Every Mother’s Day After Abortion I Hold Two Things at Once: Loss and Love

Mother’s Day after abortion can be joyful and painful at the same time.

One mom shares her story, including what finally helped her heal after abortion.

 

The card came home in my son’s backpack on a Thursday. Folded construction paper, slightly crooked, his name written in that careful second-grade printing where every letter is a little too big and a little too deliberate. On the front he’d drawn me with curly black crayon hair and what I think were flowers, or possibly fireworks. Inside: Happy Mothers Day. You are the best mom. I love you 100.

I stood at the kitchen counter and read it twice. I laughed at the drawing. I put it on the refrigerator. And then I stood there a little longer. Because something else came up right alongside the warmth — quiet, familiar, the way it always does this time of year.

I had an abortion. And every Mother’s Day, I hold two things at once. I’ve been doing it for years, and I’m still figuring out how.

WHEN MOTHER’S DAY AFTER ABORTION HIT ME HARD

My abortion was several years before that moment at the kitchen counter. I already had one child — my daughter, who was a toddler at the time. My son wasn’t born yet.

The circumstances felt impossible. I won’t detail all of it here, because honestly, most women reading this don’t need me to explain what “impossible circumstances” means. You’ve lived your own version. What I’ll say is that it came from fear, from pressure, from a kind of desperate math I kept doing in my head — weighing what I could handle, what was fair to my daughter, what our relationship could hold.

I moved forward. And for a little while, I was fine.

The first Mother’s Day after the abortion was actually okay. I think I was still in that mode where you just keep going — next task, next day, next thing. My daughter made something at daycare involving a lot of glitter, and I felt real, genuine happiness about it. I remember thinking maybe I was going to be okay.

The second Mother’s Day was harder. I don’t know exactly why the second one landed differently — I’ve talked to other women who say the same thing, that it’s not always the first anniversary of anything that hit hard. Sometimes it takes longer. Sometimes it just pops up when you’re not looking.

I remember standing in the greeting card aisle, waiting while my husband picked something out for his mom, and feeling suddenly like I needed to leave. Not dramatically — I didn’t cry in the store or anything. I just felt this weight settle in, and I wanted to be somewhere else.

I didn’t tell my husband what I was feeling. Not that day.

HIDING MOTHER’S DAY GRIEF AFTER ABORTION — EVEN FROM PEOPLE WHO LOVE ME

For a long time, neither of us really talked about the abortion. And he didn’t really know what Mother’s Day had become for me. He’s a good man. He loves me well. But I think he had his own quiet grief about it too, and neither of us knew how to bring it into the open. So we did what a lot of couples do — we just kept going. 

He’d bring me flowers, try to make the day special, watch me to see if I was okay without actually asking. And I’d smile and let the day happen around us. Both of us carrying something the other couldn’t quite see.

I felt guilty that I couldn’t just be happy on Mother’s Day. I had these two kids who were healthy and funny and mine. I had a husband who showed up for me. What right did I have to be sad?

That question kept me stuck for longer than I like to admit.

FINDING HEALING AFTER ABORTION — THE YEAR SOMETHING FINALLY CHANGED

I don’t remember exactly when I first found the Keys to Hope and Healing book and videos from Support After Abortion. I think someone mentioned it, and I downloaded it mostly out of curiosity, not really expecting it to matter.

But something in it spoke to me. It named things I hadn’t let myself name. It asked questions I hadn’t let myself think about. There’s a section on grief — on moving through it rather than around it or avoiding it — and I remember sitting there for a long time, just feeling like someone actually understood.

One of the things it talks about is memorialization — finding some way, even privately, to acknowledge what happened and the struggle you’re carrying and to honor your child. I hadn’t done anything like that. I’d done the opposite, keeping everything tucked away, keeping a lid on it all.

That year I started doing something small on Mother’s Day — something different than just avoiding. Sometimes I write in a journal — nothing organized, just whatever comes. Some years I take a walk before the kids wake up. One year I planted a bush — it flowers every year since around Mother’s Day. Sometimes it’s really simple, maybe even small. But these moments change something in me. They let me acknowledge that my loss was real, that it deserves a moment, that it’s okay to grieve it.

HOW MY HUSBAND SUPPORTS ME ON MOTHER’S DAY AFTER ABORTION

The shift in our conversations happened gradually, without any single big talk. And at some point I told him more about what Mother’s Day actually felt like for me. Not everything at once, just things I’d never said before. He listened, which was what I needed—and he asked what might help.

He started giving me a little space on Mother’s Day. One year we all went to a park, and while he pushed the kids on the swing and watched them at the playground, I walked around the little lake, just thinking about whatever came up. There’s something about being alone by choice — on your own terms — that feels completely different from the loneliness of carrying something in secret. It felt like room to breathe.

These days he’ll sometimes just check in — a hand on my shoulder, a quiet How are you doing today? — and that’s enough. He doesn’t need to fully understand to show up. 

WHAT MOTHER’S DAY AFTER ABORTION IS LIKE NOW

Our daughter is older now. Our son is the one making crayon cards with fireworks. They both have opinions about where we should eat and whether the restaurant has good desserts. They argue about what movie to watch after dinner and want me to settle it. It’s loud and imperfect and I love it completely.

And every year, at some point during that day, I get a little quiet. The grief still comes. It’s softer now — more like an ache than a wound. But it comes, and I’ve stopped trying to push it away.

What I’ve learned is that the grief and the joy don’t have to compete. They’re both true. They’re both me. I can put my son’s crayon card on the refrigerator and still feel the weight of a different story — the card that isn’t there — and neither one cancels the other out.

For a long time I thought healing meant the grief would disappear. That’s not what happened. Healing, for me, meant I stopped being afraid of it. Stopped needing to hide it or justify it. It became part of the day — part of me — and I carry it without it breaking me.

IF YOU’RE HOLDING TWO THINGS ON MOTHER’S DAY AFTER ABORTION TOO

If you’re heading into Mother’s Day and any of this feels familiar — the weight alongside the warmth, the hiding it, the guilt about not being able to just be happy — you’re in familiar company. A lot of women are walking into the day carrying more than anyone around them knows.

Mother’s Day will probably always be two things for me. But these days, both of them get to show up—and that feels like enough.

Support After Abortion offers free, anonymous support for people navigating their abortion experiences — including around difficult days like Mother’s Day. 

Want someone to listen?

Reach out to the After Abortion Line for a compassionate, anonymous conversation. You can call or text 844-289-HOPE (4673), email, or use webchat at supportafterabortion.com. You can share as much or as little as you want. 

Looking for a place to start?

• Keys to Hope and Healing is a secular resource with short readings, reflection questions, and optional videos and journals you can work through at your own pace, with a mentor, or in a group. There are versions for women and men.
• Hearing other women’s stories of their abortions and healing journeys can often help you as you navigate your own healing after abortion.
• Want to share your story? Sometimes putting it into words can help you process what you’ve been carrying.

However Mother’s Day finds you this year — in the grief, in the joy, or somewhere in the middle holding both — there’s support for you. You matter. And we’re here for you.

This story reflects real experiences shared with Support After Abortion. Details have been combined and adapted to protect privacy.