Momma Guilt: A Whole New Ball Game…

It’s been a dark, dreary, grey week at the office, figuratively speaking, that is. We’ve not had much positive light shed upon our little work family in the last three days. Death and despair have hit us in the last two days which has left us all virtually speechless.

I wrote yesterday about my woes as a mother and the hard decisions we sometimes have to make as a parent that could possibly dampen the spirits of our little ones. I spoke about the Momma Guilt I feel for not being able to take Tucker to his first day of 4-year-old preschool. My heart is sad because I’ll miss out on that smile and the bright anxious eyes as he approaches the classroom.

The news we received today put all of my Momma Guilt in an entirely new perspective.

A co-worker and his wife are expecting their first child this fall. Yesterday they were told the worst news any expecting parents could possibly receive.

After two ultrasounds the doctors told them that their baby, their flesh and blood, would not survive after delivery. They told them that the baby had only a 5% chance of actually surviving the birth and a 0% chance of surviving the world thereafter.

How do you, as a PARENT, survive this kind of news?

How do you digest the fact that the joy and overwhelming sense of love and devotion you’ve felt for the duration of your pregnancy is going to be ripped to shreds?

How do you face all of the questions and glances and darting eyes because everyone hurts for you but is too scared to talk about it?

How do you not scream out at God in anger?

When we heard this news this morning my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. I wept silently in the bathroom because my Momma Guilt took on a whole new life and shape.

I wept for their pain and anguish. I wept for the fact that I will be a constant reminder of their loss as my already swollen belly continues to grow. I wept because I know the pain of a lost pregnancy and the anger and hurt you feel at seeing a life grow in someone else and the rage at the ever nagging question, “Why us, God! Why us!” I don’t want to be that person. I can’t even begin to fathom the depth of pain of carrying a baby to term just to be told your child won’t survive in this world. I can’t bear the thought of leaving the hospital empty handed and empty hearted.

I wept this morning because Momma Guilt is a badge that I GET to carry. I am a fortunate woman to be able to hold the title of “Mommy” from a tiny little voice. I am blessed to bear the burden of the daily labor of the mommy job.

So, Momma Guilt took on a whole new meaning for me today. The tiny nagging guilt I feel for the healthy child I have in my womb that isn’t fair to someone so deserving of parenthood as my friend and his wife. The guilt of the possibility of letting my baby down I am now feeling honored to bear that I will try never again to complain about.

Please say a prayer for my friend, his wife and their unborn baby. I am praying with all I have that there is an ounce of hope and a chance the doctors are wrong. I am praying to a merciful God who blesses us with miracles everyday. Please pray with me…

Peace, love and the GIFT of Mommy Guilt.


One thought on “Momma Guilt: A Whole New Ball Game…

  1. I know someone who went through this. When their little one was born, they held her as she passed away. They then chose to take her home for some quiet time with her, to grieve and hold her and say goodbye in private. They also had a photographer come in to capture some images of their baby — pictures of her little hands and feet, of mom and dad holding her, etc. It makes me cry to think about it. They really treasure those pictures. I think that having the pictures of her and the time alone with her has helped them a lot with their loss.

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