Bereaved Mothers day.
Tomorrow the 5th of May is “International Bereaved Mother’s Day.” Did you even know that was a thing? I didn’t. Sadly, there are many mums like me who find out this day exists when it becomes a day for them to remember and celebrate the baby/ babies they lost, or the babies they have longed for, but their desire to be a mum is not yet realized.
This week
it has been 4 months since Evangeline entered the world, for a very short stay
before going to her forever home with Jesus, where we will be reunited one day.
It is amazing how 4 months feels like an eternity but also like I blinked, and
it was gone. January 3rd and 4th will be forever etched
in my mind, but life didn’t stop that day it continues to move forward.
During the few weeks
between our trip to Fiji and returning to work, I felt my mind begin to clear. The grief fog I was under felt a little lighter as my mind began to make space
for something else. Something I know well, and have done for over 10 years-
teaching. It felt good to have a break from thinking about the absence of my
baby and to start to plan and prepare to help a group of fresh out of Kindy 5-year-olds
transition to school.
I know
grief doesn’t just go away, but for a few weeks there I felt like my old self.
What I wasn’t prepared for was another wave of grief. As I drove in to school
on Monday grief hit as I remembered all the plans we had made in preparation
for the arrival of our baby. We moved out of our tiny 2-bedroom cottage when I was
12 weeks pregnant into a 3-bedroom house. One room was to be for our baby and
the other spare room is our guest room. We thought it would be perfect for when
Ryan's family came to visit from Texas. As soon as our news of my
pregnancy was shared with our family abroad there were plans of visits being discussed. Our new house
is a lot further from my work, but I figured I’d be home soon with our baby and
wouldn’t need to sit in traffic for too long. That’s the thing about pregnancy
as soon as you find out you are pregnant you start planning and preparing. I’m not just grieving
the past when we lost Evangeline, but the future I thought we would have.
Instead of this year being at home with my baby, I was driving to work after
just 4 months with the added workload of another wave of grief. Fortunately, it
was teachers only day, so I didn’t have students to welcome in that day.
Nothing can
ever prepare you for all the things you have to navigate when you lose a baby full
term or close to full term. The thing about a baby growing in your womb is it
becomes evident to everyone around you within about the 2nd trimester. That
means even now I still get people asking about my baby, not knowing she’s
passed. This week was particularly bad for these assumptions. The children I have previously taught or interacted with at school all saw me very pregnant. Some
children know others don’t. At the end of my first day back with the kids, a
girl I taught 2 years ago ran up to me bursting with excitement. “How’s your
baby, Mrs Williams?” she asked. I tried to dodge the question, but this kid is
one of those emotionally intelligent kids who definitely wasn’t going to stop asking until she
had an answer to the question she came to ask. There was no way around it so I
simply said “She is with Jesus.” I watched the smile leave this sweet child’s
face and then she said “she died?” I simply nodded. There were a few follow up
questions of “what happened?” Then she handed me a flower and ran off. The next
day the same child told me “I think you will get another one (meaning baby), maybe
if you see a baby, you could just adopt it.” Haha gosh, why didn’t I think of
that? Don’t you love the simplicity of
children and how easy it is to solve a problem in a child’s mind. As well as
children I had a few adults I had to tell. Day 2, I was also asked the question
I’ve come to dread “do you have kids?” by a new colleague. I never realized how
often it comes up, but I guess because of my age this is one of those small
talk questions I will / do get asked. On Friday, I was feeling extra tired and wanted
a strong coffee. There is one coffee stop on my way to work (that opens early)
and I went there a lot last year. I decided to pull the band aid off and go
back there, knowing I would be asked about my baby. I saw the same excitement in
the coffee ladies’ eyes as I did in the child's. “Hi how are you? How’s your
baby” she asked. The smile left my face and I responded, she passed away in
January. The kind lady in the coffee
stand burst into tears and hugged me. I
had said those words “my baby passed” all week but this was the moment I really
felt them, as we stood crying together. Even though it was the genuine display
of empathy that brought my tears to the surface, I still so appreciated this
kind lady’s response. For just a moment it felt less lonely. My coffee was also
free so I guess some good comes from sharing my story 😉.
Amazingly, despite
all this grief that sits constantly under the surface, ready to spill out at
random, and that demands to be processed at 3 or 4am in the morning! I was
still able to do my job of making kids feel safe and secure, setting expectations,
building relationships and teaching routines.
I believe that is the grace of God who carries me through, because “His
grace is sufficient for me, and His power is made perfect in weakness.”
Everyday I remind myself that God’s Grace is sufficient for each day. In this
season my tears have been my prayers, yet God still hears even when there are
no words.
This weekend I am intentionally taking time out of a
busy week to sit and remember my beautiful Evangeline. This blog is apart of that and it allows me to
process all the coming and goings of the week.
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