Every year, the Sunday before Mother’s Day marks a lesser-known but significant observance: Bereaved Mother’s Day. There are likely no carnations in church for this one, nor happy well-wishes. This is a holiday that attempts to acknowledge some of the complications that come with an annual celebration of motherhood—that for some, their relationship with the label “Mom” could be painful if their children are no longer living, or if they were unable to meet their babies alive due to miscarriage or stillbirth. It has been not just heartbreaking, but devasting, nightmarish even, to watch friends endure these losses. Even though we probably all know someone who has suffered a child or infant loss, or been through the experience ourselves, it can feel like uncharted territory. What words do you say? How do you mourn? Part of the confusion may come out of an outdated impulse to forget these kinds of infant deaths, or at least not memorialize them in a way that would continue to bring up the loss. But things are quickly changing, and more stories of infant death are coming to the forefront. The May/June issue of Christianity Today features some of the ministries and groups catering to moms of stillborn babies with specialized hospital equipment, photo sessions, and grieving rituals. Even if moms who have lost their babies may not be drawn to these particular options, the fact that they exist testifies that they are not alone in their plight. Many other parents have been in the same position—and grappling for ways to respond and remember the little lives they lost. And they should also be an important reminder to the rest of us. The other thing that struck me about seeing friends lose children was how quickly life seems to move on around them, how chatter goes from prayers and condolences to never mentioning their losses again. No wonder some parents speak out to say that they feel like their experience with child or infant death gets forgotten or overlooked. In the week between Bereaved Mother’s Day and Mother’s Day, it’s an important time for us to consider how we speak about parenthood and children. (I have become particularly sensitive to when people say things like, “Congratulations on keeping a kid alive.” Or “He’s still alive! You’re doing great.”) We may not know who around us is bearing deep grief after learning firsthand just how much is out of our control. Kate |