The Unspeakable Spoken

Mother’s Day after pregnancy or infant loss is complicated. Not only can it be a painful and triggering day for those grieving, but it can be difficult to navigate and engage with society when your experience colors outside of the normal lines.

Leading up to my first Mother’s Day, only 6 weeks after Gibson had passed away, a friend and I went to get mani pedis together. The nail technician and I made awkward conversation to pass the time, as you do. As is to be expected at this time of year, she began the usual string of questions.

“So are you a mother?” she asked.

Panic mode initiate. A million thoughts raced through my head. “How do I respond? Do I want to be honest? What will that lead to if I am? Do I say yes? Do I say no? Is this the place and time to get into all of it? What should I do?”

Despite my desire to avoid what I knew could potentially lead to even more awkwardness, answering in anyway other than the truth felt like a betrayal to my son on my first Mother’s Day.

And so, I say without explanation, “Yes.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “How many children do you have?”

“One.” Hoping that my brevity will end this line of questioning, but alas.

“Oh! Happy Mother’s Day to you! And how old are they?” she continues.

Here it comes.

“Well… actually my son passed away shortly after he was born.” There it is. Elephant released.

“Oh,” she says again, but this time withdrawing all eye-contact and suddenly busying herself in her tools and work.

That was it. End of conversation, no follow up. My previously chatty nail technician was so viscerally uncomfortable by the truth I had shared that the rest of the mani pedi proceeded in complete silence. It was painful, on so many levels.

Being only 6 weeks post-loss at that point, I was not capable of digging us out of that hole. In my vulnerability and with such raw pain, I was the one who needed reassurance and comfort. This was all new territory for me and it only added to the gaping wounds I was carrying. But, the unfortunate truth is that many people are not equipped to engage in difficult and painful conversations around loss. We are not taught what to do or to say when we’re confronted with these things. We do not cultivate these dialogues as a culture.

However, two years post-loss, I would have handled that moment so differently. While there are absolutely certain moments in life when I choose not to divulge my entire motherhood journey, 99% of the time, my desire to honor my children pushes me to be honest about our losses. Even when I know it will make others uncomfortable. But with time and practice, I’ve also learned that I can use my response to reassure the other person that this is a safe topic. And if I don’t see clear signs of them being able to rise to the occasion, I try to simply redirect the conversation elsewhere to relieve the tension and escape the moment.

While the burden of guiding these conversations really should not fall to the bereaved, the reality is that it often does. I’m not always successful in this effort. Sometimes a person’s response throws me off kilter just enough that I can’t seem to gracefully recover. It’s an imperfect process and I can only do what I can do.

So if this is your first Mother’s Day post-loss, just know that it’s okay not to know what to do, how to feel, or what to say. It’s a learning process. One that inevitably will continue to evolve as your journey progresses. You are free to grieve, retreat, or celebrate in whatever way feels safest to you in this exact moment.

In the meantime, I am wishing you a very gentle Mother’s Day. Be kind to yourself.