Child Loss is More Than Losing A Child

Before my son Jacob passed away as a young adult, I rarely heard the term child loss. Of course, I knew such things happened, but I didn’t know anyone who suffered through the experience. Child loss meant losing a child, and that was that. After I lost my own child, I realized that child loss is more than losing a child. It’s also about losing the some of the things I took for granted.

In this post, I discuss thoughts that nagged at me as a newly bereaved parent and how I came to terms with them. If only I had the insight then that I have now.

Other Losses from Child Loss – the Collateral Damage

When Jacob passed away, I found myself agitated and confused about the whole idea of being a bereaved parent. I knew that his loss saddened me. But I didn’t know what it was that kept nagging at me, causing continuous anxiety and confusion. I couldn’t put it into words. But now I can. 

I Lost Part of My Identity

Before my child passed away, I was a mother of three boys. But that changed. I wondered ‘Now, am I a mother of two sons or three? How many children do I really have?’ This loss of identity plagued me continually. I didn’t know who I was.

Fortunately, it didn’t me take long to answer this question. Despite his passing, I know my son lives. He’s just living in the next world. I love Jacob, and he’s still my son. If anyone asks how many children I have, I include Jacob in the count. How could I not? Here’s how I respond to people who ask ‘So, how many children do you have?’ : After Child Loss – Answering a Painful Question

My Perception of Myself Changed

Another kind of identity crisis also hit me. My perception of myself changed. Before, I was a parent. Now, I was a bereaved parent. I felt I had a label on my back saying ‘Hello everyone, I lost a child.’ I felt like an imposter, walking around looking like a regular person, but really I was this emotionally messed up bereaved parent. 

As the old saying goes, misery loves company, so I joined a grief support group. It felt good to talk with other parents who shared similar experiences and feelings. But in day to day life, I still felt out of place . After all, most people don’t participate in grief support groups. Nonetheless, I found the group very helpful and I still attend our monthly meetings.

I discovered that after time passed, most of my casual acquaintances forgot I lost a child. I guess that’s a good thing, because now I could remove my imaginary label and focus on being just me. Yes, I’m still a bereaved parent, but it no longer defines who I am. 

I Lost My Sense of Safety

I don’t feel safe anymore. Jacob was 24 years old when he died. Now I worry. I worry about everything. It reminds me of the teaching in Pirkei Avot, the Ethics of the Fathers:

Rabbi Eliezer taught ‘Repent one day before your death.’ (Avot, chapter 10)

The article Do Teshuva One Day Before Your Death quotes a brief commentary on Rabbi Eliezer’s statement:

‘Since a person does not know when he will die, he should repent today, lest he will die tomorrow.’ 

The fact that a young person can unexpectedly die leaves me with anxiety. How can it be? I heard a story from my father that, in the old country, when someone died suddenly no one knew why. People would just say ‘G-d took him away’.

I haven’t yet figured out how to overcome my feelings of vulnerability and uncertainty. The only comfort I have is, yes, G-d took him away. Everyone has an allotted number of years and days in this world, and Jacob’s time was finished here. Some people need decades to fulfill their G-d given mission in life. My son fulfilled his in only 24 years.

Having a Future and a Positive Outlook on Life

When Jacob passed away, I lost the idea of having any sort of future, much less a positive outlook on life. I never saw myself as being happy again ever.

However, the saying ‘time heals’ is somewhat true. Of course there’s never a complete healing after losing a child, but I’ve found that I’m in a better place now than I was then. The grief support group and personal grief therapy most certainly helped and continues to benefit me. I force myself to get out more and do things I enjoy.

Life will never be the same without my son. Yes, sometimes I still cry. But I pray that sometime soon my tears will be tears of joy when I will see him again, physically strong in a healthy body. May it be soon for every parent who has lost a child.