A little over a month after my son passed away due to SIDS, the news broke of a beloved actress, Mia Thompson, who unexpectedly succumbed to a heart attack. Just a day later, her mother, Fiona Lawson, tragically followed her into the afterlife, reportedly from what is known as Broken Heart Syndrome — a condition that manifests as a tear in the heart’s left ventricle, often triggered by extreme emotional distress. In that moment, I felt overwhelmed and almost envious. Why had the weight of her daughter’s loss been so heavy that it claimed her life? Why hadn’t I faced a similar fate?
After my child’s passing, people would often say, “I couldn’t endure such a loss,” as if the tragedy that befell my family was a choice. But honestly, I had no clue how I was even managing to go on. I never wished for my own life to continue while every part of me longed to reunite with my child.
I irrationally felt like a failure as a mother for surviving the unbearable. The innocent words of others only deepened my sense of inadequacy, making it feel as if my love for my son was somehow diminished because I was still alive, even as I felt like a mere shell of my former self. My days began with gut-wrenching sobs, relentless reminders of loss, and a persistent lump in my throat that made it hard to breathe.
As time passed, those sharp pangs of grief became less frequent, yet the pain never truly faded. I’ve grown accustomed to carrying this scar, which has become a vital part of my life’s narrative. I no longer weep uncontrollably, but I carve out specific moments to allow myself to grieve. “You can have a good cry tonight if you need to,” I tell myself. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t, and sometimes it doesn’t follow the schedule I set.
That’s perfectly okay. For grieving mothers, joy will always be tinged with sorrow. Daily life is already a challenge, and holidays can amplify the struggle. This is why I find value in Bereaved Mother’s Day — a statement I never imagined I would ever make.
This day is ours. It belongs to every woman who has laid their child to rest. Today, we strip away the facade and let our pain be seen. In a world that often forgets about parents like me, we crave acknowledgment. After the last casserole has been consumed and the final “thinking of you” message has faded, the journey through child loss is an isolating and intensely dark experience.
Society tends to wrap our suffering in silence, urging us to “move on,” while we, the grieving, struggle to heal. On Bereaved Mother’s Day, there’s no ignoring us; this is our time to grieve, raise awareness, and share our stories of love and loss.
I’m here to declare: I had a son, Ethan, whom I loved beyond words, and he is gone. Losing him meant losing significant parts of who I was. Living on while he remains forever young is a burden I will carry indefinitely. It pains me deeply to think of the countless women who will face this heartbreak, just as I have. I wish I could stop this cycle of grief; it’s a torment I wouldn’t wish even on my worst enemy. But child loss is a cruel lottery, and we, the bereaved, are just some of the unfortunate winners.
Today, I mourn my son, the life we should have shared, and the mother I once was. I do this so that I can find a semblance of “normal” in the days ahead. If waves of grief crash over me, so be it; I will strive to embrace joy on my “regular” Mother’s Day.
Regardless of circumstances, the number of children, or their ages, we are all mothers. You have every right to weep on Bereaved Mother’s Day if that’s what you need.
This is your day, Mama. For resources on child loss, financial support, and community, visit our page about home insemination kits to connect with others who truly understand. You can also explore gestational surrogacy support for further guidance and CDC’s pregnancy resources for additional information.
Summary
This heartfelt piece addresses the complexities of grief experienced by mothers who have lost a child, particularly on Bereaved Mother’s Day. It emphasizes the importance of acknowledging this pain, sharing personal experiences, and creating space for grieving mothers in a society that often overlooks their struggles.