grieving a child

💭 I daydream…

September 15, 2021 By Nathalie Himmelrich 18 Comments

I daydream about … 💫 who they would have become ✨

Last night I went to Ananda Mae’s parents’ evening at the school. Every parent had to introduce their child given it was a new formation of kids.

As I heard the other parents describe their child, mentioning their siblings, I went off daydreaming about AM’s sister, A’Mya.

Who would you have become? What would it be like for the two to go to the same school, or even class? To share friends, experiences, and birthdays?

Just the other day Ananda Mae had asked me to daydream with her about her sister. She asked exactly those questions. “Mum, would A’Mya look just like me?” “I imagine very similar, given you are identical twins,” I replied.

Go ahead, daydream

Daydreaming about a future that cannot be is a way of remembering. Remembering your loved one. Living a relationship, learning to be in a new relationship when the kind of relationship we would have wanted to live is no longer possible.

Whoever came up with the notion ‘not to grow up the child/baby who died’ (I remember it was a therapist 🤦🏽‍♀️ – not me though) was wrong. It is completely normal and natural to do so, at least in my experience and the experience of her surviving twin.

Thank you for being right here and now with me 🕊

The Relationship Between Trauma & Grief

August 24, 2021 By Nathalie Himmelrich 2 Comments

Many of the people I have been working with have shown signs of Trauma & Grief intertwined. So, you might wonder, what is the difference and how do I know whether I or someone else is experience grief, trauma, or both?

Defining experiences

Normal Grief, as defined by MedicineNet, is: The normal process of reacting to a loss. The loss may be physical (such as a death), social (such as divorce), or occupational (such as a job). Segen’s Medical Dictionary says: Grief over the loss of a loved one begins to fade into adequate coping mechanisms within six months. This is obviously a very general definition. It leaves me wondering what they define as adequate coping mechanisms. It also does not incorporate the fact that it is highly dependent on which loved one it is (child, parent, partner, or friend?) or through what circumstances the loss occurred (old age, illness, accident, or, for example, murder?)

There is no such thing as ‘normal’ grief. Grievers know that there is nothing that feels normal in their experience. Grief makes them feel like they are going crazy. Normal Grief is grief that follows expected reactions and responses (check out Chapter 2 – Understanding Grief and the Bereaved in the book Bridging the Grief Gap). From a therapeutic point of view, grief progresses in a normal way when the bereaved gradually moves towards acceptance of the loss, and, as time goes by, they are able to re-enter life and engage in daily activities. It can also be called Uncomplicated Grief.

Traumatic Grief is a normal grief response to a loved one’s death that is perceived to be horrifying, unexpected, violent, or traumatic. This includes accidents, murder, abduction, abuse, or cruelty happening to the loved one. Trauma needs to be treated as well as the grief response. The distress experienced may be severe enough to impair daily functioning.

Trauma isn’t what happens to you
It is what happens inside of you as a result of that.
Gabor Mate

Grief, trauma or both?

If you or someone else is experiencing a loss that is paired with horror, violence, or happened suddenly, out of order, or unexpected there is also trauma involved.

Trauma is stored in the body, in the tissue, in the muscles, bones, ligaments. It leads to people’s responses that can be classified into four categories:

fight
flight
freeze or
submission

Most often we are used to or have heard of the fight or flight reaction to trauma. In the event of traumatic loss, freeze is more often the case. Traumatic loss often leaves people helpless, hopeless, overwhelmed, and in despair.

It is important to be aware of the trauma aspect and have support in treating not just the grief, but also the trauma.

Permanent change

Grief changes people. They see life in a different light and speak a different language. One sentence I hear from grievers over and over: “I will never be the same again.” And even though they can’t know for sure what happens until the end of their life, they express the immensity of the effects of the life-altering experience: a significant loss.

Having studied trauma and the effects on human beings, I’ve come to realise that even though not all losses are experienced as traumatic many grievers grapple with the effects of the trauma related to their loss. The following paragraph is a summary of the effect of trauma in relation to loss, and its neuroscientific effect on the brain.

Following the death of her dad, journalist Amy Paturel wrote a story which appeared in the Discover magazine called The Traumatic Loss of a Loved One Is Like Experiencing a Brain Injury. “According to a 2019 study published in Social Cognitive and Affective Neuroscience, grievers minimize awareness of thoughts related to their loss. The result: heightened anxiety and an inability to think straight” wrote Paturel. Additionally, Paturel shares scientists increasingly view the experience of traumatic loss as a type of brain injury.

Grief affects the brain. The loss of someone meaningful is a stressor that triggers the pituitary gland to release adrenocorticotrohin (ACTH). This sends a signal to the adrenal glands to release cortisone, a stress hormone. Given that the stressor isn’t temporary but intense, the body remains flooded by cortisone. This can cause your immune system to falter which leads to a run-down feeling. A traumatized brain leads to the primitive areas (including the fear centre) being overactive adding to feelings of stress and despair. Higher cortical areas are underactive, for example, the area that regulates emotions.

“The problem isn’t sorrow; it’s a fog of confusion, disorientation, and delusions of magical thinking,” writes Lisa Shulman, a neurologist at the University of Maryland School of Medicine, in a blog post for Johns Hopkins University Press about her book Before and After Loss: A Neurologist’s Perspective on Loss, Grief, and Our Brain. Shulman also explained that the emotional trauma of loss results in serious changes in brain function that endure.

References:

Paturel, Amy (2020). The Traumatic Loss of a Loved One Is Like Experiencing a Brain Injury,

https://www.discovermagazine.com/mind/the-traumatic-loss-of-a-loved-one-is-like-experiencing-a-brain-injury

Shulman, Lisa (2018). Before and After Loss: A Neurologist’s Perspective on Loss, Grief, and Our Brain, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press

Photo by Shifaaz shamoon on Unsplash

How Did You Survive Child Loss?

July 11, 2021 By Nathalie Himmelrich Leave a Comment

This is probably the question that most would want to ask, did they have the nerve to listen to the answer. In fact, some do, because – really, how does one survive the death of one’s own child?

Let me tell you – you will survive this loss.

The perspective of time and the myth of time

Writing this article, I’m now looking back 10 years to the time my daughter A’Mya, the younger of identical twins, died in my arms, just three days old.

But time in itself didn’t do the surviving, the healing.

Grief takes a lot of work. Work dealing with strong emotions, with the bleakness of life without your child, with finding the will to live again, even if it’s hard.

“Time does NOT heal all wounds”, especially not the pain of grief. It does however give perspective because looking back, I can see the gems of wisdom, understanding, and the practice of letting go I have gathered along the way.

The helpful…

So, what specifically does help?

I suggest you try to …

find someone to talk to, preferably someone professionally trained with grief or someone who does understand, because they have been where you are now.
find a community of supportive, understanding companions, such as a peer support group or a grief support group.
find someone specific who you can relate to who is a couple of years ahead of you in terms of their loss and talk to them about what you are experiencing. In the best case, they will normalize what you experience.
find something that you find supports you with strong emotions. This is individually different: for some it is the above mentioned, for others it is reading how others dealt with it, for yet others it is a creative, healing activity or phyisical activity. For me, for example, it was walking in the forest along a stream, which really supported me.
share your story, talk about your child, remember and celebrate them.

And the not-so-helpful…

There are other things that didn’t support me. Some of those, I noticed right away, others only much later. Let’s see if they ring a bell:

people proclaiming grief myths (you can read about some here, here or in the book Bridging the Grief Gap).
people no longer talking to me. I would have wished for them to stick around and say things like: “I don’t know what to say, but I’m here” or “I don’t think I’m a big help… I don’t know what to do” and at least stay in contact with me.
exposing myself to grief triggers early on, in my case identical twins. That really made me angry at the perceived unfairness of life.
people sharing their religious or spiritual beliefs about “there is always a reason for everything” or “God has a plan”. Those sentences really pissed me off!
people implying I should ‘move on’ or be ‘feeling differntly to what I was feeling’.
people giving advice who had no idea of the situation we were in. They were just trying to make themselves feel better.

Do not just survive, thrive

If you’re in your early, raw stage of grief this paragraph might not make sense to you. Believe me, it didn’t enter into the realm of possibilities for me either at that time.

For the first two years, I didn’t even put on any mascara, let alone make-up. I didn’t care. I had a baby to care for and I did my best but I didn’t have the energy for much else. Having said that, we moved from Sydney, Australia to Zurich, Switzerland, 11 months after her loss, so I really don’t remember who on earth I managed that.

I was angry A LOT of the time and remember telling my husband, about 18 months post-loss: “You can leave anytime, I’m stuck with myself.” I was so fed up with the ‘new normal self’ that was supposed to be me. I was angry at my mother, who died of suicide just 4,5 months after my daughter. I wrote a lot, I walked the forest, I growled, I cried and in the second year I was pulled to write the first book, Grieving Parents: Surviving Loss as a Couple.

In writing that book, I interviewed about 20 bereaved parents and support professionals. I got to see ahead in time as some of them were further out from their loss. I understood more and more about my grief, even though I was already a trained counsellor before my loss.

With time, I found that I didn’t want to just survive this. I wanted to thrive. As a friend of mine says: I wanted to gather all the vitamins this life challenging situation had in store for me. Big sigh. It was hard work, but worthwhile nevertheless.

The Misunderstanding About Grief And Death

March 25, 2021 By Nathalie Himmelrich Leave a Comment

cloudy sky — 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 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

March 22, 2021 By Nathalie Himmelrich Leave a Comment

handlettered quote — 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.

Do More Than Survive The First Year After Loss

March 1, 2021 By Nathalie Himmelrich Leave a Comment

writing in a book — Photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash

They did not survive. I did.

Having lost our daughter at 3 days old and then my mother through suicide just four and a half month later I often doubted I would survive this emotional intensity called grief. I was tired of living. I was exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster. Yet suicide was totally out of the question for me as I was acutely aware of the emotional turmoil my mother had left behind in the family surviving her self-chosen death and I was absolutely clear of the important role I played as the mother to my other child.

Did I do more than survive?

How did I survive the first year? I wonder as I’m looking back. Big sigh. Something in me knows but somehow my memory can’t take me there because it’s not necessary to re-live those days? I don’t know. I find it hard to recall the time besides certain moments that have carved their mark on my soul. Luckily I ofter wrote so I can go and read about it. Journal entries, notes to my friends and family, emails, poems and I wrote a blog. All these writings are what lead to friends encouraging me to write a book.

Writing a book wasn’t part of my life’s aspiration. I regularly wrote articles as part of my professional website as a psychotherapist. Even though I had no idea what writing a book would entail, I knew everything could be learned. Fast forward to today I have written and self-published three books and am working on a not-for-profit community project book. The fourth book I’ll be publishing will be an anthology containing the writing of many mothers and fathers like you. They describe the challenges of the first year after the loss, an account of how they managed to survive.

Writing helps

Having just emerged from reading the submissions we’ve received I was taken on a journey back into the experience of the first year. Not just mine but in fact over 50 mothers’ and fathers’ experiences that they candidly shared with me. These essays took my breath away, left me gasping for air and drying my tears. Even though each parent’s experience is unique I could relate, as a mother, as a bereaved mother and as a human being, touched by their loss in the many-faceted challenges it brings.

What I didn’t fully realise when calling for submissions for this new book, was the potential for healing that this project offers. Writing and its healing potential has been researched widely (for example here and here) but reading the essays I noticed so much more. I remember now that I had already noticed this when doing the research and interviews for my first book Grieving Parents: Surviving Loss as a Couple. The intense involvement with my own and other people’s stories, their ways in which they confronted and handled challenges and what happened inside of me in effect to all of this offered a huge shift in my grief towards healing. And it won’t end with me because given the end product is a book many people will receive; it offers this potential to all those who read it.

This post was originally posten on March 1st, 2017.