Receiving a Fatal Diagnosis {Lindsey’s Story}
Each child gone ahead from among us is a precious person made in the image of God—and all having been made into Hope Moms, we together declare motherhood in each of our journeys. We are eager to go above and beyond in showing honor and love for one another (Rom. 12:10, 15). Through this series, we honor each other’s experiences of motherhood in love through our shared God of hope.
After I carried and birthed two children with a fatal diagnosis, two children who did not live more than a few hours, I felt like much of motherhood was not mine to declare. Of course, I was a mom, but not like all the other moms I saw. I didn’t know what it was like to change my babies dirty diapers or have sleepless nights. Every mark of motherhood I saw felt like a mark of motherhood that I did not have. It took me time to see all of the ways that I truly had become a mom through the life and death of my first two daughters and even all the ways I still functioned as a mom afterwards.
It looked different than the “norm” but it held more similarities than I realized, albeit in much different packaging.
I imagine if you are reading this you have either carried a child to term with a fatal diagnosis or you are carrying one right now. I want to share four aspects of motherhood (there are many more) that are true of a woman who has received a fatal diagnosis.
The Grace of Motherhood
Grace: An undeserved gift.
The free gift we are given when we receive Christ as our Lord and Savior—unmerited, unearned, and totally free. Grace offered to us in the midst of all the wrong we have ever done and will do. Every mother is in need of being reminded of the grace they were given at the cross. For every day a mother fails—fails her children, fails in her expectation of herself, fails to love well, fails to make every right choice. BUT, a mother who knows Jesus need not despair at all her failings, for she now stands in grace.
Every day I carried my girls, I wondered if I was loving and honoring them well. I felt guilt for the things I thought, the ways I wish I would have or could have loved them better. I felt guilt for the ways my grief effected how I reacted to others—grief that came out of the exhaustion of carrying a child and knowing they would not live—a tension in my heart that led me to a constant need to be aware of my need for grace.
Have you seen your shortcomings, your failings, your guilt over things you wish you could have done differently? Then you bear the mark of all mothers, and you are a mother who can display the grace every mother needs, and every mother must run to daily. It is the beautiful grace of motherhood. As we run to His grace we display the beauty of the cross and the hope of the resurrection more powerfully in our motherhood.
The Sacrifice of Motherhood
Sacrifice: surrender of something for the sake of something else.
To lay down one’s’ life for another. To give of oneself. Every mother lays down her life for her children every single day.
Every mother makes choices to do what is best for their child even at the cost to themselves. Sometimes we do this well and sometimes we don‘t (thus the need for grace!). But choosing to carry a child to term, to sacrifice your body and potentially your future fertility, laying down hopes and dreams so that your child can have life, is the most beautiful sacrifice a mother can give. And every mother must face this reality, whether in life or death, that to be a mother is to sacrifice oneself for her children.
Have you sacrificed something/anything for the sake of your child? Then you bear the mark of all mothers who must choose to lay down their lives daily to love and care for those entrusted to them for as long as God gives them. It is the beautiful sacrifice of motherhood, displaying just as Christ did that “there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13, NLT) There is no greater love than a mother laying down her life for her child.
The Joy of Motherhood
Joy: a source or cause of delight
Throughout history children have brought joy to mothers. Of course that can become warped in our broken world, but the norm of motherhood is joy—joy at watching their children grow in the womb and outside, joy at getting to have a child at all.
There was a difference in my joy for the life of my daughter growing inside of me after I found out her condition at 20 weeks pregnant. All my discomforts, all her kicks and movements, took on new meaning and brought fresh joy to my heart. And though I grieved, and still grieve, not getting to experience the joy of watching her and her little sister grow up, their very existence brings me much joy. My moments with them, however brief, brought me JOY. The joy of being a mom, of having children, and just knowing they were chosen to be my daughters.
Every mother experiences the joy of motherhood, of delighting in their children. And just because those of us whose time with our children has only been in the womb, and perhaps a few moments out side of the womb, doesn’t mean that joy has not been seen. It may be hidden in the midst of all of our grief, but I’m confident it is there.
Has your child brought you joy in any way or form? Then you bear the mark of all mothers, displaying the delight of our Heavenly Father as you delight in your children whether in your arms today, or waiting for you in heaven.
The Renewed Identity In Motherhood
Identity: The distinguishing character of an individual.
When I became pregnant with my first daughter, motherhood became my identity in many ways. And after she died, I no longer knew what to do with myself. What was my identity now? I was a mom with no child in my arms. I wanted my identity to be in my motherhood, and I realized it could not be. When I lost my second child I struggled with the same feelings again. Now, I was a mom of two with neither in my arms. Who was I?
As I have seen other mothers walk this journey with living children my questions are not unlike theirs. Motherhood is all consuming, and can feel as if it now defines us, as we welcome a child into our arms and homes. I have watched other women struggle with who they are after they begin to parent a child. Some find their identity in their motherhood, others try desperately to keep their identity alive in other areas.
But the truth is our motherhood does not define us whether our child is alive in our arms or not. We are mothers, but it is not the whole of who we are. First, we are children of the King. Our identity rests in our Savior. And that identity flows into all that He has asked us to steward with our lives, all of the different roles He gives, and how He chooses to give them. This has freed me to embrace the motherhood God has given me, grieving what He has not, and ultimately learning afresh what He has called me to first as His daughter.
EVERY mother, in whatever season of motherhood they are in, must wrestle with this, and discover where the whole of their identity lies. Not in their children, or their roles, but in their Savior. Have you wondered who you are now as a mother who is unable to parent their child? Then you bear the mark of all mothers, and must discover afresh where your true identity lies—grieving what is lost, while holding on to what has been given. A woman given the gift of motherhood, but more importantly the gift of being a daughter of the King.
- Lindsey
Hope Mom to Sophie and Dasah
Hi! I’m Lindsey. I live in Orlando, Florida with my stud of a husband Kevin. We have 3 incredible children, Sophie and Dasah who now live with Jesus and Jaden who came into our lives through adoption. We have a very energetic golden retriever and love living in the sunshine state. I get to spend my days loving on my son, investing my life in college students here through a non-profit organization we’re a part of and when I have time, writing on my blog about the hope that doesn’t disappoint!
Are you a writer who would like to join the blog team? Learn more and apply here.
Widget not in any sidebars
Got something to say?