Finding Grace on Mother’s Day

I was fourteen weeks pregnant. It was Mother’s Day weekend, and we had gathered with my husband’s extended family for a reunion. There was a buzz of excitement from everyone because my first ultrasound appointment was scheduled for the next day. All afternoon there were hands gently caressing my belly and guesses as to the gender of this newest addition to the family.

I was radiating with joy as we left to drive home later that evening. This sweet babe was already so loved, and it was an incredible blessing to be surrounded by so many people who were anticipating this little one’s arrival nearly as much as I was. I couldn’t wait to text them all in the morning to show them the first ultrasound photo from the appointment.

The next morning, however, everything changed. Instead of getting to watch my baby squirm and move on the monitor, I stared with tear-filled eyes at his stilled heart. The wretchedness of that moment will forever be etched in my memory.

This devastating news came as such a shock to me. There is no comparison to the closeness experienced between a mother and the baby she carries in her womb. We were so intricately connected, him and I.  How could I not have known? Just the day before I had been celebrating Mother’s Day, yet my baby had died without me even knowing it. What kind of mother was I? My body had failed him. I had failed him. Or so I believed.

I became sick to my stomach when I thought of my baby passing into glory while I was unaware. I felt like I should have known better, done better. It seemed wrong that I had allowed myself to be celebrated as a mother the day before, while unbeknownst to me my son’s heart had stopped beating within me. I heaped guilt unto the already tremendous burden of grief that I carried.

The following year, as Mother’s Day drew closer, that burden of guilt increased. Not only did the approach of Simeon’s glory day leave my heart feeling heavy with grief, but I had walked through the loss of another babe in the course of that year—another baby that had silently passed without me knowing, another baby that I had failed to shelter from death’s grasp.

I didn’t really talk to anyone about the guilt that I felt over my babies’ deaths. After all, being a pastor’s wife, I ought to be able to grieve with unwavering hope and joy, right? Everyone was watching me, and I needed to set the right example in my sorrow. Deep down, I knew that there was nothing I could have done to prevent their deaths, and that it was the Lord who numbered their days, not me. But, there were still so many days that I went to battle against the self-blame that had taken residence in my heart.

I didn’t just feel like I had failed my babies, I felt like I had failed God. He had given these precious babes to me to love and nurture. Maybe if I was a better mother to my living children, He woul have allowed these babies to live. Maybe if I was more devoted to Him, they would still be here with me. Guilt upon guilt.

Then, one morning as I was reading my Bible, I stumbled upon a verse that completely changed my perspective.

“Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
Hebrews 4:16

I realized that I had not been approaching God’s throne with confidence. Oh, I had been in prayer and in the Word daily. I believed that God was good and that He was worthy of my praise. I had placed my trust in His sovereign care for me. But each time I came before His throne, I brought a little of that guilt with me.

All these months, I had been carrying an unnecessary burden by believing that I wasn’t a good enough mother to my babies in glory—that I should have instinctively known each time that something had gone wrong or been able to prevent it from happening. I had been dreading the approach of Mother’s Day, because I felt like I had forfeited my right to bear that title when my babies passed without my knowing.

All along, I should have been running to the throne with open arms, ready to receive mercy from the Lord in my time of need. I should have been laying my feelings of guilt at His feet and picking up His grace instead. Oh, what freedom and peace His grace brings to the grieving heart.

Mother’s Day arrived, and I was able to truly celebrate the precious gift it was to be a mother—both to my children here on earth and my babies who have gone home before me. I had found the rest my soul so desperately needed. The truths that I knew in my head about the Lord’s unrelenting love and care for me began to settle deep into my heart as I laid down my burden of guilt and picked up His yoke of grace.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Matthew 11:28-30

This Mother’s Day marks five years since my Simeon went to be with the Lord, but it also marks five years of the outpouring of God’s grace into my grieving heart. Sweet sister, if your heart is burdened with guilt, fear, anger, or confusion, there is an abundance of grace waiting for you before the throne of God. Will you leave these burdens at His feet? The loss of a baby is a heavy enough weight to bear without the addition of these things. Because of Christ’s death and resurrection, you can approach the throne with confidence to find mercy and grace to help you in your time of need.

Ashlee is the Editorial Coordinator for Hope Mommies. She and her husband, Jesse, have four children on earth and two little ones in Heaven. You can get to know her more by reading her blog, Beyond Undone.

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