aftermath. 

Following the loss of a child, so many changes take place in us. Even our physical appearance changes. Our skin shows signs of aging. Many people say their hair turned white overnight. Others say they couldn’t see clearly–their eyesight changed. 

Mentally, we live in a fog. We can’t remember where we put things. We often get lost when driving to places such as the supermarket. We get confused. We cannot complete easy tasks. Our minds cannot focus. Physically, we might feel aches and pains we never had before. We might suffer from panic attacks. 

This is only a small peek inside the new life of grief that now belongs to parents of child loss. Losing a child is not a singular loss, but rather a series of losses that continues all of the days of our life. If only others understood the courage it takes for child loss parents to get out of bed and face each new day. 

• Silent Grief—Child Loss Support 

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6 thoughts on “aftermath. 

  1. Soooo true. I remember running out of gas on the highway after Matthew died. I look old as fuck. And I have so many moments when the weight of all I’ve lost and continue to lose takes my breath away.

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    • YES. I remember one time I drove somewhere and literally cannot remember driving there. Like from my house to the place was a blur. It is scary and dangerous honestly. I find that this happens to me a lot still. I agree that Kenley dying aged me SOOOOO bad. I feel like I look 50 instead of almost 32. It’s insane.

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  2. This hit home. In the past 4 weeks, since I pushed my daughter’s lifeless body out of my own, I have chosen her urn, written her obituary, had my purse stolen (I blame the “fog” for my carelessness in leaving it in a car with windows cracked). I noticed just moments ago more white in my hair than I have ever seen and wondered if holding one’s dead baby speeds up the aging process. I am perpetually exhausted. Silent tears can appear without warning. And I wonder how I am ever going to return to my real life when my maternity/bereavement leave ends.

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    • I am so sorry for the loss of your daughter. The early days are so fucking awful. I remember feeling like I wanted to die every day. It changes as time goes on but it’s still there. I hope you are able to allow yourself the space to feel exhausted and sad when you need it. Be kind to yourself. (((Hugs))) momma.

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  3. I found your blog through other’s I follow. First, I am so sorry for the loss of Kenley and a gentle congratulations for Alden. Both girls are beautiful. This post really spoke to me (I found my way over here through some other loss moms I follow). My husband and I are almost 4 months out since our son, Carter, died. I’ve been dealing with a lot of people not understanding that I am not the same person as before. If they only knew how hard it was to just get out of bed… Sending lots of love your way.

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  4. I am so sorry to hear about your son, Carter. It seriously feels impossible and I really don’t even know how I’m still going every day. About 4-6 months out was a bad time for me. I remember the dark feelings creeping in. People only understand the toll it takes on your as a person if they’ve been through it. I honestly believe that people rarely empathize with us because who would ever want to truly imagine losing their unborn child?

    I wish you strength and love as you navigate this fucked up new life. ((Hugs))

    Liked by 1 person

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