beth’s non-profit organization, go to: www.compassionatepassages.org