I was a mother from the moment I saw that second blue line. I have remained a mother, through my son’s death and his younger sister’s birth. And this May is my SIXTH mothers day.
Parenting in loss
People who haven’t dealt with tragedy are often made uncomfortable by any mention of the life that remains. It’s as if there is this irrevocable connection between my son’s death and his existence; as if these things are forever entwined instead of merely adjacent.
It doesn’t matter how far along you were. It doesn’t matter if there was anything “wrong” with the baby or if he or she would not have been compatible with life. It doesn’t even matter how many other children you have, either before or after your loss. You are ALWAYS allowed to feel what you need.
My child’s death didn’t end our relationship. I still parent them and honor their life and memory in my life. I am a Sea Glass Parent; Parenting my child after their death.
Here’s to the ‘tog who understands—She may be a mother, Or “just” a friend. She puts on the camera, and doesn’t ask questions. She knows all the symbols, and she respects them…Thank you to every photographer who understands the value of symbols of our lost children. You are appreciated.
I have 2 children: 1 living, and 1 living in an urn. It’s a hard way to parent, & I’m still doing it. I have moments, though, where I wonder if I am enough for her. Will she understand when she’s older? Will she understand what it means to have a deceased brother? Will she ever resent him or me?
I am the mother whose body swelled with pregnancy.
I am the mother who dreamed and wanted and planned.
I am the mother who left my heart in a small and curtained alcove room.
I am the mother who screamed and cried and begged.
This past year has been opening,
The year I “woke” to life and everything;
The year I grew as a writer and a person,
And it still all comes down to him—
It’s been commonly noted that the English language doesn’t currently have a word to describe a parent whose child is deceased. I choose the term, “Sea Glass Parent.” It acknowledges both the Broken and the Beauty in my life. It’s a metaphor, and also a piece of unique beauty on it’s own.
I was scrolling through Instagram yesterday, and I came across a quote that really resonated. And then I realized—It was mine. Plagiarism is the one of the last things you think will happen in a mostly caring community like ours, but it happened to me.
Sharing about my deceased child doesn’t mean that I’m stuck or broken or even that I am hurting. It simply means I am a parent.