It has been one year since I said goodbye to my son. It’s been a full year since the most painful day I’ve ever experienced. Nothing in my life could have readied me for that moment or the heartache that came after.October 10, 2021, changed me forever. When Drew passed away, my entire world shifted, and I found myself on a long, difficult path of mourning.
A Pregnancy Full of Challenges
On the day we celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband and I discovered we were going to have our fourth baby. From the very start, the pregnancy was considered high-risk, and I dealt with complications all the way through. Even with good odds, hope was hard to hold onto. Deep down, I knew this wasn’t going to be the perfect story every parent dreams of.
Early one morning, I woke up in labor. It was too soon. Drew wasn’t ready, but my body had other plans. At the hospital, instead of compassion, I was met with impatience and dismissive attitudes. Drew was born at 5:45 a.m. in the triage room without medical staff present. Shortly after, he passed away.
I had to leave the hospital empty-handed, go home, and tell my children they wouldn’t meet their baby brother. I had to tell them he was with Jesus.
Life After Loss
I thought about all the things Drew would never get to do walk, talk, laugh, call me “mommy.” While his life ended, mine had to keep going. I still had three children who needed me.
Even though my heart was shattered, I had to make meals, change diapers, and read bedtime stories. Society tells grieving parents to “stay strong for the kids,” but losing a child breaks even the strongest person.
My kids have been my biggest comfort, even though they shouldn’t have to be. Their hugs reminded me I wasn’t alone. But parents hurt too, and children need to see that grief is natural. I want my kids to grow up knowing it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to miss someone, and it’s okay to talk about it.
The first few months after Drew’s death were a blur. I felt broken and alone. Outside of a few family members, I didn’t have much support. The holidays were especially hard. On Christmas, I finally spoke with my grandma after a long time apart due to her illness and the pandemic. Tears filled our eyes as we embraced, and I poured out how deeply I loved her. A month later, she passed away too. Losing her while I was still grieving Drew felt unbearable.
Finding My Voice
In the spring, I began sharing bits of my grief online. I started a blog and later spoke on an Instagram Live about the day Drew died. It was scary, but also healing. I connected with other grieving parents and found a community that understood.Grief changes you. Some friendships ended, and some strangers became friends. When you lose a child, you cannot be the same person as before. Some people will love you through it, while others drift away.
Leading up to Drew’s first birthday, the anniversary of his death, I felt nervous and overwhelmed. I wanted to honor him. We decided to start a tradition: decorating his grave, eating cupcakes, and wearing blue, a color that reminds me of him.
I asked a few people online to join us in wearing blue. On that day, I woke up to photos from people honoring Drew. It brought me so much comfort, even though most people in my daily life didn’t acknowledge it.
Why Grief Needs to Be Seen
One of the hardest truths I’ve learned is that many people avoid talking about grief. Some think speaking about your loss is seeking attention. It isn’t. We talk about so many difficult topics, why not grief?If you know someone grieving, please check on them. Anniversaries matter. Your support matters.I’ve found my strength in God, my family, and my online community. My grief will never go away, but I am learning to grow around it.
A year later, I still think of Drew and my grandma every day. I believe joy can exist alongside grief. My lost loved ones aren’t truly gone, they’re waiting for me. Until then, I will live for them and carry their memory forward.
