by Angie
Every day is a struggle for loss mothers. And it seems the majority of these women are comforted by the loving support of their partners. Others are in the unique position of losing their child and having no partner to share their experience with.
I am one of those women.
I had to start my life over, just like every other loss mother, yet I did it alone. My ex and I split when I was pregnant and I tentatively approached motherhood solo, dreading being labelled as a ‘young, single mother’ at the age of 23. Harrison was born at 24+6 gestation and I endured navigating the terrifying NICU journey alone, as well as 3 months of solo parenting once he came home from hospital. Then, when he was taken by suspected SIDS at almost 6 months old (10 weeks corrected), I struggled through that journey alone, too.
One thing I have grappled with is my role as a mother and my place in this wide world. I walk down the street and no one knows I’ve had a baby. No one knows the abuse my ex inflicted upon me and my son. No one knows that I’m heartbroken and that I’ll never be the same.
These thoughts caused me to fall into what I now realise was a major identity crisis. I was 23, separated from my high school sweetheart, had given birth prematurely and lost my only child. I had faced a life time of trauma within such a short time. I began to wonder: ‘who am I?’ I didn’t know what I was doing or where I was going with my life. I was a mum but I wasn’t a normal mum. Where did I go from there? Losing everything gave me one unique opportunity: I could start over. I found myself in a position where I no longer had any commitments or ties to my hometown. I backpacked solo for several months, and this was a very healing journey of grief with many nights spent crying in hostel bunk beds. I later found a new partner in another country and have recently relocated to live with him. An opportunity to start over was just what I needed, but as I don’t know if or when I’ll ever have another child, so I’ve had to accept life as a ‘mum of none’.
With a new partner and social circle, and living in a new country, it would be easy to neglect to acknowledge my baby, but my identity as a mother is still as strong as ever, and I try my best to include him in my life every day with the help of my supportive partner.
If you’re also moving forward in life by starting over, here are some ways to keep the memory of your child alive:
– Talk about your baby if you feel comfortable. If you don’t have a partner, talk to anyone who’ll listen. A friend, family, a counsellor, or a stranger on the street. I find an important way to keep Harrison’s memory alive is to mention him in passing if it is appropriate to the conversation, because our experience matters too.
– Answer questions. If you have a new partner or new friends, let them ask and be interested in your baby and let them see you as a mother. It was very validating for my partner to say to me that he thinks I’m the best mum he knows, even though he never met Harrison. He doesn’t have experience with children but he takes an interest in that aspect of my life and asks questions about Harrison and my pregnancy and I love to answer them.
– Decorate your house with mementos or keep an area like a ‘shrine’ to your baby. I keep Harrison’s things in his set of drawers and I go to them when I am sad. But I also keep his happy, smiling photos on the walls and say ‘hi’ to him sometimes like I would if he was here. You can move on with your life and be okay, while still maintaining that memory.
– Carry something of your baby’s on your person so they’re always with you. Whether it’s an ultrasound photo, a picture of your baby or a locket of hair. I keep a photo of Harrison from the NICU in my wallet, and I usually wear my breast milk locket and that always makes me feel close to him even when no one else knows he exists. I also have a tattoo that I got for him. If you don’t have any physical mementos, you could draw or make something or purchase something like a birth stone, piece or jewellery or toy that reminds you of them.
– Engage with other mums. If it’s not too painful, connect with loss mums or even mums with living children. I find this to be grounding because I can say ‘hey, my baby might not be here now, but I carried a baby! I’m just like you, I’m a mum!’ Many women find it too painful to be around mums with living children, and sometimes I feel like that too, but on the whole I find it therapeutic to be around my friends’ children and watch them grow and smile. It reminds me of the beauty in the world.
– Let yourself cry. Eventually, we all have to move on with our lives. For those of us starting anew, it can be easy for people to treat us like we should ‘get over it’. But you know what? You are allowed to be happy, and you are also allowed to be sad. If you need to cry, then cry! Many days I will be happy enough but then come home and dissolve into tears either alone or in the arms of my partner, and that is okay. We may have entered into a new chapter of our lives, but that doesn’t mean the previous chapter didn’t happen.
Starting over has been a massive journey for me. It’s been eight months since Harrison died. He has now been dead longer than he was alive. It is a painful thought, but as more time passes, I feel like I am finally starting to unravel the mystery of who I am and what I want out of life. My life may or may not bring more children to me, but moving forward I know that I will never forget my perfect, smiling baby. I know that I’m still a mother.
Angie is an Aussie single mum to Harrison, who was born 16 weeks prematurely but came home healthy after 97 days in hospital. He suddenly died of unknown causes when he was 6 months old/10 weeks corrected. She now live in England with a new partner, and navigates life as childless mother.
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