Life After Loss


One recurring theme that I constantly come back to is time.  There never seems to be enough of it, and that idea has never rang more true than when you’re talking about the loss of a child.  We never know how much sand our hourglass holds until it runs out.  Sometimes, after the hourglass runs out of sand, we can celebrate the time that we had with our loved ones.  There’s no celebrating when a life as short as Brady John’s ends.  We never imagined that Brady’s hourglass would have so little sand in it.

The calendar is my trigger.  Inevitably, I find myself sad and irritable on the 29th of each month, the anniversary of Brady’s death.  I can feel the clouds hanging over the day and sometimes I won’t even know why until I catch a glimpse of my cell phone screen or my calendar at work.  My body knows it’s the 29th before my mind does.

It’s been 8 months, and I just want time to slow down, or speed up, I oscillate between the two.  On one hand, I don’t like that each moment, day, and month that passes pushes me further away from the memories I have with my son.  I don’t like that there’s so much time between us, and I hate that I’ll never be able to be closer to him again.  As each second ticks by, I will never again be as close to Brady as I was the second before.

I had a moment of panic, counting the months that had passed on September 29th.  I thought it had been 9 months, and three-quarters of a year felt far too long.  I recounted and realized it had been 8 months and felt some relief.  This month is the three-quarters year mark though, and soon it’ll be a year.  It’s all happening too fast, and too slow.

That brings me to the other side of things, wanting time to speed up.  I’ve wished I could propel time forward, so we can get to the point where we can try again.  And while we’re on that note, I want to make it clear that trying again does not equate to moving on.  I will never “move on” from losing Brady.  Having another child will never replace the amazing son that we lost.  We will forever be missing Brady, whose hourglass ran out of sand far too soon.



4 thoughts on “Time

  1. Becca and Jeff,,,,,,,,,Brady John will always and forever be a part of our lives…There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t pray for healing for all of us, and my thoughts are always about Brady….I still haven’t forgiven God for me being so sick when Brady was born, so sick I couldn’t go meet him..I look at his pictures everyday, and tears still fall everyday…All three of you are in my thoughts and prayers every single day…. Love forever, Mom

    1. I so wish you would’ve been able to meet Brady. It warms my heart that you’ve done so much to keep his memory alive. I loved seeing his picture out on your table when we came over to your house last – that means a lot 💙

  2. Hello, my mame is Maria and November 27th is the day that my lil Axel Joan was born still at 38w. It’s been a really rocky path, like you say, some days seem long and some too fast. I stumbled upon your page looking for a picture to share on my FB page about Stillbirth and Child Loss Awareness. One of the pictures sent me to where i found your ‘time after loss’ article/post. And about TIME… I feel the same way, sometimes feeling guilty for ‘forgeting’ that he’s in my mind. Some days are so long that i think to myself if i can handle any more of the emptiness in my heart, and some that just go by feeling guilty for feeling ‘normal’.

    1. Thank you for sharing, Maria. I’m so sorry for the loss of your Axel – what an awesome name! I’ve felt so many of the feelings you describe too. Know that you are not alone, even when it is lonely and overwhelming. Sending hugs your way! 💙

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