Mothering through grief

In July 2023, I found myself doing the unthinkable – planning my baby’s funeral. My baby boy passed away before I ever got to see him take a single, precious breath.

How do you plan an event you never wanted to attend? As I lay in my hospital bed, time seemed to stand still. I held my beloved baby in my arms. We named him John-Micah, and as I gazed at his little face, I couldn’t make my heart accept that he was gone … even now, I still can’t.

Grief is a word that is heavier to me now than ever before. It is hard for me to accept that I will mourn for the rest of my life. I’m told it will get better with time, but even after more than a year – even after the blessing of another baby – my grief still feels fresh.

Unfortunately, this pain also affects the way I mother my three other children. Before John-Micah’s death, I naively believed that losing a child would inspire a mother to become the best parent she could be. While that is truly what I want, I find myself failing daily.

Some days start fine, but sorrow often seeps in and steals my peace. One meltdown by my toddler, one mishap with my four-year-old, or one prolonged cry by my newborn, and I’m overwhelmed with grief. Then I glance at the clock and see that it is only 9 a.m. And all I can do is pray, “Lord, give me strength.”

His promise

Oh how I cling to Psalm 34:18: “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Some days, I am quick to feel His presence and recognize His nearness; other days, the Father seems far away. In those moments of despair, I remember His promised, steadfast loving-kindness. When I finally come to my senses and acknowledge His presence, peace returns, and the heavy yoke of grief is lifted, even if only for that sacred moment (Matthew 11:28-30).

When I accept that the Lord never leaves my side, I am a better mama to my little ones. Each time I surrender my life to the One who holds me fast (Psalm 94:18), my heart feels secure. In Him, I find the strength to protect my children’s hearts the way they need and deserve. Those meltdowns and mishaps don’t feel so overwhelming as I acknowledge that He holds all four of my children in the same arms that hold me.

His purpose

Being a mother is one of the most blessed roles this side of heaven. And as a mama to three here in my arms and one resting in the arms of Jesus, I welcome the privilege and responsibility of raising and praying that as my three children see me surrendering myself – including my grief – to Jesus, they will follow in my footsteps to the foot of the cross.