Nathalie Himmelrich

Inspiring Hope | Finding healthy ways of Grieving | Writer

child loss

Accept The Unique Fingerprint Of Grief And Loss

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Photo by Tuva Mathilde Løland on Unsplash

Grief is unique

Your grief is as unique as your fingerprint.

No two fingerprints are the same.

Yes, they are both from a ‘finger’, made out of the unique pattern of whorls and lines on the fingertips but that’s as far as it goes in regards to similarities.

They are more different than they are same but the eyes are not able to ‘see’ that.

The only reason fingerprints are compared is to identify the individual.

There is no healthy reason to compare your grief and loss with another person’s.

It does not help you heal. Nor does it help the other person heal their grief.

Recently there was an article floating around the Internet with the title ‘Losing a dog is like losing a child’ (before you cringe at the title, go and read – don’t make a judgement before you read the article with 1.4 mio likes! and read until the end of this article). It is just one example of a sentence in which two completely different losses are compared. As much as it seems logical not to compare completely different losses, we fall into the trap of comparing seemingly similar losses. There is just no point, absolutely NO point in comparisons!

Even by saying ‘the loss of a child is the worst loss ever’ we are basically comparing. We are setting the loss of a child above all other losses.

It’s not helpful, in fact it’s detrimental and it segregates people, who are all in grieving pain. It leads to feeling ‘I shouldn’t feel that bad because really, I’ve only lost … and not my child’ or ‘I should feel the worst because I lost my child’.

Those of us who’ve lost a child are left to believe ‘I’ve experienced the worst loss’ and some even get stuck in the mindset of ‘I’ll never get over this’ or ‘I will never ever feel better again’ for the rest of their lives.

Then, there is also comparing yourself to other loss parents… It’s not helpful.

Similarities and differences

Grieving experiencing are unique and can be experienced in all different ways.

The only similarity that connects grieving parents is the fact that we are a parent and we’ve lost a child. That’s the ‘finger’ part.

Your experience however is just that: YOURS. At different times you might or might not relate to someone so don’t let yourself be fooled to believe statements like ‘that’s what grieving parents experience’ or ‘this is what child loss feels’. If you can relate, fine, but if you can’t, it’s fine too – you’re unique and so is your grieving experience. 

You can only know how your loss feels and how you experience your grief. Don’t attempt or pretend you know another person’s experience. Do not even use comparisons to find similarities or differences between a mother’s and a father’s grief of a child – two different people, even while losing the same child, their child, still experience the loss differently.

Comparing is about finding similarities or differences. The similarities might help you understand your situation better. That’s where grieving theories come in helpful in normalising the experience by giving a list of potential similarities. Still, allow your own process to unfold.

BE AND ACCEPT YOUR OWN FINGERPRINT OF GRIEF AND LOSS.

This article was first published December 2, 2015 in Still Standing Magazine.

The Misunderstanding About Grief And Death

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Photo by Vijendra Singh on Unsplash

When I held my daughter in my arms as she drew her last breath I knew it.
When I learned that my mother had just died through suicide I knew it.

I didn’t fully understand grief

I speak boldly when I say that society largely misunderstands grief. Even as a trained psychological therapist specialising in grief and relationship, I misunderstood grief. I thought I understood it, knew about it. I was mistaken. What was interesting to me was that according to my clients I was well equipped to support people through their losses even though I didn’t fully understand grief.

From the perspective of personally LIVED loss experiences, deeply inhaling the grieving process, struggling to keep up the resilience to get up every day, dealing with mundane daily tasks… I really had no idea about grieving prior to my own losses and I believe not many people do – until life shows them death.

Grief myths

There are many unconscious biases and grief myths that are commonly used in our everyday language (see my articles on Downton Abbey Grief Theory Part 1 here and Part 2 here) that it comes as no surprise that society BELIEVES that:

Grief Quote by Nathalie Himmelrich
Handlettered Quote by Nathalie Himmelrich
  • Grief has a set timeline and it will be ‘over’ after that time
  • ‘Keeping it together’ and ‘not losing it’, meaning to not show emotions, are desirable signs of being strong and this is how we should show up
  • Replacing what was lost will resolve the grief (like ‘have another baby’)
  • If you just do something useful (=keep yourself busy) it will be better

And, to a certain degree, we as the bereaved ourselves believe these myths which make us stuff down our emotions, pretend we don’t feel them or numb them out with all kinds of (addictive) behaviour.

EMOTIONS AND FEELINGS

Openly feeling and authentically expressing our emotions is not encouraged in our society. ‘Don’t cry’ is probably the most used sentence responsible for children from a young age learning that emotional expression is not welcome. We often get shamed, judged, critiqued or even laughed at when showing our emotions and the pain of that vulnerability makes us shut down.

MISUNDERSTANDING:

Not feeling or not expressing the feelings makes the pain go away.
Keeping yourself busy will resolve any unpleasant feelings.

GRIEF TRUTH:

When loss has touched our lives and after the shock and numbness wear off, we are often overwhelmed by emotions. We need to speak about it, often much longer than the people surrounding us can bear to listen without being emotionally affected themselves.

TIMELINE

In a recent workshop on bereavement support I heard the presenter mention that the average time of dealing with the bereavement is 2 to 3 years when losing a parent, 5 to 7 years when losing a partner and a lifetime when losing a child. Even though these are (again) suggested timelines, he also said that we all process loss differently and therefore the time span will vary from person to person.

MISUNDERSTANDING:

Grieving is done after a certain time. Bereaved people ‘should get over’ their loss and move on with life. Time heals all wounds.

GRIEF TRUTH:

Everyone’s experience of loss is unique. Everyone’s timeframe on when they are willing and able to integrate their loss and turn their attention back to life is different. And no, the loss will never be put ‘behind’ or ‘over’ – the loss stays a part of the bereaved person’s life.
Time on its own does not simply heal all wounds.

REPLACING THE LOSS

If you lose a child, the next child will not simply fill a space. It’s not possible. The hole in a parent’s heart will not be healed by another child. A new baby does not diminish the wishes, dreams and expectations you had for the one before.

MISUNDERSTANDING:

A rainbow child will heal the loss of a lost child.

GRIEF TRUTH:

The emotions following loss are present in some form or another. It’s natural that the parents will be busy with another child and therefore have less time and space to grieve. This does not, however, mean it’s resolved.

When death visited, I knew. I knew it in my cells. Death was filling me equally with awe as it filled me with devastation. I knew that this was the single biggest emotional experience my life had trusted me with so far.

Looking back I know now that…
My soul was ready for the experience; my humanness however was thrown into the painful path of grief.
My soul knew I was resilient; my humanness struggled for months and years.
My soul knew it’s purpose and my humanness was yet to embark on the journey to find out.

This article was first published July 6, 2016 in Still Standing Magazine.

Thank You, Friend

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Handlettered quote by Nathalie Himmelrich

Thank you, friend, who is still addressing Christmas cards by including A’Mya’s name.
You are one of those who get it. Seeing her name makes my heart sing and my face light up with a smile.

Thank you, friend, who shares Facebook memories with me adding meaningful words. You connect me with the past in a way that is filled with grateful remembrance. It’s through your words that I can hear you remember her with me.

Thank you, friend, who checks in, year after year, on specific dates. Anniversaries don’t just go away because my child is dead. We celebrate her and love her from afar. No presents are given but she is still here with us. In our hearts.

It seems to me that when I write about A’Mya, some people take that as me being sad or depressed. It is not (always) the case. I’m remembering my child. This is honouring her memory because I don’t have the luxury to make memories as we do with the children that are alive.

For many it is inconceivable that there are daily situation that make me remember. Most of those are not even through my own rummaging through photos or memorabilia, which we anyway have very few. They are just daily mundane incidents that are somehow wired in with A’Mya shaped hole in my heart. Many times I can’t even explain why or how – and it is not important. I don’t have to justify my heart’s longing for my child.

She is my child. She is right here with me, even if not visible to the world. This is just the point. Because she is not physically here, some people assume that she does not or no longer exist. We all have thoughts, wishes, dreams and even though they don’t all exist (in reality) they are still here.

Thank you, friend, you who acknowledges A’Mya’s existence, even if you have never physically met her. You validate her importance to my heart. You validate my heart.

Thank you, friend, who understands that triggers are neither rational nor logical. Your acceptance of my vulnerable heart makes me trust your ability to share my tears with, those that will remain invisible to the rest.

THANK YOU, FRIEND.

This article was first published December 7th, 2016 in Still Standing Magazine.

The Sensitivity Of A Grieving Parent

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Photo by BENCE BOROS on Unsplash

The sensitivity of grieving parents is huge. The trauma associated with the loss of a child leaves lifelong wounds. Eventually, they turn into scars, but they can remain utterly sensitive, even while seemingly invisible to the eye.

Hurtful comments

It’s true. Those who haven’t experienced child loss even though they have good intention often try to make helpful suggestions. The effect, however, is pain upon pain. For the grieving heart, it’s unbelievable that others don’t realise. Mostly they don’t. Still, where does that leave the ravaged broken parents’ heart?

Lost friends

Those hurtful comments can also lead to secondary losses of friends. Emotional firefighters or builders are a rare breed and so many friends lack the stamina it takes to truly support parents after a loss. Relationships become strained from the long-lasting effects of the emotional rollercoaster. Those unaffected cannot relate to the grief remaining and find it hard to fully comprehend why parents still talk about their child years after the death.

Unprepared

A society focused on ‘happier, more successful and busy’ doesn’t know how to deal with those frozen in time, shell-shocked by the always untimely death of a child. We were unprepared in our own grief. We all lack education on how to be with someone who has experienced it. Death is removed from old people’s homes and hospitals. We no longer tend to experience death in our family home and remove ourselves from the emotional consequences.

Overwhelmed

This is my personal most used statement. I’ve lost my ability to be productive, to multi-task, to remember names, places etc. If my computer fails to be working without interruption, I walk away. I just can’t deal with it as I did before.

Who am I?

If I am somehow puzzled with who I’ve become, still trying to find archived skills or long-lost memories in my brain, what happens to those who knew the ‘Nathalie-from-before’? I’ve heard some comments, disguised cries for me to ‘come back’ or ‘focus on the living’. Let me tell you, I’ve done nothing else but that: It’s a continuous step-by-step process to ‘come back’ and daily I’m living in the here and now, focusing on finding and creating meaning. But it’s hard work and that’s what makes me tired and sensitive.

Like a burn injury is said to be a lifelong injury, so is the grief after child loss.

Why We Need To Talk About Child Loss

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Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Why do we need to talk about child loss, when it is so hard…

When are we met with silence?
When people just don’t get it, unless they have experienced it themselves?

When all we need is to be understood and taken care of because grieving sucks all our energy?

It seems pointless but it’s not, in fact, it’s so important if we want to create change.

Let me tell you why we need to talk about child loss.

The hard conversation about child loss

Many bereaved parents speak to me about the fact that ‘people just don’t get it’. They find it hard to explain the reality of grief after child loss. Child loss is hard to talk about.

‘My child is dead’ is a conversation stopper. The reality of a child dying before their parents make people feel lost for words. The potential of facing strong emotions is avoided at all cost. Grief is one of those cauldrons of strong emotions that many are afraid of.

Understanding grief

Society largely lacks the proper understanding of grief. They still believe in antiquated beliefs or stories based on the past. Grief IS a normal reaction to a significant loss. In order to achieve a wider understanding of this, we need to open up about it.

Change happens after the realization and acceptance of something being outdated. In order for this to be realized, we need to share our individually experienced reality. This is how we bring awareness to what’s not working and what helps.

Adequate grief support

People avoid mentioning our child because they don’t know whether it is ok for us given the circumstances. They fail to give us adequate support because they don’t have clarity on what this is. They fear to do or say the wrong thing and often end up doing nothing at all. They have no idea what to say but truly intend to make things better for us.  Yet, the only thing that would make it better – to have our child back – isn’t possible.

Grieving is the very action required to digest the loss. It is so subjective that each individual story counts towards this wider understanding and acceptance. Grieving becomes harder when we don’t feel accepted in our way of grieving or that we have the right to (still) grieve.

Let’s make a change

Collectively, we can change that by sharing our stories.
We can change the story about grief and grieving.

Vulnerability Is Bravery

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Vulnerability and bravery. Two words that I wouldn’t easily put into one sentence. Grieving the death of my daughter and the subsequent years of healing have taught me both.

I’m practising being vulnerable and brave by sharing some personal insights from behind the scenes of the latest project I’ve been working on the past year.

Vulnerability and bravery go hand in hand

Vulnerability – posting about the idea of a new project, a resource book for bereaved parents, I had just intuitively conceived.

I had no plans, just an idea. The critics came right away asking questions and making judgments about things that I hadn’t thought through yet. Truthfully, I felt shattered and hurt. It’s not that I’m a bad planner. I just hadn’t done it yet. I jumped in excitedly wondering whether anyone would be interested at all.

Bravery. I continued anyway, despite the naysayers.

Starting without a plan takes courage

Vulnerability. I asked people to contribute to something that I was only just forming a plan for in my mind.

What would a charity project entail? I didn’t have the money to sponsor another book through production, editing, design etc. after having already done that for my previous three books.

Bravery. Some might call this faith, trust or fool-hearted stupidity. I just went along believing it would somehow come together. Now, a year later, the donations (click here if you would like to donate) are trickling in, and we are almost finished with the book. For me, this is bravery.

Finding your resilience and spreading hope

Vulnerability. I challenged the contributors to write about what gave them hope in the first year after the loss.

To go back through the story of loss is just one thing. Carefully searching for what actually helped me through the worst time in my life is a huge challenge.

Vulnerability and bravery were shown by each of the twenty-six contributors who went into their loss story again, into the depth of grief – the absolute opposite of an easy task – in the search for their resilience with the purpose of giving hope to the reader.

I cannot do this on my own

Vulnerability. My physical situation was challenging. My back started to become unbearably painful. I realized that I couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to complete this project on my own. This was my first project with different contributors. I hadn’t fully anticipated the extra work it would take to liaise with each writer through the process of editing.

Sometimes we have got to ask for help. In a BIG moment of a vulnerability, I sent a call out to the community and asked for help. I felt totally weak and unprofessional. The most beautiful and unexpected support came my way. It is now truly is a community project. A book written and produced by the community.

In April I started to go downhill physically and by end of July was walking on crutches and lying in bed 85% of my day. I could hardly sit, let alone work on the computer. I learned to ask and accept help. Again and again. In more ways, I ever thought possible.

Can you help me?

This is what this whole project is about: A hand reaching out to you when you are vulnerable and in need of support.
It takes bravery to realize and accept we need help.
You are brave when you look for help and accept being helped.

We want you to know that you are not alone in your vulnerability.

To know the company of others who’ve experienced what you’ve experienced is what can sustain you in your empty moments. We want to know you and your story. Are you brave enough to share with us your moments of vulnerability?

Can you help us?

Would you like to support this not-for-profit project? Please donate any amount so we are able to give books to parents who have just lost a child.
If you’re interested in the book, you can order it here.

Surviving My First Year of Child Loss – Personal Stories From Grieving Parents

The community of parents from the Grieving Parents Support Network has created a new support resource for bereaved parents.
Contributors to Surviving My First Year of Child Loss were asked to share personal and relational challenges they experienced in the first year of grief. The result is twenty-six heart-wrenchingly honest essays that communicate the individual way each parent coped during their first twelve months of loss.
More than anything else, the Surviving My First Year of Child Loss project invites grieving parents to find support in a community they never intended to join.