Grieving the Grace: Why Mothers Need Compassion in Pregnancy, Birth, and Postpartum

Grieving the Grace

This is a piece inspired by my recent cacao ceremony for mothers in the North East. We gathered in Morpeth, some with babies, some alone. We sat together in a safe space to do nothing other than drink cacao. And what bubbled up in that hour was just magical.

A Cacao Ceremony for Mothers in the North East

A beautiful soul who I briefly met in pregnancy, and have met almost weekly through her first year post-birth, is now approaching her one-year mark with her baby earth side. She said something so heartbreakingly beautiful and true that I feel called to explore it more deeply.

“In the Early Months as a Mother You Are Given So Much Grace”

“In the early months as a mother you are given so much grace. But then it disappears…”

And it resonated with every mother in the room. The grace period differs for every woman and depends on both the support she has around her and the capacity she has to give grace to herself.

Because every mother’s experience is so unique, I write this blog from my personal experience. But the aim of the piece as a whole is to invite you to explore the period of grace you received from the moment you conceived your baby to the moment the grace disappeared.

What Do We Mean by Grace?

Let’s first of all define grace. Such a beautiful term, but what was the woman who used the phrase referring to?

Mainly to allowing herself to slow down, to almost stop. To rest when it was needed. To only say yes to things that she knew she could manage (no matter how hard that felt). To be kind to herself about the things society tells us matter: productivity, achieving, napping alone or baby in a pram, weaning at six months, bouncing back. A break from conforming.

In other words, kindness to self. Compassion to self.

Kindness and Compassion to Self in Pregnancy and Postpartum

Did you have compassion and kindness for yourself in pregnancy and postpartum?

I certainly didn’t in my first experience. The process wasn’t efficient, it didn’t give me instant reward, and it wasn’t structured or plannable. I hated pregnancy until the final eight to six weeks, when I could confidently feel my baby moving and knew the chances of survival were high.

I hated the first six weeks as a mother. My birth experience left me feeling as though I had failed, although on paper it was intervention-free until the placenta delivery.

I found the interruption to sleep impossible and gave myself no grace to soften into motherhood because, quite honestly, I didn’t know how. I’d spent my whole life until post birth being really quite unkind to my physical body and to my emotional self.

Family Pressure and the Loss of Grace After Birth

And I hear this so often from first-time mothers. Especially when the baby they carry is the first grandchild, there is a pressure to gift to grandparents too.

It’s a hard decision for many about who sees the baby and how soon. And for many, as we now live so far away from our family, it means they have to stay in our house too.

There is no grace in this pressure.

Who Gets to Decide What a New Mother Needs?

What you need, as a first-time mother especially, is the understanding that you might not know what you need until the moment you need it. And actually, in most circumstances, that can be given within a day of travel from a family member. It’s also OK to change your mind.

The Lack of Grace in How We Prepare for Birth

Then you come to processing your birth experience. The culture we live in almost demands that we prepare for birth, that we “learn how to do it.”

Now, I believe on a really deep level in my body that all women instinctively know how to birth their babies.

The problem we have in the UK is that medical management puts so much pressure on us to fit a norm. But nature doesn’t follow rules and regulations. We are not given the grace we need to labour our children—not in hospital anyway.

And we are also not really treated with grace when home birth is considered, often met with “what ifs” and “you shoulds.” Or being refused the option as midwives are so over whelmed in hospital home births in the area are not offered. It’s such a tricky place to navigate.

When Birth Does Not Go as Hoped

We have birth interventions that can be unpleasant for the woman, and this really impacts how she feels after her baby is in her arms—either because of the medication put into her system or because she felt she wasn’t listened to.

Again, grace here is twofold. Some women do have incredible births, and trust me when I say the feeling of birthing in your own way (chosen intervention or physiological) is incredible. It brings such power and strength and sheer gratitude for your body.

But others who did not have the birth they hoped for will go through a period of grieving.

“At Least the Baby Is Safe”

Where Is the Grace for the Mother?

And often there is no grace given to grieve.

We are told to be grateful our baby is safe. And yes, a safe baby is so important, especially when many women lose one or more babies before holding the one they get to mother.

But that life should not be at a huge expense to the mother.

I hear the sound of these words whispered by so many women:

“But what about me?”

You Matter Too: Why Mothers Need Grace

You matter too. You matter more, because you have to raise your baby.

Grace is so important here—kindness, compassion to self.

We have to understand the grief that comes from the loss of a birth experience we hoped to have.

The grief that comes when we can’t feed our baby in the way we wanted to.

The grief that comes when the penny drops that this life is forever. You can grieve your old life. You deserve to grieve your old life and be met with nothing other than listening ears, a hand on your arm, a cuddle perhaps.

Grace.

Grace in the First 5–10 Years of Motherhood

As mothers, grace is a requirement—especially in the first five to ten years—because everything is constantly shifting and changing. Your baby or child, your body. Many of us will be approaching the perimenopause transition of our life by the time our younger children are ten.

Grace.

Women Holding Women: Creating Safe Spaces for Mothers

If we cannot get grace from our family, then as mothers we need to be able to give it to one another.

And here I see the women in my circles do this so beautifully. Thanking each other for sharing their vulnerabilities. Not offering advice. Just witnessing each other in their own difficulties. Hearing one another.

A Bubble of Grace in My Classes

Not all mothers can do this, but in my classes we create a bubble where anything is safe. Words said, babies crying, mothers crying, leaking from nappies or from breasts—it’s all OK.

We give ourselves grace for the huge undertaking we are experiencing.

Grace in the constant transition.

Grace.

Love, kindness, and compassion to oneself.

Finding Grace When the Gift Disappears

Some of you will have been gifted grace by others for some time. But the period will end. And then we have to dig deep to find it for ourselves.

We might do it by journaling, or lighting a candle, taking five deep breaths, or massaging your womb space. You might book a cacao ceremony or a massage. I do all of these things and have practiced them consistently for 12 months and the change in my mindset has been really quite transformational. The grace I have for myself is now allowing me to hold you with Grace in more ways. Massage, closing the bones one to one support for pelvic floor dysfunction. They will all hold you safely so that you can mother your babies with love and kindness.

Grace Lives Within Us and Between Us

The real grace can be found in ourselves, in our hearts—especially when we know we have a community, or even just one person, who sees us completely, in our entirety.

Grace.

Let’s build it for each other. Together.