Journey

When your only child has passed away, you are left in a state of limbo. You feel suspended between here and there, lost “in between” parenthood and child-loss. Are you still a parent? Of course! Death cannot change that. But the horrible irony of being a parent without a child is such a difficult path to walk.

There is no map for this difficult journey, that you have been forced to navigate. So you stumble and fall and get back up and continue to take one burdened step at a time. You crawl and grasp at anything you can to keep from falling back into the pit. Having been on this unwanted journey for nearly 2 years, I have learned so much. I have learned that some people will become a lifeline, others will become a stumbling block, and others will simply disappear. There is no rhyme or reason as to who will stay by your side, and there is no guarantee that a lifeline won’t leave at some point. Ultimately, you will have to walk this path alone. Though some may walk beside you, it is an individual expedition.

Below are a few things I have learned along the way.

Your heart has been shattered into a million pieces, and it will take a lifetime to pick them up. During this time, you will find that while nothing can break your heart further, certain things can stomp on the pieces. You will find that many things become triggers. A trigger is anything that exacerbates your grief. It can come from nowhere and can take the form of many things. Some common triggers are, newborns/babies/small children, babies crying, hospitals, cemeteries, the baby section of a store, pregnant women, ultrasound photos, people complaining about children/pregnancy, pregnancy announcements, certain movies/songs, birthdays, holidays, showers, anniversaries,  social media and many many more.   The “why” behind why these are a trigger is irrelevant.  Do whatever you need to do to guard your heart. This may mean unfollowing people on facebook (even family and close friends), avoiding situations that will set you back rather than move you forward, thinking outside of the box in regards to holidays and family gatherings. Just because you’ve always done something one way, does not mean you have to continue doing it the same way, especially after your life has been forever altered.

Allow yourself to grieve

You will quickly learn that there will be many people in your life who will not understand your grief or your new life choices. You may have to defend yourself, your child or your grief. Let me say this, grieving the death of your child is not a choice. It is a pain that demands to be felt, a journey that must be worked through. And grief is completely personal. There is no other person on earth who will feel exactly what you feel as you grieve your child, even those with similar experiences. You aren’t grieving wrong. You will have to discover what helps heal your heart. Be open to the experience as healing may come in forms you don’t expect.

Let go

You quickly learn that you will never be the same, and that is okay. In many ways the “you” that you were before has died with your child. You will need to let go of that person as you embark on a new path of self discovery. You will see the world through new eyes. At a certain point, you must allow yourself to embrace a “new normal”. You would never choose a life without your child, but this is where you are. It will be a daily choice to keep on going. Let go of expectations and obligations. Let go of judgment and guilt. Let go of anyone who is not willing to travel with you as you do your best to move forward.

Forgive

Many people will say hurtful things to you, some intentional but mostly unintentional. In your early grief, you are so impressionable and it can be very difficult to forget hurtful words spoken during that time. As time passes, your skin will thicken, and while the words still hurt, you will learn to protect your heart from further pain. Although you may never forget the hurtful words, at a certain point you may find that you need to forgive the carelessness of others. Forgiveness isn’t about what someone deserves; it is about releasing yourself from that pain.

Allow others to remember with you

One of your greatest fears will be that your child will be forgotten. And certain people will forget, because it is more convenient for them and their life (these are the relationships to let go of). But many people want to remember with you. Create ways where others can celebrate your child and remember their life. You can have a celebration of life gathering, release balloons or lanterns, create a memorial, start an organization, keep a blog of your grieving experience, share pictures, quotes, or anything that reminds you of your child. Do whatever you feel comfortable doing and invite others to participate when you would like. There is no time limit on this. You can do this at anytime and for as many years as you want.

In the end, you will find the new you. Your heart will be shattered, but still beating. You will be weaker and stronger at the same time. You will be scared and you will be brave. You will be alone and surrounded. You will be sad and joyful.  You will be cautious and adventurous. You will be broken but healing. You will have many scars but you will be beautiful. And the people, the ones who really matter, will be there.

Alex Hopper
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Alex Hopper is a freelance writer living in North Carolina. She has been happily married to Trent for 7 years. Their son, Cyrus, was diagnosed with a rare fatal birth defect at their 12 week ultrasound. They chose to fight for his life and to carry him with love for as long as they could. He was born on November 25, 2013 at 33 weeks and lived for a precious 1 hour and 9 minutes. They are heartbroken that he is gone but thankful for his life and know that he will never be forgotten. He is their only child. Now Alex chooses to write openly and honestly about her grieving process and hopes that her words will help others feel less alone. She created and writes at Hope in the Heartache, and is a writer for All That Love Can Do.

5 thoughts on “Journey”

  1. Hi everyone I am so glad that I found this blog. Thanks for sharing your stories. It is heartwarming to know there are other people like you struggling with the loss of a child. I lost my son 39 years old, to cancer last year June 23. All I can say is grief is hard work but we have to do it to become better. Some days I feel it will never get better but I believe it will. Just carry on…one day at a time. All of you are in my thoughts and prayers. I wish you all a happy 2022.

  2. Our only son Abel, passed away at 4 years old this year in April. You said it all. I am not the same person. Every day is a struggle to be alive. Because the pain is so deep and severe. Yet here we are, my amazing husband and myself. I wish more men would speak about their experience. My husband suffers so so much. Thank you for sharing.

  3. My journey is brand new, but I feel like I’ve been on it forever. My daughter was born still last month on July 12th at 25 weeks, 3 days. All of this is so true. People that you thought would be so supportive never acknowledge the loss. But then, some people step up in ways that you never in a million years would have imagined. Some people say the wrong things all the time…your best & closest friends aren’t exempt from this. Mostly you just want people to say her name, remember her with you…but most people just don’t do that. It’s the most isolating experience I’ve ever gone through in my life.

  4. As I read through these stories, I am finding your words giving my thoughts validation. This journey has been a lonely one, but I feel like I stumbled upon this secret society ready to be heard. Finally I can relate! We’ve lost two babies – one at 16 weeks and a second at 24 weeks – both interrupted due to complications/significant defects -both pregnancies a result of IVF “success”. You believe after one heart wrenching loss that you have it out of the way…that the next time you’ll be allowed the joy that pregnancy brings…but it isn’t true. It can, will, and did happen to us again. Now we live without, but we live. We do it because they couldn’t.

    1. Cristina I am so sorry for your losses. This is a journey I wish none of us had to walk. But I am so thankful for this “sisterhood” of kindred broken souls. Thank you for reading <3

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