This post was originally published on Still Standing by
Grieving the loss of a child is a grief that is unique. It is a loss that is still largely considered taboo.
When someone experiences the tragic loss of losing a child, there are very few societal norms that can guide family and friends when their loved one finds themselves in the path of an unfathomable loss.
I lost my daughter a year and a half ago, and I still consider my grief to be very new.
But it surprises me every time I meet up with a friend or see family and their reactions to my pain.
Here, I’ve compiled the six things I wish people understood about grieving the loss of a child:
1: Grief and Love are the same.
Please don’t think that because I am still grieving for my child even after all this time that there is something wrong with me, or that I need to get over it.
I grieve deeply for the loss of my child because I also love her deeply.
Love never dies, therefore neither will grief.
2: I will never get over it.
I may look like I finally got my life back together, I may have even gone on to have more children or embarked on a new career, but my child and the trauma of losing her is always one step behind.
My tears may have dried, and I can probably utter my child’s name without breaking apart –
But please know that I will never, ever get over the fact that she is gone.
Related Post: Why “Get Over It” and “Move On” Don’t Apply to Babyloss
3: Silence is deafening.
I know it must be very difficult and confusing to know what to say to someone who has lost a child.
I know how uncomfortable and unfathomable it must be to you, but please know that wrongly worded sentiments are easier to forgive than your silence.
My world has forever been shattered, a simple “I’m sorry” will do.
4: My child is irreplaceable.
It doesn’t matter when my loss may have occurred, whether it was an early miscarriage, or if I had the chance to spend a few moments with my child before she died.
Babies are not interchangeable and any subsequent child born after is not a replacement.
5: I’ll always live in a parallel universe.
No matter how much time has gone by, when an important holiday or occasion occurs, my mind is going to retreat into another universe where my child would have been present.
I will calculate how old they would be and how they would look.
This whole entire universe is something I hold on my own.
So if you find me retreating inward during a significant day, please know that I am in that place that I share uniquely with my child and my imagination.
It’s just how things are always going to be.
Related Post: A Grief Like No Other
6: I am forever changed.
The day my child died is the same day a big part of me died too. I won’t go back to being my usual innocent and carefree self again.
It will take time for me to find myself, and return back home.
But when I’ve figured out a way to put together all the broken pieces, I won’t look the same.
Please understand that.
If you have experienced the loss of a child or pregnancy, what do you wish other people would understand about it?
17 years down this unbearably tortuous road and it sill doesn’t feel any easier.Occasionally I can mention Henry’s name.Mostly,even the thought of trying to talk about him brings a tidal wave of pain and grief welling up.I know over the years I’ve embarrassed lots of people with my sudden transformation from animated,reasonably articulate woman into a jibbering wreck.For most people,the ones who have never experienced the death of a baby,the thoughts are “well,you did manage to have other children..you should be grateful”.Sometimes not just thoughts but opinions voiced as if the words help.Not just for our darling Henry but for the 8 miscarriages beforehand. Our beautiful daughter,all 6 feet of supreme,16 year old confidence,was pregnancy number 14. Henry died at 3 months old after a mistake by the nursing staff who were preparing him to come home after lengthy and invasive treatment.Our brave little boy endured surgery and endless rounds of injections,investigations and procedures.He fought against colossal odds at times and shone through.He was entrusted to the Ward in order to allow us to get ready for his discharge in the next few days.Instead he suffered a ruptured stomach and died in our arms after his life support had to be turned off.One of the hardest things to live with is trying to envisage what he would look like now.Of our 2 surviving children,one boy one girl,Henry looked much more like Alice.Would he be very tall like his sister? Would he be close to his older brother?As easy going as George?Of one thing I am certain.If Henry had still been with us,life would be very different.I would be a very different woman.And my husband? Hard to tell.Very occasionally over the years his guard has come down and we’ve come together in our own private tragedy. Sadly, all too often I find him looking at me with a complete lack of comprehension.It never goes away.it feels like an exclusive club that only a few belong to.If I could just see him one more time.
yes my son was 14 and has been gone 19 years and i still grieve there are no words for us im sorry for your pain
Our Abi loved every day of her life until her life stopped at just shy of 20 years old. Every single day, I think of her – her laugh, her thought, that forever question of “what if” and “who would she be today”.
As a mother, I miss her but I also grieve the loss her sister endures every day. I HATE what I watch her go thru every day as well. The tears, the guilt, the loss of her best friend, her “what if”.