Walking With You ~ Mirror, Mirror ~ The Comparison Trap

This weeks talk on Walking With You: "Mothers often fall into the trap of comparing ourselves to one another. This is a trap many women fall into. We compare our families, mothering styles, fashion sense, careers or lack thereof, bodies, etc. Even mothers with babies in heaven compare the way we grieve our children. I know…sad…but we do it, if we’re honest enough to admit it. So, how can we find freedom from this? Sharing is a start…telling the truth…admitting the struggle. I think, then, we will see that we all love our children, regardless of how we choose to remember and honor their lives…whether publicly or quietly…with big parties or simple moments of remembrance. Be real on this week’s post, and let’s free ourselves from the trap of comparing!"


I often struggle on feeling as though my image needs to be equal or above that of other mother's/women, but quickly realize that we are all created in His image... so technically, we are all the same. When it comes down to the way I compare myself to another bereaved mother, and how she chooses to remember her child(ren), well the answer is simple, I don't. I have always felt completely comfortable in reading on how a mother was extravagant, or simple in the way in which she chose to honor the life of her child(ren). My problem stretches among the judgemental people, who turn their noses up... point their finger at how I choose to honor my son.

When it comes to keeping the memory of my son alive, I become a fierce mother... just as I am to the four precious boys that I endlessly take care of and give a tender motherly love to, on a daily basis...

In the beginning of my loss, I would mother Isaiah in secret. I had a feeling of shame as I thought on little things that I wanted to do for him. Just because of his absence in my physical life, did not mean that I did not have a mother's natural instinct to show my love to and for my child. I carried him within my womb for 19 weeks and 3 days. As each day passed, I grew more aware of his personality... I bonded with my son. I fell in love with the daydreams I had of holding him... loving him... bringing him home from the hospital... raising him.


I was his mama.

I.Am.His.Mama.


The duty of being a mother, does not get erased just because your child died. I know that can be a scary word, especially when speaking of a tiny innocent baby dying, but it happens. Instead of the weird looks or thoughts of others, I think that there could be a little more compassion for the parents who want to memorialize the life of their child. The world kept spinning, as our hearts became shattered. Some women, including myself, become frantic, trying to search for each piece, so that we can bring the pieces back together. It may be days, weeks, months, and some years... we have taken on a new shape, but that one very special piece cannot be found... Our child(ren) are gone, but somehow, still remain here with us. We medicate that empty hole, that missing piece, by doing unique things... whether it be that empty spot at the table, in the car, under the Christmas tree, on the blanket watching fireworks, etc. Our hearts become marinated in the love that we are able to give.

Have you ever thought what love really is, or what is the best way to show love?


Wikipedia states: "Love is an emotion of a strong affection and personal attachment."

I would have to agree to the above definition. I loved that little boy more than my fingers can type in an expression to describe... Personal attachment? I would have to fill my lungs with every ounce of oxygen that I could inhale, and shout out "Yes!"

God had to forsake Jesus at the cross... He never asked me to do the same to my son.


No more feeling shameful.

No more hiding.

No more whispering.

No more giving excuses.



He was my little boy.

He.Is.My.Little.Boy.



Until my dying day, I will mother my son, Isaiah Christopher Ross.

It may be by placing his baby chick on his grave at Easter, a pumpkin in the fall, a wreath during the Christmas season, having his birth date/name/footprints engraved in my back, etc. It may be as simple as baking and decorating a cake in honor of his life... of my deep undying love for my child...

This was Isaiah's 2nd. birthday cake. I bought the star candles to give it a little bit of heaven, and the two candles in the middle were for his birthday. While we were singing "Happy Birthday," the two middle candles went out, just as if he were there with us in that very moment, silently participating... whispering, "I am here mama... I love you"......



“You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth.”
― William W. Purkey