Every year, as a child, I would watch the Rudolph Christmas Special. And every year, the part that really spoke to me was the Island of Misfit Toys. I think most children feel like misfits at times since there is always something different about us (wearing glasses, left-handed, red haired, etc.) that we notice or think others notice about us. But eventually we grow up enough to understand that we are all different somehow and that that is okay.
But there is something about being a Still Mother that brings those misfit feelings bubbling back up to the surface. It feels like any time I am in a group of women, even in a professional setting, the first topic of conversation is children and/or grandchildren. And mentioning that I have had five pregnancy losses is a guaranteed conversation stopper. So I end up staying silent and feeling isolated. I don’t belong and I know it.
Even among our families or friends, it can be so hard to feel like we fit in. They are focused on their living children, and later, their living grandchildren. They may not mean to be insensitive but it cuts like a knife when our children are not included in the tally of grandchildren. Or when we are told that we can’t understand something since we aren’t parents. Or they think we are dwelling too much on our grief when we do something as simple as adding ornaments to the tree to honor our children who are not with us.
We dread going to the office Christmas party because we feel like we have nothing to talk about and we don’t really want to hear all about their offspring. It is socially acceptable for them to complain about their kids but not acceptable for us to complain about the exhaustion of being a bereaved parent. We have to remember it’s a party and talk about pleasant things, right? Never mind that we die a little more inside with each of their stories that we feel forced to endure with a fake smile.
Even in the loss community, we can feel like misfits since we have not gone on to have a child after loss. We risk being labeled as too negative when we point out that not everyone can, or will, go on to have a living child, as if our not speaking the truth will make it go away. And we are told we are raining on someone else’s joy when we ask for sensitivity to our situation, such as requesting no pregnancy announcements in loss groups.
I have reached the point, though, of embracing my misfit status. I am bitter, yes, just like a fine chocolate should be. I am different. I don’t have a Barbie figure, dream house or her inevitable perfect (living) children. But I don’t really want to be Barbie anyway. I would rather be real than spend all my time and effort faking perfection.
My heart has been irreparably broken but I am still loving and lovable. I am damaged and grieving because grief is the price of love. And I am okay with that. I am okay with me.
So to all my fellow misfits, I want to send you a virtual hug this holiday season. You are not alone. Come hang out on one of our islands of support. You will find others, like us, who know your feelings are normal and have felt the same way. We can be broken and different together.
- The Ornament - December 7, 2021
- Hobbies That Turn On Us - December 17, 2019
- The Devil Doesn’t Need More Advocates - December 3, 2019
I’m lucky to have you on my island of misfit toys, Reen.
Thanks Monica. I am grateful to have you too!
This is ringing true for me as a new still mama. I feel like such a misfit and don’t know how to have conversations with my friends who are parents anymore.
I am so sorry for your loss Pamela. It is hard navigating this life after loss.
Thanks for the read, Maureen. I was able to relate so much to this article, as I myself have had 5 losses and really struggle with many situations you touched on. As we all do, I usually put on a brave face and push through, but it is nice to sit back and read feelings sometimes and be able to relate and think to yourself.. yess, this is exactly how I feel.
Thank you for opening up and sharing! I will see you on the island of misfits for support!!
Thank you Nic. I am sorry that you also know the pain of so many losses. But yes, please do come join on us on the island for support; we are not alone!