What It’s Like to Lose a Child
Quite honestly, it is as horrible as you might imagine - and exponentially worse!
I was a grief counselor before I lost my son. But in all my years working as a therapist (before my son passed), I’d only met one client that lost a child. While I did not consciously avoid parents that had lost children, I certainly did not want that reality sneaking into my conscious awareness. It wasn’t something I wanted to deal with (on any level).
When I remember that one client from many years ago, I’m embarrassed to admit that I saw no connection between the violent loss of her son and her current emotional, physical, cognitive, and behavioral experiences. None at all! No connection! Surely, she was over the loss – it had been two years! Or at least that’s what I’d been taught.
After the loss of my own son, I realized that I didn’t know shit about shit when it came to grief and the loss of a child. All the training! All the books! All the time spent consuming peer-reviewed articles! And yet, on the anniversary of my son’s death, all I wanted was to die. Pissed off and heartbroken that I’d woken up, yet again, to another day without my child.
Somewhere along the way, I turned to the real experts – moms and dads that have lost children. And I met myself in them! Here are some quotes from a few of my favorite books written by parents:
Being Invisible.
“You wonder if people can see the sorrow in your eyes, or the hole in your heart, or the bottomless pit in your stomach, and then you wonder if they can see you at all.” (Carlat, 2024)
“One woman even told me that if she was in my shoes she could not survive. I wanted to say to her that I didn’t choose this and that I didn’t think I would survive it.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“I used to dress somewhat flamboyantly. My hair was frosted. After Howard’s death, I became a gray-haired lady; no use in disguising the outside when I felt such hurt on the inside. I did not want to be noticed. I wanted to fade into the woodwork.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
Withdrawal & Masking
“There were many times when, overwhelmed by pain, I needed to withdraw from others, well-meaning as they were. Alone, it was a relief not to worry about anyone else or their feelings…. My solitude was precious.” (Zenoff, 2017)
“We slip on our mask of normalcy and enter the world of make-believe.” (Carlat, 2024)
Community often comes with an expiration date. As time wears on, the griever (you) is still in severe pain but increasingly reluctant to dump his or her heartache on friends and loved ones. So we tend to shut up or, even worse, pretend we’re getting along just fine. (Carlat, 2024)
Meeting Others Like Us | Joining a Support Group
“The first thing you notice is everyone’s eyes. It’s the same look you see in the mirror every day. It’s the vacant, thousand-yard stare, the look of someone who is not there… Broken hearts, you think, recognize broken hearts. You look around the circle of sadness and see all kinds of people whom you would ordinarily never be friends with in the real world, but, as you now know, you no longer live in the real world. (Carlat, 2024)
“I remember seeing a woman walk a certain sad walk, and I thought to myself, ‘I walk like that.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“Would anyone outside this group want to know what clothing we buried our child in and what type of casket we selected? How could we describe to the uninitiated what it is like to have permanently engraved upon your mind’s eye, as if etched there in acid, that moment when you looked upon your child’s face for the very last time on this earth? (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“At the meetings, our children come first. It’s the only place left where they do. It’s like going to the PTA for our kids.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
Grief is unpredictable.
“Grief hides in the shadows and creeps up on you when you least expect it, and when it does, here’s the trick: don’t fight it.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“After some better days, I find myself circling back to a place of indescribable pain.” (Zenoff, 2017)
“It is painful to see other mothers going shopping with their daughters… doing all the mother-daughter stuff… It hurts. The pain of your child’s death can be reignited by simply by the sight of other children. The parents of these children have what you do not and that hurts.” (Zenoff, 2017)
Living with Loss
“People would say, ‘Have a good day,’ and I wanted to hit them.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“We were studies in contrast in those early months. We were filled with rage and yet we felt hollow. Our eyes brimmed with tears and yet they were empty. We could scream but speech came rarely, if at all. We were in excruciating pain and yet we were numb. Our self-esteem was beaten down and our trust shattered, but there was no one who could console us.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“In the beginning I couldn’t understand how the world was going on without Jess, when I knew for a fact that the world had stopped. I woke up in the morning and saw cars driving and people walking and I just couldn’t believe it. I felt sheer pain as if someone had thrust a sword right through my stomach.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“I go in and out of being numb.” (Roe, 2017)
“When your children are here you tend to take them for granted. When they are gone you think of them twenty-four hours a day.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“Then you take a deep breath and dry your eyes. You didn’t even realize that you were crying again—again—when will you ever stop crying?—and now you’re just sitting in bed and looking at a photo of your daughter or son on the nightstand, the one from a million years ago before you got the phone call that irrevocably changed your life… You say out loud: Why? Why? Why? Why?” (Carlat, 2024)
“I live with a veil of sadness that permeates my very being.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“I had difficulty breathing. I was constantly sighing out loud. There’s no refuge from the pain. You crave peace and there is none. It’s an awful place to be. The pain is unrelenting.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“For the first few months, my husband and I didn’t leave the house. It was difficult to even sit up. We spent our days and nights sleeping on the family room couches. When I returned to work after three months, I didn’t have the energy or concentration to finish the day. At lunchtime, I would race home and collapse on the sofa. After sleeping awhile, I would return to work and count the minutes until I could return to the sofa.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“I’d have panic attacks at the supermarket whenever something triggered a thought of Michael when I wasn’t expecting it. We all thought we were going crazy. We were bombarded with feelings we couldn’t even name. We couldn’t get our right foot in front of our left.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“It was difficult to swallow food and I lost much too much weight. It seemed as though my muscles had collapsed. My acute vision suffered. The shock to the physical body is very real.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“When your child is taken from you, you are no longer ordinary parents. Ordinary parents don’t visit their child in a cemetery. Ordinary parents don’t cry themselves to sleep at night. Ordinary parents don’t wake up each morning knowing they’ll never see their child again.” (Carlat, 2024)
“I’m getting clumsy. I stumble around missing you.” (Roe, 2017)
“In a strange way, we cherish the shadow. It is cast by the death of our child, and it is all we have left of him or her, and so we would not wish it away if we could. It is now part of us, the person we have become in the after. If we are to be mothers of children who died, we will live with the shadow, but we will find ways to walk in it, and eventually be able to see the sun rise and set, to forget ourselves enough to laugh out loud on occasion and to look positively on the new life that has been given us. It will never be the old life, but it will be livable.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“For three years we left the door to Brian’s bedroom shut. It was like a shrine. Then one day a colleague was holding a clothing drive for earthquake victims in South America. I forced myself to clean out most of Brian’s clothes. It was terribly painful, but I was doing it for someone else who was suffering and that made it okay.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
Love
“Love makes the unbearable bearable.” (Zenoff, 2017)
“LOVE. Love for your deceased child, love for your family, love of life. Love seems to be the constant in this grieving and healing process. Love heals our broken hearts, and there are many paths to follow to find love, just as there are many ways to cope with and survive loss…” (Zenoff, 2017)
Work & Grief
“I felt that pressure of having to go back to work and support [my] family when it’s the last thing on earth that I have any interest in doing, you know, trying to get the strength to be able to go and perform.” (Zenoff, 2017)
“It took me five years to even talk to my colleagues at work about it. Five years seemed to be some kind of a milestone for me.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
Will my family survive?
“When a child does, the family changes. (Roe, 2017)
“No. Not the way it was before. You will never again have the family you had before.” (Mitchell, et al, 2009)
“My other kids are grieving too. We will find a way to grieve together.” (Roe, 2017)
“If you take a family structure and you scramble it and a child dies, there is forevermore an empty chair at the table.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“It’s important not to direct your anger at family members, and if you do, apologize. Remind yourself that they are hurting too. This is a time to be generous toward those around your despite your pain.” (Zenoff, 2017)
“Having a sex life with my husband when our daughter after our daughter’s death was virtually impossible. I wanted to hold him and cry with him. He didn’t want that. It took a long time to bring intimacy back into our lives, and it was in small doses.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“Each spouse wants the other to grieve their way. Eventually, that either breaks you up or you learn to accept the differences.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“My children walked on eggshells around me… They still do. I have not had a good fight with my children since Howie died. I often wonder if my kids think I’d fall apart completely if they were to disagree with me.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
Spiritual Connection
“In the beginning, I only wanted to read anything to do with death, afterlife and spirituality.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“It’s very important that I hold on to the belief that energy cannot be destroyed, that it only changes form. I read everything I can about NDE—near-death experiences - looking for clues.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“I went to a psychic three weeks after my son passed. It was very emotional and cathartic. I felt as though I connected and had a conversation with him. I felt he was okay and, most important, that he existed somewhere. As years passed, I began to doubt the ability of the psychics, but I do believe I can communicate with Michael myself.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“I believe there is some spiritual phenomena going on. It’s very warm and comforting, feeling her presence. If it makes me feel good, then it can’t be wrong and it’s got to be right. It’s got to be real.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
My Dearest Son, “I can talk to you, be inspired by you, I can laugh with you, I can walk with you, I can remember you, I can learn from you, I can hear you, I cannot see you, I cannot touch you, I cannot hug you, I cannot kiss you. (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“It doesn’t matter if they can hear you. It doesn’t matter if they respond. What matters is expressing your love for your child. You loved them in life, you love them in death, you love them until the end of time. You need to tell them that. Every day. Tell them, tell them, tell them! They are a part of you and will always be a part of you, and if you’re open to it, you can learn a lot by listening to them. Just because they’re dead doesn’t mean they no longer have important things to tell you. They will help shape you into the different person you’re becoming.” (Carlat, 2024)
“Our dead children have become omnipresent in our lives. They are the one sure thing. Everything else surrounding us can ebb and flow, change and perhaps go, but our dead children are as much a part of us as they were when we carried them through nine months of pregnancy. We cannot, and will not, ever think of them as no longer existing.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“I am no longer a religious person, nor does my religion emphasize an afterlife. However, I always picture our being reunited. Without this one belief, I don’t think I could have continued on after he died.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“I use mind control. I bring myself down to a meditative state and every time I meditate, I meet with Lisa. We hug and take a walk and sit together and that’s it. I can go back there any time I want. (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
You are changed.
“Grief is a highly individual matter: we never know how we’ll experience it until life leaves us no choice.” (Roe, 2017)
“On the day our child died, our former selves died along with them. Even if we have other surviving children, we are changed individuals.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“You look in the mirror; you’re not the same anymore. The air you breath isn’t the same anymore. The way you are isn’t the same anymore.” (Zenoff, 2017)
“I had been a vivacious person. I now describe myself as a flatliner. I no longer experience emotional highs, nor do I want any, and I have certainly had more lows than I ever dreamt possible. I am not the person I once was. How could I be, when I have had an amputation?” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“Wherever I went, I told people about Andrea’s death. It was my badge; it became my identity.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“I honor my child by living the most meaningful life I can. I’ll live with purpose.” (Roe, 2017)
“Losing you is spiritually exhausting. I honor you by taking my heart seriously.” (Roe, 2017)
“And that’s another notable thing about us: we all have different superpowers because each of us experiences our loss in our own particular way. Some of us have an unlimited capacity for compassion and forgiveness. Some of us become impervious to pain. Some of us are masters of disguise. Some of us can turn to stone. Some of us can become invisible. And then there are those of us who can open up and share it with the world.”(Carlat, 2024)
“As bereaved mothers we can no longer believe in natural order. Our comfortable, secure lives, our innocence, all were shattered with the deaths of our children. Now our reality is upside down, inside out and far removed from what we thought it would be.”(Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“You need to listen to your heart. You need to trust it. You need to give it time. You need to let it guide you through the darkness. Wherever it takes you is where you need to go. Your heart knows what it needs to do.” (Carlat, 2024)
“When Bob and I lost Michael, we lost our identity. Our future was shattered. Wherever you go and whatever you do in the civilian world, you are constantly exposed to talk of people’s children and grandchildren. There is no place to run and hide. Your feel like an outcast in the world of parents and children.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
A Different Life
“I am living a second life now. My life as I knew it ended. In order to go on, I would have to create a new life and in many ways a new me. Getting better is not returning to who you once were. You can never return.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“I found just talking to people in the neighborhood or friends who lost a child or a spouse was a help for them and for me.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
“Our life now is centered on the love, understanding and support of our Compassionate Friends. But after five years, we began to socialize with non-bereaved friends as well. Still, we are very selective. We need to be around people who are spiritual and understanding and do not demand anything of us. Life is precarious; those we socialize with must understand that.” (Mitchell, et al., 2009)
Advice to Those Who Want to Help
Do not “keep the silence”, bring our loved one “into the conversation”… “Our child dies a second time when no one speaks their name.” (Zenoff, 2017)
The most loving thing you can do for someone who is grieving is to listen to them. That’s what we need the most, particularly when it’s fresh and impossible to process anything because everything feels so empty and meaningless, especially words. Just listen to us with an open heart and mind. Listen to us with no judgment. Listen to us when we can barely speak. There’s a lot going on in our silence. Just because there are no words doesn’t mean there are no feelings.” (Carlat, 2024)
References
Carlat, L. (2024). A Space in the Heart. Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. *Written by a bereaved father after losing his son to suicide.
Mitchell, E., Barkin, C., Cohen, A., Colletti, L., Eisenberg, B., Goldstein, B., Kasden, M. P., Levine, P., Long, A., & Volpe, R. (2009). Beyond Tears: Living After Losing a Child (Revised edition). St. Martin's Publishing Group. *Written by 9 bereaved mothers.
Roe, G. (2017). Shattered: Surviving the Loss of a Child. Healing Resources Publishing.
Zenoff, N. (2017). The Unspeakable Loss: How do you live after a child dies? Hachette Books, NY. *Written by bereaved mother and therapist
