This past week has been full of tension, stress, and the kind of misunderstandings that—on the surface—seem small, but underneath are woven with grief, fear, and years of emotional scars. And I think it’s time we all admit something:
Losing a child changes how your brain works.
It changes how you process emotions, how you react to stress, how you interpret things that used to be simple.
And sometimes, it changes how you love.
🧠When Trauma Rewrites the Way You Think
It started with what I thought was just “mom mode.”
Our son had fallen asleep waiting to pick up his wife, so I went to get her and asked my husband to check on him.
Normal, right?
Not in a family like ours.
To me, it was just caring.
To my son, it was because we are in fear of relapse.
And suddenly, we were both hurt—and confused.
Did I subconsciously think he had slipped? Did I plant that seed? Or was I just being the mama hen I’ve always been—since childhood?
This is how trauma works. It makes you question your own intentions.
đź’¬ Misunderstandings That Cut Deeper Than They Should
Later in the week, another miscommunication between my husband and I nearly unraveled everything.
Stress was high, words were said, and we both walked away hurt and confused
But when we finally sat down and started to sift through the pain, we found the root.
It wasn’t anger.
It was fear.
Through tears, I heard him say,
“I can’t believe this happened—drugs took my marriage from me.”
And suddenly, I saw him clearly—not just as my husband, but as someone who had been carrying a silent fear for over three years.
The fear that most marriages don’t survive the loss of a child.
That maybe it wasn’t “if,” but when we’d fall apart, too.
đź’” Two People. One Nightmare. Two Perspectives.
We’ve never really talked about what that day was like for each of us. We share a thing or two, but no serious conversations.
I was there. I found Garet.
The sounds, the shock, the terror, the numbness and pain stays at the front of my mind.
My husband was at work when I called him. He was coming home to take our daughter for a doctor appointment anyway, but then….
I’ll never know what it was like for him to hear my voice in that moment. I know what I heard, and it wasn’t “me”.
Just like he’ll never fully grasp what it was like for me to screaming, “Come home…Garet’s gone” with my voice barely working from the horror of it all. My heart beating so hard I was sure he could hear it on the other end of the line.
We lived the same nightmare. But from opposite sides of the glass.
đź’Ť The Rebuilding
Grief doesn’t just crack the foundation—it obliterates it. And somehow, you’re expected to rebuild… while still broken.
We’re still learning. Still untangling what’s trauma and what’s truth.
Still holding onto each other, even when it’s hard.
But the truth is—we’re here.
Still standing.
Still choosing each other.
That alone is something to celebrate.
🌪 What I’ve Learned About Love and Loss
đź’” Losing a child doesn’t just break your heart—it breaks your trust in the world.
đź’” It creates fear where there used to be peace.
💔 It makes you hypervigilant, anxious, and exhausted—mentally, physically, and emotionally.
đź’” It shifts how you parent, how you process, and how you show up in relationships, friendships, life.
But…
đź’ś It can also expose who really has your back.
đź’ś It can deepen your love if you let it.
đź’ś And if you’re willing to be raw, and honest, and rebuild from the brokenness—you can come through stronger. Not perfect. Not pain-free. But together.
✨ Find Your Speck of Sand
In The NeverEnding Story, the world ends in grief and darkness—but it all begins again with a single grain of hope.
So that’s what we’re doing.
One speck at a time.
Rebuilding trust. Relearning love. Recommitting to the people who matter. Rebuilding friendships. Accepting community and support.
đź’¬ Your Turn
Have you experienced how grief changed the way you communicate or love?
Did it shake your marriage? Your friendships? Your sense of self?
You’re not alone. Let’s talk about it in the comments. đź’ś
NOTE: Recent studies have shown that the majority of couples do stay together after the loss of a child. In fact, research from the Compassionate Friends and other grief organizations suggests that as many as 70–80% of bereaved parents remain married. Those who do often report that, while their relationship changes, it can become deeper, more empathetic, and more resilient with time, communication, and support.
It’s not about “getting over” the loss—it’s about learning how to hold each other through it. And couples who face the grief together, talk openly, and give each other grace through the pain can absolutely emerge stronger.
đź’ś Your marriage can survive this.
💜 You can rebuild—together.
đź’ś There is hope. Always.
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