Names of My Children

Here we go again: Mother’s Day. This day invariably brings up grief for the children I wanted but never had. This grief, while uncomfortable and distressing, is a natural reaction to the loss of carefully planned hopes and dreams in my life.

But how to grieve for these children?

There are many ways to grieve for our lost children. Some who have endured miscarriage and been able to gather their baby’s remains have chosen to bury those parts of their baby. Some who had ultrasound photos of their baby have buried these photos, or framed them, or set them up as part of a shrine or memorial.

I was never pregnant. I never tried to have a child. When medical conditions made it too dangerous for me to try to conceive, I was at a loss as to how to grieve. I had no child remains, no ultrasound photos, no crib to dismantle, no baby clothes to give away.

I needed a ritual of some kind.

While interviewing and researching for my book on childlessness, I came across many ways that childless people mark the loss of their babies and hold on to those precious memories, each as beautiful as the last.

Some planted a tree in memory of their child.

Some held a funeral or memorial service.

Some held on to their nursery items.

Some found a way to memorialise their carefully selected baby names, engraving them onto jewellery, writing a song or poem about them, or printing and framing their name as a kind of artwork displayed with pride.

I love the names chosen for my babies: Obadiah Lucas and Reema Grace. These names became the dedication for my book devoted to childlessness and to childless people around the world.

While part of us may let go of the dream of having children, part of us may always hold on to those desires, those children we nearly had, those little angels, those names, those hopes and plans we lost. It’s OK to hold on to those things. They are part of us. They have shaped us. And God cares very much about those parts of us.

Do you have a way of memorialising the children you wanted but never had? How has it been helpful to hold on to them? How has God been present in those rememberings? Share your story. Let’s have a countercultural conversation.

My book, Surviving Childlessness: Faith and Furbabies, can be purchased here: https://stephpenny.com.au/product/surviving-childlessness/

The song I wrote for my little angel, Reema Grace, can be found here: https://youtu.be/HLJ-Q5Fetkw?si=mr9EmiF_d9hjLtPQ