How to Survive Mother's Day for the Childless

How to Survive Mother’s Day for the Childless

Do you do this too? When you see the post on Facebook that says “Blessed mamma” or “God trusted me with…” or “I get to do the most important job in the world” do you actually hear “You’re not blessed” or “God doesn’t trust you with…” or “Your life/purpose doesn’t matter?”

Ouch, right? Guilty.

I so desperately don’t want to be pitied.

However, every Mother’s Day I am kind of pitiful. I weave in and out of deep sorrow and bravery. There is no way around this one, Mother’s Day is hard. Can I get a witness? Even when you’re completely and insanely happy, for the childless, this day is polarizing. Nobody wants to feel different. Nobody wants to be reminded of empty arms and quiet homes. Nobody wants to feel alone.

But, before I go on, I must say this. For all the mothers out there, I don’t want you to read this and think you can’t dote on your children and celebrate whole-heartedly on this day. You are cherished and brave and you deserve this. I grew up with a wonderful Mother, one who always cared deeply about my true feelings and gave me the belief that how I felt mattered. She is why I can stand here today and say: Today sucks. I also grew up with five strong, beautiful, and maternal Aunts. Some are mothers of their own, some struggle with my same story, but all of them I consider mine. I am so thankful for that starting five. They all played an integral role in my upbring. Because #ittakesavillage. We, the childless, celebrate moms.

How to Survive Mother's Day for the Childless

This post, however, is a word for you. The one out there that has stumbled upon this post desperately searching for strength and needing to feel affirmed. The one that knows this struggle all too well. (Hey, cutie). We can’t control the world, THAT much has been made perfectly clear in our lives. I wish I could stop all those comments on Facebook, I wish I could make your Instagram feed comforting. I wish I could literally grab you up in my arms and hug you. I wish that we could get together and feel normal together.

I can’t. And that makes me insatiably sad. We have a tough road. It has been ingrained in us that what matters most of all in life is children. I grew up with plastic baby dolls that I fed with fake bottles and strolled around the neighborhood with flimsy pink plastic strollers. I was told that the greatest joy in life was to grow up, get married, and start a family. How many times did I do the math telling me the age I would be when my kids graduated if …? My husband and I have had countless talks about when our kids will be allowed to date, how will we handle puberty, and who will hand out the discipline. Yet, here we are.

And it’s not just externally ingrained. My thighs hold extra fat as a storage for bearing life. I have parts that are meant to feed and are now…  just cosmetic. I have instincts that I cannot explain. I am reminded, in pain, every month that I am and continue to be, childless. I have hips that protrude for caring. I have built-in fears that are there for me to protect a toddler from danger. This is grief at the most biological level.

I really can’t help you. I have no magic word, no incantation or essential oil that can fix this. What I can do is tell you: What you do is valuable. You have been trusted with this story. You matter.

What I do is valuable. I have been trusted with this story. I matter.

And this, being our third Mother’s Day after deciding to TTC*, I wanted to share with you what has helped me get through this difficult day.

How to Survive Mother’s Day for the Childless

Don’t Do Social Media

Don’t go on Facebook or Instagram or Twitter. STOP THAT RIGHT NOW. Put down your phone and slowly back away. Put it under lock and key if you have to, do not go into that dangerous space that has no place in our hurting hearts. You don’t need to read that, you don’t need to post anything, you don’t need to like anyone’s post, and you don’t even have to acknowledge the moms in your life there. Call your people, and tell them that you love them. That means more, anyway.

Do Something You love

Make this day special. Go out to breakfast. Enjoy a hike. Eat that food that is not on your diet plan. Listen to me dear, take care of yourself. Leave for the weekend. Bake your favorite cookies. Grab a coffee and spend hours in the Book Bin.

How to Survive Mother's Day for the Childless

Don’t Make Yourself Go

Don’t go to Church. Don’t go to that get-together. Don’t feel obligated to be in desolation for other’s sake. Whoa Karlee, stop right there, now you’re talking crazy. Ladies, I’m not. Recognize your triggers. I cannot be looked at with mournful eyes. I cannot have people second guessing what they just said to me and looking at me like I’m a nuclear bomb just about to explode. When you start to feel guilty for missing these things remember: The ones that truly love you don’t want you to suffer for their gain.

How to Survive Mother's Day for the Childless

Do Spend Time with Your Person

If you have one, spend time with your significant other. If you are childless together, then be together. Hear me on this: BE TOGETHER. Do not let this place a wedge between you two. Stay with me, I’m about to drop a bomb. Everyone grieves differently. Listen to them, let them stay quiet, take them seriously, laugh at their jokes. If I give you anything today, it is this: What you lack in time with children you gain in the bounty of time to be with each other. BE TOGETHER.

How to Survive Mother's Day for the Childless

Don’t Linger on the Pain

Don’t focus on what you don’t have but celebrate, always celebrate what you do have. Focus on those things on this day. Make a long list of everything you are thankful for. From the big things to the smallest of details. I am so incredibly thankful for the sound of a lawn mower on a sunny day. I am also in awe of the person I get to spend my life with. Be thankful.

How to Survive Mother's Day for the Childless

Do YOU

Take it easy on yourself. If, even after all this, you still cry, that’s okay. Don’t ever try to hide or disguise your feelings. If what you truly need on this day is to grieve, then grieve. If what you truly need is to be around people, then be around people. If you need to talk it out, find a safe person. If you just need to take an hour-long bath with Lush Bath Bombs, then load up, sweetie. You own this day too.

How to Survive Mother's Day for the Childless


For all you lovely women with beautiful children reading this post to the very end, desperately trying to understand because you want to love on your friend in the same boat, thank you. Being a friend to us is probably hard. I know that. We appreciate you.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the Moms, but in particular, to my Mom, Karen. Happy Mother’s Day to all my Aunts, to both my grandmas (Hi, Grandma Rita and G-ma Sherrill!). Happy Mother’s Day to my suegra**. Happy Mother’s Day to my very best girlfriends who make motherhood look easy! I love you.

Finally, Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms at heart, big sisters, godmothers and role models. Happy Mother’s Day to the mothers in grief, mothers of addicts, mothers of loss, mothers of miscarriage, mothers waiting in adoption. I see you.

-Karlee

How to Survive Mother's Day for the Childless

*trying to conceive
**mother-in-law

54 thoughts on “How to Survive Mother’s Day for the Childless”

  1. Thank you so much for this! I am the 44 year old single, never been married,and childless social pariah. I am starting the Mother’s Day weekend by attending the wedding of my youngest cousin. I’m the last to not be married, and most likely will be the last to be without children. I have been feeling it, and feeling very worthless because of it. I know you can’t make it better, but you did ease the burden. Thinking of you, and all of us, in prayer this weekend.

    1. Girl, I totally get that. And I have a very DEAR friend in that same situation. I totally understand that idea of the “social pariah”. It’s so hard. I’m so thankful that you read this and wrote! WE are not alone! WE look different and we still have a #blessed life. Take it easy this weekend, and make sure you do something JUST for you. Prayers right back atcha!

  2. Karlee, You are valuable, You are trusted and You do Matter. I’m not saying this to pity you; just know that I am so sorry you have to bear this heartache (both you and Daniel). I keep you in my thoughts and prayers. Sincerely, Mary

  3. I am her– the one you mentioned– “the one out there that has stumbled upon this post desperately searching for strength and needing to feel affirmed”… or, at least one of the many who that statement refers to. I found your post and it was a godsend. You are a godsend. Thank you so much for your words and your thoughts.

    1. Well, Megan… This literally made me cry. Not out of sadness but knowing that you felt heard. That’s all I ever wanted. Such a hard time of year, a hard struggle. But you are so not alone in this. Cannot thank you enough for reaching out. I’ll be thinking of you this weekend!

  4. Hi there. I am her too, the someone who searched for soneone else who shares my story and my experience. I wish I read your article before going to church today. Lol. It was definitely my trigger. Sigh I get it. Thank you for writing.

    1. Of course!!! I wish church was as safe a place as it usually is 51 days of the year! Hope you took care of yourself and enjoyed a coffee or good book! we are not alone

  5. Thank you for writing this article. This year it all feels tougher than ever. We are the only couple of our age at church who are childless. After a difficult Mothers’ day service a year or two back after which our minister said ‘well why were you at church on Mothers’ Day?’, we don’t go. I can’t bear the little posy everyone gets. It’s like they deserve it and I don’t – and they think they’re being kind and inclusive.

    1. Absolutely. Church on mothers day is the hardest day of the year… I just don’t even go. I’m so sorry you’re going through the thick of it right now. You do deserve it. We all deserve love and recognition. Even if it’s just for a mothers heart. Stay strong, my friend. We can do this.

    2. Our church gives every woman a flower on mother’s day. The first year I went there, I declined the offer, explaining that I wasn’t a mother. The parishioner who was handing out the flowers explained, “Oh, no, it’s in honor of Mary.” I thought that was so nice! It made me feel included, even though I was one of the few who didn’t have chilfren.

  6. I am the one that stumbled on this looking for help to understand. Thank you for you words. I am passed the age of child bearing and it hurts even more. I was a church when the man started to hand me a rose then said ‘you’re not a Mother and took it back’. I love my mom so much! She is so understanding, but even she can’t understand what I feel. I can’t even understand it. It’s like guilt, sorrow, anger and resentment. I hate the feeling. Your words have helped me to know I am not alone and I do matter. God does have a plan and his plans are perfect. And one day I will understand. Bless you

    1. Oh, Lisa, I am so with you. I don’t have the words but I do understand… and isn’t that just what we need sometimes? Understanding? I so appreciate your heart and for writing. I sincerely hope that you have something wonderful planned for this Sunday. Something all for yourself.
      love, Karlee

    2. OMG, that guy was an ass. I wish churches would acknowledge that all women can be maternal and a positive influence in lives and celebrate all women who show up that day. Seriously, I don’t have the strength to even think about church on a mother’s day weekend.

  7. Hi, Lisa! Thanks so much for this. I will be 50 in November and I’m in the same boat, no husband or kids. Three hundred sixty-four days of the year I’m mostly fine with my life; but Mother’s Day is the hardest. Even when I would go to church and stand up when they included godmothers it still didn’t feel right. I’m just not going this year, like I didn’t go last year. I don’t know when I’m going to be able to go to church on Mother’s day again, but I refuse to beat myself up about it anymore. Thanks a bunch for your post; it really helps.

    1. I’m so glad to hear this. We have to allow ourselves this freedom. I feel the same way. I don’t know if I’ll ever go to church on mothers day, even when I’m older. It’s a good day to reflect and be still. Thanks so much for writing, Rachel. I’m so glad you found some comfort in this post.
      Karlee

  8. Krisita Jackson

    I am a childless 67 year old woman. I have mothered step children and nieces and nephews. I have never felt sad or worthless on Mother’s Day.

    When I reached 39 years old with no children and decided that was the drop dead date: “God, I don’t understand why I have no children – why you have not given me this blessing – perhaps you will explain it to me when I get to the heaven.” That is where my peace was found.

    I never dreamed as a young woman that I would be childless – I always thought I would have at least three children — but was not my lot. I would suggest to younger women that if you truly want to be a Mother there are many options available to you today that were not available 30 years ago. Seize them!! Be happy!! Be a Mother if that is your dream!!

  9. Thank you so much for writing this. I have tears streaming down my face as I write. I dread this day. I knock myself out doing something special for others, but I hide in the house and just want the hours to pass. My baby girl died in my womb. I never had a second chance to get pregnant. Now, I’m long past the mark. I do have an adult stepson, but we are not particularly close. I do love and embrace motherhood. I’m a mentor to young women and a great pet mom. Just wish I could have experienced the joys and pains of being a “real mom.” It’s so hard when strangers say “Happy Mother’s Day.”

    1. Oh man, Jane… What a heavy day for you, in particular. The loss of your baby girl that is so tangible and real. You are SO WORTHY! What a wonderful thing it is to be a woman and be maternal to so many. Thank you so much for writing. I’m so glad this post has become a community for people who feel like they don’t belong. Do me a favor, and knock yourself doing something special for YOURSELF today! please please please… you deserve it.
      Karlee

    2. it is hard… I found myself snapping at people today who wished me a Happy Mother’s Day. “I’m not a Mother!”
      Yes, I know I have “mothered” many being an aunt and teacher and fur baby mom, a
      nd so on. But it isn’t the same.

      1. I feel this so deeply. This day, man. It can bring out some STUFF in us. Thankfully we made it through. And next year, we’ll book a spa 🙂

        1. Hello thank you for this post. This year will mark 6 years I’ve been married and due to a medical condition my husband and I can’t have children. What you described (not being blessed or God doesn’t think Im fit to be a mother) have been on my mind all these years. I usually take long walks and cry it out. It feels good that you hit every feeling I have. Thank you for this post.

  10. Thank you so much for these words. I’ve never heard anyone put to words so well what I feel this time of year- and throughout the year as well. Church is the hardest with the flower handouts. One time the pastor gave me one at the door saying, “You’re not a mother, but you can have one anyway”. Like I needed reminding. Like he was grudgingly giving my something I didn’t deserve. There is a physical ache in denying your body what it was designed for. I don’t think most people can understand that or how much it hurts. It makes me feel better knowing I’m not alone!

    1. This story sounds exactly like mine! But, they gave me a bar of chocolate instead 🙂 Ugh… that day was a really bad day. The pain is real, my friend. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You can do this. You can get through it. WEEE can do this! You are definitely not alone.
      Karlee

  11. 2019 Mother’s day and i’m on pinterest to avoid going on social media for all the reasons you listed. I once read somewhere that a person doesn’t have to be a mother to be maternal, that thought has helped me a lot over the years. I LOVED everything you wrote. Thanks for sharing.

    1. Thank you so much, Christine! I love that thought. It is so true in my life as well. I have so many wonderful “kids” in my life that I get to invest in so deeply. I’m currently off my social media too (which is hard because it’s my job now! LOL) But, in the end, it’s so worth it to not let those little lies slip in. We are not alone!
      Karlee

  12. Thanks for this post. I had my second miscarriage last month and sometimes this day can be so emotional knowing that you don’t have someone to call you mother in your life. It helped me cry and cope.

  13. This is beautiful and so needed. Reading it touched my heart and soul very deeply. As I was reading I felt seen and cared for and tended to and accepted and loved. It occurred to me that it takes someone very special and unique to be the kind of mother you are. I see and acknowledge all the beautiful mothering you do. I see the way you bring love, curiosity, inclusiveness, guidance, witnessing and nurturing to all those who come into contact with you. The world needs mothers of every kind and that includes you. Thank you for showing up for such a difficult role. Your journey has led you to a deep, sacred and secret truth: Just as it isn’t really the crown that makes a queen it isn’t really the child that makes the mother. Mothering, in so many ways, is a choice to inhabit the qualities of motherhood, to embody grace and wisdom, to labor in love and truth and beauty and service toward all that is good and nascent and bursting with potential and longing to grow and thrive in this world. The mothering we do without a child can be very generous and quiet and largely invisible. And I want you to know I see it in you. I admire it deeply and know with great conviction that it holds a vital place in the Pantheon of Motherhood.

    1. This is the absolute SWEETEST, Misty! Thank you so so so much for this. What kind words of affirmation. I’ll be reading this comment for many Mothers Days to come.

  14. Lynn Yarborough

    I am irritated by people wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day. When I was young enough to conceive and have a baby, no one wished me a HMD. (And I had no intention of having a kid; I was busy pursuing my dreams!). Now that I’m over 40 (52 to be exact), I get wished this every year. I can only conclude these ignorant well-wishers ASSUME I’ve got grown kids/and-or am a Gramma because of my age. Dude, I’ve never even been pregnant. Bizarre that anyone would assume this. It’s right up there with asking someone when she’s due, when you don’t know if she’s even pregnant. Bizarre.

    1. Right!? It’s totally bizarre. I don’t think people assume all men are dads, so?? Best to hide and stay indoors on this day! LOL 🙂

  15. I stumbled across this passage and thought this was absolutely beautiful!!! I am not anyone’s biological mother (I’m 43 years old) but I’m coming to terms with being childless. This was so helpful and I wanted to say thank you for reminding us that we’re important too!!! I see women as “Mother’s of the Earth,” all of us are needed.

    1. Thank you, Leslie! I feel the same way absolutely! I so appreciate you reaching out. and girl, yas! that’s the perfect way of looking at it! Happy Mothers of Earth day!!

  16. Jeff Dalrymple

    i came across this article as a preacher looking for a Mother’s day sermon. my wife and i are childless and now past the age of wanting a newborn. I get that mother’s day is so hard for the childless… what can churches do to honor mothers and encourage those who never got the chance?

    1. Thanks for reaching out, Jeff. Man, it’s such a hard thing to navigate. I would just say to not make it a huge deal. But honor both mothers, mothers in waiting and mothers at heart. The story of Hannah is one of my favorites. I really appreciate you asking. It fills my heart!
      Karlee

  17. After realizing I would never be pregnant, I was ready for adoption. Unfortunately my husbands mother, who disliked me, convinced him it was a bad idea. Our marriage has never been the same since.

  18. I am so glad to have found this article. I spent 13 years walking down the road of infertility before coming to terms with the loss of that dream. I’m now 55 and unexpectedly going through a whole new season of grief as I’ve watch each and every one of my girlfriends become grandmothers in the last couple of years and those old feelings are rearing their heads. What I will say is that I have learned to be grateful that I could be someone who helped “fill the gaps” with my nieces & nephews, and that I had some very special kids in my life that I got to be a bonus mom to who have begun to look at me through adult eyes and realize that I played an important role in their lives and can finally express that. There will forever be a corner of my heart that carries this void, but there is also the knowledge that God had a plan for my life and though we don’t always understand it this side of heaven, I can continue to trust in it. Thank you for being out there in cyber space and a soft place to land with a heavy heart on such a hard day of the year.

  19. What is especially hard is when your name is omitted from the list of mothers in the family chat, even though you’re an aunt and a godmother and have welcomed their children into your home for holidays.

  20. Thank you Karlee for your sensitive, thoughtful and understanding article. Aged 68, the pain of never being a mother / grandmother never eases. 19th March is Mothers Day in the UK this year and already the shops are full of related Mothers Day cards, gifts and flowers and restaurants, pubs, cafes are advertising Mothers Day special menus. The thought occurred to me this week “what about non mothers” – don’t they deserve to be celebrated too. Your article has addressed my thinking, provided answers and is greatly appreciated as yet again mothers, grandmothers, great grandmothers seem to of uttermost importance. Equally non mothers should be celebrated as we support, give, care for and love all mothers in our lives whilst we who wanted children grieve for our infertility/barrenness.

  21. Thank you for this post. Although I have two wonderful teenagers who are my greatest treasure, I did spend three years trying to get pregnant and wondering when it would be my turn. One thing I disagree on, however, is not going to church. For some that may be an option, but, for me, church is where I gain strength for any hard time of life I am facing. God can do more for us in one second than anyone else can do for us in a lifetime. I understand what you were getting at, though. No judgment here. Just stating my thoughts.

  22. I’m so glad that I stumbled across this article. The woman who always wanted five children had that all taken from her. I’m expected to show up with a smile on my face while my heart breaks, and then told not to be so dramatic. As I watch my sister celebrated for having a dog and my aunt for being a hid mom with no children (by choice) while an an angel baby and my pain go unnoticed by anyone but me. This morning the most unlikely source was the one to reach out to say they were thinking of me and passed along this article. I’ve read it multiple times. Thank you! I see you and am sending so many hugs your way.

  23. Meenakshi Annamalai

    You said you can’t make it better. But you just did darling. Thank you – your words are like a soothing balm. A big hug to you and all those who have commented too – we’re all in it together. We are here for each other <3

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