By Lindsay S

Each year Spring hits, the blossoms come in, and like clockwork my Pregdar goes into overdrive, and I see pregnant women EVERYWHERE! People start going outside more, Spring turns to Summer, and I start to see babies EVERYWHERE! To add to all the (blatant to me) breeding going on – without fail – baby shower invites start to arrive.

Initially I ‘should’ myself into going. For my closest girlfriends I have ‘bucked up’ and ‘gone to be supportive’ to at least one shower each. I awkwardly attend feeling like a fish out of water trying to float around – be a wall flower don’t draw too much attention to myself… Although things would go superficially well I would always get to some point, in some conversation, where I can’t avoid someone asking me “Do you have kids?”.

Dammit!  – I call this the catch 22 part.

I have to choose to either flat-out lie and say I don’t have kids to spare the poor party goer  ( who is trying to celebrate a mutual friends shower…) and fain ignorance about anything pregnancy related for the remainder of the time OR say I do and try to figure out a way to explain my only son was born still without completely souring the parties mood… usually resulting in looks of minor horror like my presence could somehow jinx the baby, the party, and all those within ear shot.

Almost every time I pick be honest. I usually end up blurting out something along the lines of “yes I had a son, he passed away” then either changing the subject or just kind of drifting out of the conversation altogether. Back to the wall – part of the party but not. Once over those humps, the showers usually go off without a hitch, baby gifts, games, and food. In the coming hours of external ‘happy’ and internal thoughts replaying what happened to me – when it comes time to I leave, I do. Emotionally exhausted, but intact.

It wasn’t until this Baby/ Shower season that I felt pressure from my mother to attend a shower. We had a mutual family friend whose daughter was due within months and extended an invite our way. I had not seen this family friend in sometime, and her daughter(s), years before that. Mom near relentlessly, would drop into each conversation in the days leading up to the shower “Oh you should go – come with me… Why not? it’ll be fun! It’s not too late to say you’re coming – they’d love to see you! I’ll put your name on the card too” or the one that took me completely back:

“Well she went to your shower”…

Are you serious?

My own mother can not see what going to a shower does to me. What it takes out of me. The literal work it takes to be “on” for that time in that way. I get I have made it look easy – sometimes – but that’s all surface.

I actually found myself having to explain to her (not as eloquently as below): There are times where I just can’t put myself through it. It takes energy and strength to hold it together under those circumstances. And yes I am strong but  it is impossible to be so every. single. day. And certainly not in concentrated baby zones. I choose to bear it for my closest friends when I can but I will not for acquaintances or the purpose of fulfilling some social obligation.

Loss Mothers: People generally mean well like I know my mother did (just didn’t come out that way). Most of the time they don’t always consider all the different levels on which losing a child can affect someone. I try to trust my instincts – if I’ve had a rough week at work, and any number of other life things are going on – I usually ‘do not have it in me’ to tough through a shower but it’s up to me to effectively own and say that.

Family/Friends: If we decline to attend it’s not a slight against anyone. Baby showers for loss mothers can be trying and uncomfortable to say the least. It trudges up everything – because the only time we had with our children was while pregnant.

Sometimes we will have the courage and grace to put on our brave smiling faces and go to that shower for the bestie we’ve had forever, out of our love for our sistas, and the rest of the time we will have the wisdom within ourselves to respect our own limits, love ourselves, and politely RSVP ‘No’.

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind” – Dr Seuss

Lindsay S is mother to Desmond Elias, who was stillborn at full term after a textbook pregnancy. Lindsay was adopted at birth, and developed a bit of a family obsession, which made the feelings surrounding death of her son even more complicated. The grief in the coming months proved near impossible for Lindsay and her husband to handle and they lost themselves, each other, their home, and another baby. Lindsay and her husband eventually found their way back to each other and resumed some semblance of a normal life. Without planning, Lindsay found herself pregnant for a third time, but unfortunately lost the baby early on again.

This is when the shift happened. After some long talks and soul searching they decided to stop trying. Just let it go. Not fully closing the door, but looking around at the other doors in life. Maybe open a window or two.

Lindsay happened upon and joined the Still Mothers community. She hopes she can help others through sharing her story and encourage parents to feel secure enough to stay true to themselves when building their life after loss.

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