Commentary: I was a mother long before the world saw me as one

INVISIBLE MOTHERS AND CHILDREN

For thousands of women around the world who have lost a child, Mother’s Day is a grief minefield – you feel you deserve to be acknowledged, but yet the day is also a crushing reminder of your loss.

It wasn’t that I really wanted that flower from the waiter. I just wanted the acknowledgement that my daughter was born into this world, even if she never got the chance to live.

Although pregnancy loss is common, it remains a taboo subject. There isn’t enough conversation around it. Friends and relatives of those who have suffered a loss often shy away from talking about it, perhaps for fear of reminding mothers of their loss. Most do not know what to say.

Yes, it is painful to talk about, but it is even more painful to think that our children are invisible to others.

In Singapore, about 20 per cent of pregnancies end in a miscarriage – most of which take place in the first trimester.

For stillbirths – defined as a baby who dies at or after 28 weeks of pregnancy – about 1.9 million babies were stillborn globally in 2021. Singapore has one of the lowest stillbirth rates in the world, with 78 cases registered in 2021.

But no matter how common or low those rates may be, many women feel alone after experiencing a miscarriage or stillbirth. There’s a lot of shame and guilt involved, a lot of “what ifs” and “if only”. Well-intentioned advice and words of support from friends and family can come across as insensitive.

Women who have lost babies feel pressured to stay silent and to grieve alone, says a World Health Organization report. Often, they are also left alone to deal with intense physical changes after the miscarriage or stillbirth.

In my case, I was very affected a few days after the birth when I woke up with two wet patches on my T-shirt. My body was making milk, but there was no baby to feed.