There are people in this world that think, because your baby has died, in the womb or out of the womb, you are not a mother. There are people in this world who think you have to have a ‘living’ child to be called “A Mother.” I don’t want to call these people wrong, but instead, unaware.
I became a mother, the very first time I saw the ‘positive’ pregnancy test. Of course, I had hopes and dreams before then, but my motherhood was confirmed with that first little pink + sign. This happened 3 more times after the first. Each time, I was thrilled. Each time, I was scared. I always prayed for a healthy child. Boys or girls…It didn’t matter to me.
I will never forget telling my husband that I was pregnant for the 4th time. His words to me jokingly “Well, we already got three…what’s one more.” We had one boy and two girls already. This time I prayed for another little boy. My prayers were answered.
Maddux Achilles Haggard was born on February 4th, 2005 with a condition called Myotubular Myopathy. A condition that is mostly fatal to boys. On the 6th day of his young life, my husband and I removed him from the tubes and wires that had sustained his life.
I remember coming home, thinking if I couldn’t be Maddux’s mom, I didn’t deserve to be anyone’s mom. Over the next few days and months, I realized that every decision I made, Maddux was connected to that decision. Things I did for my older children, things I did for him, things I did for myself and others. He wasn’t here with me physically in my arms, but he was always in my heart and on my mind. I still parent him but from afar. Even by writing this article, or in a journal, I am ‘parenting him’ in my own way.
Maddux will always be my son, and I will always be his mother. The bond between mother and child is the strongest, and death will never take that away from me, or from you. Always remember that. And forgive those who don’t know any better. They haven’t walked in our shoes.