Mother’s Day for a Mom Without Her Mom Just Isn’t as Sweet

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Nine years ago was my first Mother’s Day. Although I was still carrying my first child inside me, my co-workers, both already moms, assured me that it still counted. Little did I know that it would also be my last Mother’s Day with my mom. Just three months later, my dad called me one evening to let me know my mom had taken a turn for the worse and was probably not going to make it. I was just shy of 32 weeks pregnant when I boarded a plane to travel to be with my mom for the last time. 

Being in the hospital those last few days, my stomach was rather large, and everywhere I turned I saw the pitying eyes. It’s bad enough that your mom is dying, but to be pregnant with her first grandchild is heartbreaking. I remember putting her hand on my stomach and willing my baby to kick so she could feel him. 

Before the funeral, we had to buy a dress for my mom to be buried in. As awful as it was, my sister and I were not going to let our dad do it. So my husband drove us for an afternoon of funeral attire shopping, a dress for our mom and funeral-appropriate maternity clothes for me. I remember my sister and I commiserating in our grief, “This is not something people should have to do.”

Taking it Moment by Moment, Day by Day

Since then, I have had people say how strong I am or that they don’t think they could have handled such a loss during what was supposed to be such a joyous time. To be honest, I don’t know how I did. I wouldn’t say I was strong, There were days the grief was crushing. But life doesn’t stop, and I was carrying my mom’s grandbaby. I didn’t really have a choice. I woke up every day and went through the motions. 

Much of it was a blur, but there are some heartbreaking memories that stand out in my mind. Times when the hurt and unfairness of it all came front and center. For me, juggling my grief and caring for the baby still growing inside me were all-encompassing. I took it moment by moment, day by day. My family and close friends knew that I had lost my mom. However, your mom having just died is not a typical conversation starter, and I was not spending my time sharing the news with everyone I had ever met. This probably would not really have mattered if I wasn’t about to have a baby, an event typically celebrated by the grandma-to-be.

Plain and Simple, It Just Isn’t Fair

The morning after our son was born, my husband called his childhood best friend with the good news. His friend’s sweet wife, who had met my mom at our wedding, said to me, “Your mom must be so excited!” I delivered the news, “Oh, she died six weeks ago,” followed by the stumbling, awkward “I’m so sorry”. This foot-in-the-mouth moment was not our friend’s fault or my fault, or anyone’s fault. It was just indicative of the complete and utter crappiness (for lack of a better word) of losing my mom so soon before the birth of my first child.

I wish I could say that was the only awkward Oh, my mom just died moment, but having a baby is a happy thing. People want to share in your joy. While out for a walk with a new, new-mom friend, babies in strollers, said friend conversationally asked me if my mom was excited about having a grandbaby.

My OB knew I had lost my mom because a friend, worried how the loss might affect the rest of my pregnancy, accompanied me to an appointment to make sure I shared the news of my loss. Our son’s pediatrician, however, did not know. When my son was just a few months old, my dad was in town and went with us to an appointment. The pediatrician, talking to my dad about being a new grandpa, asked him, “How is your wife enjoying the new grandbaby?” 

The Holidays and Special Events

Those first few Thanksgivings and Christmases without my mom felt empty. I had this amazing child, but everything felt wrong. My mom should have been there to hold him, rock him, and just be his Grandma. Once, on a diaper run to Target, I remember wanting to run out of the store because I just couldn’t handle all of the Christmas displays reminding me of another holiday without my mom. I avoided (and still do) the row of Mother’s Day cards. There were times I wanted to throw things at the t.v. when Mother’s Day commercials played on repeat. 

My sister got married a few years ago, and it hurts to know that my mom never got to see my sister so happy or to meet her new son-in-law. My sister and I went dress shopping together, without our mom. We celebrated this joyous event, without our mom. One of the hardest parts for me was the wedding photos. You know, that one of the bride, the groom, and the bride’s immediate family … the one that our mom was clearly missing from. I was fighting back tears during that one. 

The Regular, Everyday Moments When it All Comes Rushing Back

Then there are the regular days, like when I am browsing the aisles of Home Goods and I see a woman close to my age shopping with her mom, and it hits me. I will never go shopping with my mom again. Or, when I’m stressed about something with my children and just want to talk to my mom, and the grief and loss feel almost new. 

When my oldest was 3 1/2, my youngest grabbed his glasses and snapped them in two. A couple of days later, I was in Walmart with my oldest, trying to pick out a spare set of glasses for him. His replacement frames were on back order, so it was going to be a few weeks until they came in. Due to his eye condition, I was pretty stressed about him being without his glasses.

I gave my son a Curious George episode to watch on my phone so I could think about my purchase, and a random shopper said to me, “I wonder what your mom did without one of those.” I don’t remember exactly how I responded. I think I ignored her. I’m sure she thought I was rude, but I really didn’t care. It was much better than snapping at her, “I don’t know. She’s dead, so I can’t ask her,” which was on the tip of my tongue. 

Gradually, It Does Get Easier

I think about it, and I cannot believe it has been nine years since I celebrated Mother’s Day with my mom, and almost nine years since I’ve heard her voice. Gradually, time has taken the edge off. This year I did manage to make my mother-in-law a personalized gift on Shutterfly for Mother’s Day. I still don’t know that I’ll ever be able to purchase her a Mother’s Day card, though. Hopefully by the time my sons are married with children, I will be able to brave the aisle for cards for my daughters-in-law.

So for my fellow motherless moms, if you are feeling less than joyful this Mother’s Day season, that is okay. This is your journey. If you are angry or bitter, that is okay. If you need to cry, go ahead. Writing about my own journey, I am reminded of a poem that I first saw many years ago and am sharing below. My hope is that knowing you are not alone may bring you some comfort this Mother’s Day.

“Time Will Ease the Hurt” by Bruce Wilmer

The sadness of the present days
Is locked and set in time,
And moving to the future
Is a slow and painful climb.

But all the feelings that are now
So vivid and so real
Can’t hold their fresh intensity
As time begins to heal.

No wound so deep will ever go
Entirely away;
Yet every hurt becomes
A little less from day to day.

Nothing else can erase the painful
Imprints on your mind;
But there are softer memories
That time will let you find.

Though your heart won’t let the sadness
Simply slide away,
The echoes will diminish
Even though the memories stay.

 

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Amy R
Amy, originally from Maryland, met her husband shortly after moving to Auburn for graduate school in 2000. The two have been together since first meeting, getting married in 2004, and now live in Chelsea with their two boys, ages 8 & 6. Amy's step-daughter, 19, is studying at Vanderbilt. Pre-kids, Amy worked in Property Management but quickly turned SAHM after the birth of her first child. The family manages multiple food allergies and Celiac Disease. Seeing a need for connection and support for local families living with food allergies, she started the local support group, The No Nuts Moms Group of Birmingham, a chapter of the national, No Nuts Moms Group. Amy also home-schools her sons, and is on a quest for organization and minimalism. She enjoys being in nature and camping trips with the family as well as reading and writing about all things motherhood.