Stripped of the Title “Mother” Too Early

Happy mother’s Day! Everyone around her was wishing a happy mother’s day. But what everyone did not know is that she wasn’t a mother. They all guessed she is of age to be a mother. She is 50 years old. Here is my sister’s story.

She got married young – 17 years old. Not because when was madly in love but because she was pregnant. My parents are stunt Catholics and so they couldn’t bear the shame. She and her then boyfriend had a “come we stay arrangement.”

We patiently waited for the baby with excitement and love. We spent most of our conversations speaking about baby names, sleepless nights, and the joy that was about to enter our lives. She is our firstborn and my mum could not hold back the joy of being called a grandma for the first time. For months, she emotionally and physically prepared for motherhood. She dreamt about the first cry, the first touch, and about holding the tiny hands against her chest. As the delivery date approached, we were all nervous and excited at the same time. However, none of us imagined that the day meant to bring life and happiness would instead leave behind unbearable grief.

But life had a different story awaiting.

Suddenly, there were severe complications during delivery.

A day that was full of hope suddenly turned into confusion, pain, and fear of the unknown. Everything spiralled out of control as doctors fought to save her life. I desperately prayed for my sister. I was still hopeful and anxious for good news amidst all the chaos. Suddenly, after two long hours of waiting, the doctors silently came out of the operating room with worried faces.

What came after shattered all of us.

The baby did not survive.

The world fell silent as the dreadful words sank in. A cold, crushing weight suddenly emptied out my chest as I watched my sister’s dream she carried for months disappear. The child we prayed for and loved before even meeting her was gone in a single moment. At the very moment she was supposed to begin motherhood, my sister was drowning in unimaginable grief.

The heartbreak didn’t end there.

After two days, she developed severe complications. She was rushed back to the OR. The doctors had to remove her womb to save her life. The pain was unbearable as there was never any possibility of ever carrying another child again.

She never imagined that she would wake up one day and be stripped of the title “mother.” She did not even experience it.

I remembered how she excitedly spoke about motherhood and the plans she had for the child. All of a sudden, she became silent –tears freely falling from her eyes. I watched my sister break in ways I never thought possible-motherhood and womanhood taken all at once.

What hurt me the most was seeing how people celebrated her survival and ignoring her pain. Every room she entered was filled with either silence or people murmuring. No one saw the emotional wound she carried or the nights she cried all alone. No one saw the emptiness she felt every time she saw another mother holding her child. Over the years, I can still see the emptiness in her and how her heart aches in every pregnancy announcement and every baby cry. Every mother’s day reopens a wound that could never heal.

I always tell her that in my heart I believe she is a mother.

She is a mother of the many children she is taking care of –including mine. Motherhood is not defined biologically, it is the love, sacrifice and bond created.

I am sharing my sister’s story because I have seen how women suffer silently and never speak such experiences openly in fear of being judged. The society expects them to remain strong, heal and move on as if nothing happened. Many women carry invisible grief behind forced smiles. Women who experience such trauma need understanding, compassion, and support instead of silence. Such wounds never heal completely.

Till today, my sister cry for the child she never met wondering what she would have become. But through it all, she continues to survive.

And although the world may not see it, I see the strength it takes for her to wake up every day carrying that kind of heartbreak.

My sister may have lost her baby. She may have lost her womb. But she did not lose the love she carried as a mother.

That love still lives within her, and it always will.