morhers day can be unexpectedly raw for people who have experienced pregnancy or baby loss, even when the wider world is marking the occasion with celebration. “You feel like a parent, but the world might not see you as a parent because your child’s not here, ” says Maddie Biggs, whose newborn son died in 2023. Her account — and messages shared by others remembering mothers who have died — reframes what support and language can look like on a day filled with mixed emotions.
Morhers Day: how bereaved parents describe the day
For those directly referenced in these accounts, Morhers Day arrives with a complex mix of identity, memory and public expectation. Maddie Biggs became a mother in 2023 when her son Teddy was born at 29 weeks with a condition called congenital diaphragmatic hernia (CDH); he lived for just under half an hour and had passed away at 28 minutes old. In the immediate aftermath, staff wrapped Teddy and handed him to Maddie, and she writes that she felt like his mother straight away. That sense of parental identity coexists with the perception that the world may not recognize it because the child is not present.
Navigating social attention, posts and private grief
Public-facing communications and social platforms change how lead-ups to Morhers Day feel. Maddie describes posting about Teddy on TikTok and receiving both supportive comments and negative reactions that questioned her decision to share images and videos. She notes a common refrain aimed at her: that grief should be private. She pushes back, saying that people routinely speak about other lost relatives in public and that baby loss has become treated as a taboo by some. These reactions compound the difficulty of seeing holiday-themed adverts, emails and social posts in the days before Morhers Day, which Maddie says often feel worse than the day itself.
Examples of what people are saying — and what they offer
Community messages gathered elsewhere show a range of language that people use to honour mothers and those coping with loss. One contributor wrote, “My beautiful mum who battled breast cancer… We are so proud of you, ” offering gratitude and specific acknowledgement of struggle. Another contributor described a mother who drives two hours every other week to spend time with family, praising “unwavering love and support. ” Others remember those who have died with messages that place them “in our hearts” and note that they remain part of family memory.
These public messages underline two patterns that emerge from the accounts: first, explicit naming and memory — speaking the lost person’s name or role — matters to those grieving; second, concrete specifics about what the person did or endured can validate the complexity of feelings on Morhers Day. For people who have experienced pregnancy or baby loss, hearing a simple acknowledgement of parenthood or a named remembrance can be meaningful.
Practical implications follow. When interacting with someone affected by baby loss or the death of a mother, language that names the person and recognizes the pain — rather than insisting on consolation or private mourning — aligns with the experiences shared here. The examples above show that personal, sincere messages and photos are ways families choose to mark Morhers Day and related milestones.
These accounts are explicit about uncertainty and contradiction: joy for some, grief for others, and a mix for those who both remember and mourn. They do not prescribe a single correct response, but they do suggest that visibility, naming and permission to speak publicly are central themes for those who have lost.
How will communities and individuals reshape what Morhers Day means when memory and absence are as central to the day as celebration?
