Today, is international bereaved mother’s day. It is a day to remember all those mothers who have a little someone in heaven, an empty chair at the table – those who have to love their child from afar. But I also see it as a day for those suffering from infertility, those who are mothers in their heart and in their dreams, but have a long (perhaps impossible) road to make it a reality.
Mother’s day when you’re only baby has died is torture, you feel lost, you feel alone, you feel empty. Your arms ache to hold your baby just one more time. And that sadness is still there on Mother’s day now, I have my Benedict, but I miss my Gideon. I remember the only mother’s day when he was alive, and the first time I held him and looked down at his face, peacefully sleeping. I was filled with more love than I ever thought possible.
Today, is a day I can think about how to be a mother to Gideon, when he is not physically here. Sometimes I even feel as if he is somehow the “parent,” the wiser one. He is in heaven, he knows everything, and he is with me throughout my life – my little angel. It’s a strange feeling of protectiveness and love, while knowing he, no doubt, knows more than I. He knows heaven, he knows my heart, my soul.
He is a child, but more than a child.
He is a bright star in the heavens, and while I feel like I know him well – he knows galaxies, heaven and earth, the universe and all that it means.
Today, is a day of complexities.
I am mother to the universe.