Living with Grief: A Step Toward Showing Up as My Whole Self

I’ve written this post a hundred times. Maybe more. But it never felt like the right time. I kept thinking eventually I’d know what to say and how to say it.

What I’ve come to realize is—there is no “right” time. Because what happened will never feel right. There’s no tidy ending, no moral of the story, just this: sometimes devastating things happen, and they’re impossibly hard.

So here is the truth—I'm grieving.
In the fall of 2023, we lost our son. Late pregnancy loss dropped into my life like a bomb, and nearly 18 months later, I’m still sitting in the wreckage.

I’ve learned that two things can be true: I can love my son with every piece of my heart, be grateful for every moment I had with him—and also feel a deep, aching sorrow and anger that he’s not here.

I wasn’t sure if I needed to share this. I know I don’t owe anyone my story. But as I move through the world as a grieving person living with post-traumatic stress, the cost of pretending, I’m fine, has become too high.

I want to take small steps back into the world—and I want to do that as my full self. That means bringing my grief with me. It means making space to talk about my son, even when it’s hard or makes others uncomfortable.

I also know I’m not the only one. Grief lives all around us, mostly in silence. If you’re grieving too, I see you. And if you want to talk about it, I’m open to that conversation.