Motherhood is a grieving process.

The following is a blog post written for Visitation Motherhood about a year ago and is a personal reflection that aims to show the connection between motherhood and grief. If you are struggling in your own motherhood with grief, know that you are not alone. There are a lot of resources and supports for you! Visitation Motherhood is one of them. I also offer Psychotherapy and Coaching services that specifically target Postpartum depression and anxiety, and other mood-related disorders that often accompany motherhood. If needed, contact me today by filling out an interest form.

Motherhood is a grieving process. 

I discovered this just two short days after having my daughter. December 15, 2019. I could remember it so vividly. My body was in pain. My mind was overwhelmed and my heart was exploding with joy and eager anticipation. I could not wait to bring my daughter into the nest I so carefully crafted but as my husband and I left the hospital and said goodbye to all the nurses, my stomach churned. I felt this eerie feeling of loss, of time, slipping at my fingers, and everything changing in an instant, and yet not having any control or power to change it. 

This was my first experience of grief as a mother and it was painful. As I sat with my daughter in the back seat, staring at her perfectly peaceful face, my heart sank. I watched the cars pass as we continued to drive forward. All I wanted to do was just go back to the hospital. Moving forward meant more loss. It meant time slipping away. It meant powerlessness. At the time, I was not conscious of this but my soul knew it well. It permeated my entire being. Deep down I was afraid that the little being I love so much would be taken from me. 

When we arrived at our apartment my parents had followed us in to make sure that we had all we needed. I felt the feeling of impending loss more deeply, as my parents prepared to say goodbye. I wanted to say, “Wait, mom, I need you. Don’t leave. I am scared” but instead, I waited silently for the inevitable goodbye and wished them well. As I closed the door behind them, I felt my inner-child yearning for them to take me with them.  She was grieving too. She knew that everything was about to change (it already was) and that this new child needed my time and attention. 

The next few weeks were a blur but I remember looking at all the ways my body was changing and longing for the womb that held her safely within me. Everything was moving too quickly. I could see her physical features evolving with each passing day. I wanted to just savor every moment with her. Most nights after she went to bed, I would stay up and just scroll through the pictures in my phone, trying to hold the image of her a little longer but no matter what I did, there was nothing I could do about the reality that was always there beneath the tender coos and piercing cries: she was my daughter, but she was not mine. She was developing and growing to one day leave my embrace. I was losing my life as I knew it, but most importantly I was losing her. 

As I reflect back on these early months with my daughter, I think about Mary and her grieving heart. Mary knew grief well. From the moment she knew she was becoming a mother, she called herself the “handmaid of the Lord.” To be a handmaid means to be of service. Mary enters into motherhood ready to serve. She does not enter with the intention to control, to grasp, to fear, to possess, but with obedience and trust, she allows herself to be emptied and filled with the Holy Spirit so she can make space in her heart to truly surrender and experience loss. 

Mary is the “Sorrowful Mother” and the “Comforting Mother.” We see images of both in Catholic iconography. Mother holding Jesus tight close to her chest and Mary at the foot of the cross, her heart pierced with pain. Through Mary’s example, she invites us into a deeper experience of motherhood so we can hold both the sorrow of motherhood and the joy. Mary has given us a posture, a way of perception so we can fully enter into the role of mother and be transformed by it. 

I am grateful for Mary because without her, I am not sure if I would have been able to manage the grief motherhood brings. Mary ultimately has taught me that the Lord did not bless me with the gift of motherhood so I can possess or control, or live afraid of loss. The Lord gifted me with motherhood so I can bear life and be a witness to it in all of its pain and glory. My aching heart is a price of love and with my love, it is evident that there will be many more experiences of loss. There will be things I will not be able to protect my daughter from. I will fail her. I will experience new pangs of labor as I watch her heart break from the evils of this world but with every loss, there is always rebirth. There is always a resurrection. There is always something to gain. 

I believe I am called to be there alongside my daughter through it all, just like Mary “holding all things in her heart” walks alongside Jesus. As we see from Mary’s own life, she never tries to keep Jesus for herself. She never tries to manipulate or control what is out of her control. In the same way, I strive to allow myself to lose. To let my daughter venture into new places, to experience other arms to hold her tight, and to grow into all she is called to be, even if it is without me. 

I recognize that she too is in the grieving process, feeling the juxtaposition of death and resurrection, loss, and rebirth, and I cannot shelter her from this. I am called to be a “handmaid,” to serve her through it all, and ultimately serve the Lord who lives and works through her, and who will one day bring her Home. 

It is not easy by any means. Sometimes the loss feels unbearable. I literally cried for two days before she turned one. I was in a complete funk. I couldn’t really sleep or eat. I felt powerless and small. My heart ached with the reality that I was mourning the loss of her infancy but I was able to experience all of this without losing the joy and power of motherhood. I am able to feel all of these difficult feelings and know that through motherhood, I have gained so much more than I could ever lose. 

What has worked for me is just acknowledging when I am feeling grief. Validating my feelings and taking them to the Lord in prayer. It also has helped me to pray for the ability to surrender and to be courageous daily. I acknowledge when I am trying to control and when I am filled with fear, and I allow the Lord to comfort me and Our Lady to mother me, so that I can be at rest again. Lastly, it has helped to reflect on Mary’s motherhood often. I have really developed a closer relationship with Our Lady this last year by simply recalling what I know about her life and how she mothered Jesus. This continues to give my soul so much restoration and peace. Sometimes, I will just pray the rosary with my daughter and allow tears to just flow from my face. 

In the end, I know I am not alone and through it all, my grief, my motherhood, is all a blessing.