Sabbath Devotional: Migraines, Grief, Family Separations, Self Care, and Peacemaking
- Emma Addams
- Aug 10
- 5 min read
Updated: Sep 3
(Note: I originally wrote this six years ago and was grateful to my younger self for her words when I found them again recently).
I first started getting regular migraines 19 years ago after my dad died much too young from a rare form of cancer. They were the types of “headaches” that would send me to a dark room where I could do nothing but lie in a state of constant pain and nausea until the medicine kicked in. Or sometimes until I could get to an ER for medicine delivered directly to my veins. For a long time, I assumed the onset of migraines was a hormonal event coinciding with the fact that my 6-month-old son (my 2nd boy) weaned himself the night of the funeral. My milk supply had been steadily declining over those last months as I flew back and forth between New York City and California, often with a newborn and a 2-year-old in tow, trying to get every last possible precious moment with my dear father.
The loss of my father and the end of breast-feeding my son in the same week was a double grief, but I chose not to openly acknowledge either at the time. There were 2 young boys to take care of, after all, including one who was developing in a highly asynchronous way and struggling to cope with the simplest tasks that the other nursery aged children found easy. There was then a move, a new job, emotional support to provide to my grieving family, a demanding church calling, and eventually another hyperemesis pregnancy. That last pregnancy found me in the familiar space lying on the couch, unable to feed myself or take care of family, in a state of debilitating nausea, constantly hungry but struggling to keep anything down.
Amidst all this, I still did not acknowledge my grief. It would emerge in odd spaces and at inopportune moments, but I did not speak of it out loud. Better to pretend it was not there than to feel and address the loss and pain.
Gradually, the grief slipped out until I named and owned that the loss of my father was not a small thing that could be buried with him. I had to allow myself to feel that pain fully in order to heal. I had to acknowledge that it was deprivation of love, a temporary break up of a family and indeed, a very big thing. The migraines began to subside as I grieved, not just for my father but for other parts of my life that were less than ideal, that had turned out much different than I had planned.
Since that time, migraines have become my personal “canary in the coal mine.” There are certainly a number of other little factors that can trigger a migraine, but if I am feeling unacknowledged stress or grief, it will almost always put me over the edge and send me to a dark room in search of relief for a pain that it turns out is not just physical.
About seven years ago, I found myself again with a migraine almost every single week. It was not an extraordinarily stressful time in my personal life, beyond the usual ups and downs of parenting and living. I had dealt openly with the grief and loss that was poured upon me the decade earlier. But, over a decade wiser, I knew to search for the source of acknowledged pain and it was easy to find: the news! News of death, destruction, racism, terror, shootings, etc… I had become so immersed in the plight of strangers that I was internalizing their pain. But in an effort to push forward and do everything I could to help, I did not stop to grieve! And, once again, that unacknowledged grief sneakily wound its way to the surface.
When the news of family separations was ramping in May of 2018 and beyond, it was a perfect recipe for more grief and migraines. And, once again, I threw myself into the work, planning family separation information sessions and assisting with vigils, press releases, and official statements. But something was different this time-I allowed myself to cry, vigorously, and as often as I needed to. I did not mistake those tears for weakness or think that my pauses to release were wasted moments. I knew then that if I allowed myself to grieve openly for babies taken away for their mothers, I would be in a better place to be able to lift my voice and add my strength towards solving the problem.
As I reflected upon these experiences, I began to recognize the role that peacemaking plays in addressing grief and suffering, both personal and more cosmic in nature. Peacemaking is a creative endeavor that dives into dark and difficult spaces, generating goodness in its wake. Ignoring the difficulties of my own life does not make them go away. And turning away from the suffering of others was merely a temporary fix. Recognizing that my own pain had to be brought to the surface, named, and dealt with helps me to be more compassionate and loving as others process theirs.
Specifically, the 4th Principle of Peacemaking* speaks to my innate desire to alleviate human suffering yet gives me concrete actions to take when I “cannot provide relief.” When paired with a study of the 6th Principle,** I feel hope despite my inadequacies and inabilities to alleviate all the suffering I see. For, ultimately, this work is not dependent upon me. I can choose to be a part of it and my Heavenly Father will inspire me to know where my hands can be best put to work, but I do not need to take on the grief and pain of the world--my Savior has already paid the price.
Such knowledge does not make me complacent; rather, it helps me to focus as I seek inspiration. It is my right as a daughter of God to receive such inspiration and to create peace. “...through the things [I] create and by [my] compassionate service, [I am] a great power for good. [I] will make the world a better place.”
If this is my birthright, I know it is yours as well. Take care of yourself, check in with each other, allow yourself to cry and grieve, and know that you have a specific role to play at this time. We need your creativity and goodness.
*4th Principle of Peacemaking
Peacemaking views human suffering as sacred.
Suffering is an inevitable part of mortal existence that can be redemptive when we allow it to draw us closer to God and to each other. Peacemaking requires that we be willing both to suffer voluntarily for just causes and to alleviate the suffering of others wherever possible. In both cases, we emulate the Savior himself. For those to whom we cannot provide relief, we bear witness to their suffering, mourn with them in solidarity, and persistently shine a light on the causes of that suffering.
**6th Principle of Peacemaking
Peacemaking believes that ultimate peace is not only possible, but sure.
We believe that, through Christ who overcame all, we can have the hope of peace in this life, regardless of our circumstances, and the promise of everlasting peace when Christ comes again to reign forever as the Prince of Peace.
Emma Petty Addams is a co-executive director at Mormon Women for Ethical Government.
