Sunday, 11 May 2014

Running Away on Mother’s Day

In this blog Larissa shares the story of her first Mother's Day:

A woman’s first Mother’s Day as a mother should be a happy day. It should be filled 
with family, joy and maybe even a gift or two if you’re lucky. I remember eagerly 
anticipating Mother’s Day 2013 – my first baby was to be three months old and I 
could finally stand up in church when they acknowledged all the mothers. I was 
excited, I was joyful. 

And then my baby died. 

My daughter was stillborn at full-term in January 2013 and Mother’s Day that year 
became a day to dread. The merchandise in the stores made me feel physically ill and 
I turned away if ever I saw a Mothers Day advert on TV. 
I couldn’t help but wonder if my family and friends would include me when they acknowledged the mothers in their lives, and I certainly didn’t want to be in church when they asked the mums to stand up or raise their hands. 
Would people look at me? Should I stand? Did people still think I was a mum? Many questions swirled through my mind whenever I thought of the upcoming day. 

As the day approached I became more and more anxious. I didn’t know what I wanted 
to do and I didn’t know how I would cope. So I did the only thing I could think of that would help: I ran away! 

My husband and I had been given some money to spend on a holiday when we felt we 
needed one. And boy, did I need one on Mother’s Day weekend! We booked a room 
at a fancy beachside hotel, planning to spoil ourselves a little and hopefully ease the 
pain of missing our daughter. Not only would I not have to face any people I knew, 
but I could also order room service if I really didn’t feel like seeing anyone. 

It was the perfect thing to do. I came down with a horrible cold the day before 
Mothers Day, but at least I was sick in a beautiful room with food being brought to 
me! I still missed my daughter, but at least I had the space to miss her in my own way. 
A short getaway was just what I needed – it meant I had something to look forward to 
on a day I was otherwise dreading. 

And for the record, we went to church that night and I raised my hand along with all 
the other mums. My baby may have died, but she still counts. Just like your baby. 


Larissa is a wife to Marcus and a mother to two beautiful children – Ariella Jade in 

Heaven and Levi William in her arms. She loves spaghetti bolognaise and the smell of 

rain, but neither of them could make her smile when, after a textbook pregnancy, 
Ariella unexpectedly died at 39 weeks gestation. No reason was ever found for her 
death. Soon after Ariella’s death Larissa began writing. You can find her posts at 

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