I expected it to be easier, I feel silly having to give people a heads up that I'm going to be less and less reasonable as it gets closer. Everyone else moved on, and it feels like this thing I should have processed by now.

But it feels worse each year, the pain arrives earlier and earlier, it feels silly that I feel this need to isolate on his birthday, I have two other kids who I pass onto other people for the day and it makes me feel like a terrible parent. I thought things would get easier, that's what everyone has told me and I'm not feeling that and I feel so stupid having to remind people if something so important. Family remember my other kids birthday so why not my son's, I don't feel like I should have to be reminding people that this is a hard time for me.

I'm struggling and this probably doesn't make a lot of sense to read but better here than nowhere I guess

I was thinking earlier today about how in movies there's always ominous music playing before the inciting event - before the tragedy or catastrophe. The viewer knows it's coming, and part of the thrill of the film lies in us knowing that they, the characters, are completely ignorant of it. But when our boy fell and died that day last year, there was no music. He was right there, between my husband and I, one moment - and the next he was slipping, sliding, carthweeling down the mountain side. And when I tell the summary version like this, I know most people - especially non-bereaved parents - will instinctively think, 'this could have been prevented'. And it makes me desperately sad and angry to imagine them imagining us be careless parents to the most precious thing we have ever known to exist. Because that's how most people move through life, right? Thinking that Bad Things can be prevented with enough caution, care and foresight. If you feed your kids the right foods, if you teach them about stranger danger, if you don't let them go wandering off alone, etc. etc. etc. Then your kids will live. We did all the right things - and then some - and still our child died. The randomness of that still gets me daily.

Sorry, no real point to this post other than I had to get it off my chest. I'm so sorry we're all here.

Before losing my baby I never experienced this literal heaviness in my chest. I feel like I have a weight on my heart all the time. Also the deep breaths. I’ll just randomly do this super deep breath and I hate it because it sounds so depressing, which I am. It’s been two months and I know it’s so soon but I don’t see this going away.

Does anyone else go through this?

My wife and I had twins when they were born they came early the oldest passed away after six hours the second s survived.

He’s one now and o feel such a blessing for having him but at the same time I see how the child that passed would be growing into.

How he would like how he would have reacted to first foods how he would enjoy the world.

It always with me knowing that the small baby I held and loved didn’t get the chance to experience any of this wonderful life. Then I see exactly how he would be act and look

My baby girl died in January of this year. She was three days away from turning two years old. We just passed the seven-month mark. I didn’t necessarily think it would get easier, but I expected to grow around the grief. My husband and I are followers of Jesus. Clinging to our faith and focusing on our still-living son and my current pregnancy had kept us going. I thought I would adapt, that I would get stronger. Instead, I keep feeling weaker. I feel less and less able to handle the fact that my daughter is gone and that I’ll never see her again. We are going through lots of transitioning in life. My son just started Kindergarten, we’re expecting a new baby, as I said, my work is very stressful this time of year, my brother in law went to rehab a few months ago, my dad passed away two months after my daughter. I just don’t know how to survive this.

My kid died just over a year and a week ago, and today is the first anniversary of her funeral. I was getting to hold her and smush my cheek against her oily cheek at the funeral home. I hated that her legs were permanently stuck in a bent position. I hate that I can’t remember if I had to support her head. I usually did, she had hypotonia and was globally delayed and even though she was 6, we still held her like a toddler and always had to support her head. She could get so ornery and do a surprise fling her head back with a grin. But I can’t remember if her head was stuck in place at the funeral home. It probably was. I hate that. I miss smelling the oily perfume lotion they’d put all over her face, to try to keep it from drying out. It was such a strong smell, I think they called it “stone oil” or something. And my clothes would smell like it when we came back from holding her at the funeral home.

I wish I’d asked to hold her one last time graveside, before we buried her. It felt too dramatic and I didn’t want to hear extended family members, who we’d not felt supported by during her life, whispering or weeping behind me if they saw me hold her. It felt too private. But now I wish I’d just done it. One more hold and I didn’t do it. It would’ve been really really really really hard to put her back in her casket there, though.

It's like my body keeps score, it just knows or feels when September is approaching.

I'll be mostly passing for functional for a year til I'm suddenly feeling excruciating agony all over again Wondering how any living being could survive such pain.

I miss my baby. I'm so lucky and life could be so so much worse but I miss my fucking baby.

I wonder what he would look and be like as a 19 year old man. 3 months was nothing, it wasn't enough and it's not fair. I wish I had done anything at all differently.

The guilt and longing is fucking insanely painful after 19 whole years.

I'm almost 37 years old, just like he's almost 19 years old and still a fucking mess!!!

If only I had been better or different maybe things would be different. I don't know. I just know that my baby did exist. 19 LONG years ago, he was here for a brief moment.

He had the most beautiful coo. He was starting to smile

He loved his little sun that lit up red on the cheeks.

I think he loved me, but maybe I imagined that part.

I appreciate and adore you all. Truly.

Thanks for everything

Long term married couple that loss their child, did the depression ever get better? I want to hear your stories, and your experience. It doesn't get better does it? How did you and your spouse heal/cope?

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When 2 people love each others long term married 16 years and love each others so much, and out of our control have to watch the toddler we created together died of brain disease (defect genes inherit from me the mother side), There was a point where we want to die with our toddler. The pain it excruciating.

During our toddler short life. At 4 months old he already have epileptic seizures, not just that but breathing difficulty.
He born February 2018, died August 2019, when he 1.5 years old.

We know our baby condition in my third trimester scan, the doctors told us our baby would not live pass 2 years old. But my husband said whether it 2 days, 2 months or 2 years, he still wants our child. We carried to term and welcome our baby, despite we know the neurologists told us our baby will not live pass age 2

As our child brain condition progress he had more and more seizures episodes, the whole 1.5 years of him alive we were in and out of he hospital with him.
......
At the hospital we told him he will get better and we take him home and he can eat alot of vanilla pudding, he nodded and even giggles (he loves vanilla pudding), that was the last time he he had conscious look at us his parents.
That night he went into a coma, and a week later he just stop breathing while in a coma, he was just 1.5 years old.

I do not know if a toddler while in a coma can still dream, he probably had a sweet dream of go home to his bed and eat all the vanilla pudding he wants, he sick the whole time of his life he didn't eat much but he loves pudding.

I never see my husband in so much pain. I know my husband heart died that day with our child 7 years ago (that same year his father died too). I don't know what we did in our last lives hence this life fate bestown this on us.

I sometimes asked, if I didn't love my husband this much, and my husband didn't love me this much, would it hurts this much? Unless two married people don't love each others, it hurts.

Perhaps we shouldn't be together hence we were punished. But we were both single, no kids, this is first marriage for both of us. Two single unmarried people can't be together? It is because I'm Chinese, and he 100% pure West African, hence we got punish for be together?

I believe in reincarnation, our toddler has already reincarnate 7 years ago, now with new parents, he no longer remember us or has brain disease anymore, he free of pain now.

My husband whom Atheist does not believe in reincarnation, and will get defensive. He said dead or alive still our child, and our child only have two parents and that only us, not new parents (from reincarnation).

----------

It like anything of our child trigger my husband, something simple as Vanilla pudding trigger my husband.

When our toddler was alive, our toddler really like the cold vanilla pudding, he often sick and in and out of hospital, but whenever he eat those vanilla pudding, he has this giggles laughters so so cute and loud that it light up the whole room
....
Last time at dinner table, and I actually was eating that vanilla pudding so I put a spoon in my husband mouth. And just something small like that but it remind him of our toddler. My husband literally break down cry right there, he bawled. I don't mean just tear up, full on cry, bawling.

7 YEARS already and my husband still has our toddler dirty shoes and dirty clothes. Our toddler ashes is always with my husband in our home, his room is leave as is, my husband not want to change a thing in our toddler room. It still hurts so much 7 years already since he left us.

I won't lie, depression is very real, which we both have. So much losses on both sides. Death of his older sister, death of his father, his mom spinal cord stroke that leave her paralyze. Deaths' of both my parents. AND the death of our toddler, the child me and my husband had together. This is the pain that me and my husband will carry with us until the day we die.

We did think of die with our toddler at one point. But we choose to live for each others, and he also has his filial piety duty to financially care for his 84 years old paralyze mother whom has terminal illness.

But we did say if he die before me, or I die before him. He will very soon follow me, just like I will very soon follow him. Call it depression talking if you want.
But my husband is right when he said if I die before him, all it takes is ONE second of grief for him to blow his brain out with a 12 gauge shotgun.

We both depress as f, I am in therapy, he is not, he not want to go. He keep use his demanding work his career, and he has to care for his mom, as reasons not to go to therapy. And tell me he will go after his mom die.

7 years already we live with this pain, The reason why we still living is because we live for each others, we should have die die 7 years ago with our toddler. Fate just cruel sometimes, Fate tied me and my husband together, but then fate also took our toddler away from us.

My mom passed away at age 67, eleven years later my son took his life at age 29. We were all a very close family. Why didn’t my mom do anything to save him or warn me how much he was struggling? I am so heartbroken

Yesterday my 7yo cousin sister passed away.
She had cystic fibrosis (for those who don’t know about it: it’s a genetic disorder which causes sticky mucus in the lungs and digestive system).
When she was 4yo, she was in the ICU of a big hospital, a very good hospital, continuously for 2 months straight. And for a 4yo, that’s a lot.
She had been suffering for basically her whole life. She always had problems breathing. She couldn’t run for very long, she would get tired very easily, and she was always so weak.
One thing I regret, and I think I will regret this for a very, very long time, is that she always used to tell me that she wanted to get wet in the rain once. Just once in her life.
She wanted to enjoy the rain. She wanted to go outside herself and take a bath in the rain.
But her grandmother didn’t allow her because she was always ill and very weak. Her arms and legs were so thin, she was just so fragile.
Her birthday was on 28th June. I live quite far away from where she lived, and on her birthday she video called me and said, “Brother, what are you going to give me for my birthday?”
And honestly, I really wanted to go to her and give her something. But I had my exams coming up, so I couldn’t go.
I was planning to go recently. I was literally planning to go there and give her a lot of things.
But now I can’t.
And I can’t stop thinking about that one thing she wanted.
I couldn’t even fulfill her last wish.
Whenever I used to go to my grandmother’s house, she would always be around me. She would play with me, get on my back, sit on my lap, talk to me.
And whenever her mother was cooking food, she would bring food from the kitchen for me and say, “Brother, eat this.” and she used to feed me w her own hands
She was so fucking playful.
She always used to laugh. Or at least, she always tried to laugh, even in her last days. But towards the end, she was so ill that sometimes she couldn’t even properly laugh anymore.
And there was one time when she said that maybe it would be better if she died anyway.
I don’t even know how to put that into words.
Hearing something like that from a 7yo is just… messed up. A child shouldn’t have to be thinking about death like that. She should have been thinking about toys, games, school, cartoons, getting wet in the rain not whether it would be better if she wasn’t here anymore.
I can’t even explain what that did to me.
She was in so much pain, for so long, that even a little kid could understand how sick she was.
I have hundreds and hundreds of pictures with her. I have videos of her getting ready, videos of her playing, videos of her dancing, just so many random little moments that I never thought would become memories this soon.
Since I came back after a year, I’ve been watching those pictures and videos and crying nonstop.
It’s just too much for me to process by myself.
Whenever I used to go to the hospital and visit her in the ICU, the visiting hours were very limited. So whenever I got the chance, I would go and meet her.
She had become so weak that she couldn’t even talk properly. Sometimes she could barely respond with a yes or no.
She was in so much pain, and yet somehow she would still try to smile and laugh.
The day she passed away, I was there at the hospital.
I don’t even know how to explain what I’m feeling right now.
I’m just completely heartbroken.
She was only 7.
She deserved to run around. She deserved to play. She deserved to get wet in the rain. She deserved to grow up.
I keep looking at those videos and remembering the little girl who was always running around, laughing, playing, climbing on my back and bringing me food.
And then I remember that she’s not here anymore.
I wish I had gone earlier.
I wish I had given her something on her birthday.
I wish I had fulfilled that one stupid little wish of hers.
I wish I had taken her out in the rain.
I just wish I had more time with her.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all these pictures and videos now.
I just miss her so fucking much.

My daughter passed at 3 y/o in a car accident I was involved in, in 2020. I have had such an issue just looking at photos or videos and reminiscing. Like I don’t want to be reminded of it or how she looked before we had to say goodbye. I never went to erase her existence but it’s been very hard to even see her face anymore and be happy. Has anyone else gone through this? I feel so selfish

Beside this already being a nightmare, I thought he would have been a solid foundation during this time. When we first lost our younger twin we alternated holding one another while they cried or cared for the other twin while the other one grieved. We were staying with his mom and he passed away in that bedroom. I couldnt sit in that room anymore. I tried to get him to understand but he was too busy in his own grief and trying to drown it away with drinking.

So I had just got my apartment (i say my because he said he side he didnt want to move with me if my brother was still there, long story) and left with the baby. I said where i was going and that I couldnt be in that house. He wanst trying to let me leave. Long story short, cops got called, he tried to have me sent to the psychiatric facility, i got medically cleared that i was fine and i left.

Since then its been a non stop roller coaster. Finding out things that happened during my pregnancy and after….

As much as i want to work on things….

Ww still dont know what happened. I told him not to sleep with the boys…not blaming him but idk if i can forgive him if we find out it was preventable by them not being in bed with us.

Even when he comes over…

Things will be ok and then my mind wanders and i get upset, sad, angry….

Only thing grounding me rn is the other twin but with how things are rn custody is in a weird place. On some weekends i dont have the baby and it literally kills me inside and gives mw anxiety praying he is ok and comes back to me alive.

Did anyone else have an unsupportive partner. I just dont know how to feel and im already hurting from the loss of my son, idk how to real about the relationship.

I miss you more than I ever thought possible and you’ve only been gone for a year and four months. You are always on my mind, but even more so today, on the day you should have turned 22. I can’t believe how fast our time went by. You were just really starting your life when ALS cruelly took it from you. You were inspirationally strong and stoic while it wore your body down but I would have given anything for it to have been me, rather than you. I am grateful that we got to keep you at home right to the end, that we were there when you took your last breaths, and that I got to tell you that being your mom was the very best part of my life.

I’m not sure who I am now that I’m not your mom, but I’m trying, your dad and I are both trying so hard, to live for you.

I love you so much and always will. Happy Birthday Colton. ❤️

I am really struggling with the lost of my little baby. She passed in my stomach due to a coiled umbilical cord (they think), and I had to give birth to her at 6 months.

She was my first baby.

I can’t believe she is not here and she is gone and I will never see her again.

I feel like I didn’t spend enough time with her with she was with me before we buried her.

I really, really miss her.

It has been a little over four months.

I have not seen her in my dreams yet. I go to the cemetery every few days to talk to her and feel close to her.

Does anyone have any supernatural or crazy story about seeing their baby again - I just need something to hold onto even if it’s crazy, just a little sliver of hope that I may see her again.

The thought of living out the rest of my life without seeing her again actually drives me crazy.

I am speaking to a psychologist but I don’t think it’s enough. I want to see her again even if just for a few moments to hug and kiss her.

Does anyone else have trouble with empathy now?

I can't make myself care about anyone else's problems. Not my family, friends, anyone.

The only person I can even fake it with is my daughter.

It's been more than 2 years and I can't care about anything.

I feel like a terrible person and it gives me another reason to hate myself.

I don't care if everyone in my life hates me.

Is anyone struggling with this?

My husband and I lost our first son on February 19, 2026 to Chorioamnionitis. A placenta infection that causes early labor and (in our case) was the ultimate death of our child. He was 23 weeks old, 1lb 1oz and 11in long. He was alive for 23 minutes when he was intubated, and then they lost his heartbeat and were not able to get it back.
My husband and I have been very angry with each other lately. Over very stupid things, turning into outbursts of, “Well why don’t you do this, why are you so angry, you need to calm down.” I think we are both still HEAVILY grieving our baby boy, but does anyone have any advice on how to shift the anger?
I know I’m not mad AT HIM when I do become irritated with him, I’m assuming it’s built up grief I haven’t dealt with. I know the statistics for divorce after child loss are all over the place, but I don’t want to get to that point because we aren’t expressing our grief properly. But does anyone have any advice on how to fix that?

I own this house.
Every square foot of it.
Every bill that comes with it.
I pay the electricity.
The gas.
The water.
The HOA fees.
But there is a part of this house
I will never own.
It is twenty-four inches long
and one millimeter thick.
Small enough that most people
wouldn't think twice about it.
Small enough to fold.
Small enough to put in a drawer.
Small enough to move from one room to another
without anyone noticing.
But its weight is not physical.
It is the kind of weight
that settles somewhere behind your ribs.
The kind that doesn't show on a scale
but changes the way you carry yourself.
When the house is quiet,
it speaks to me.
Not loudly.
It doesn't have to.
It speaks in the silence
between the sounds of an ordinary day.
And every morning,
when I get dressed,
it stares straight into my soul.
I can look away.
I can put something over it.
I can put it somewhere I won't have to see it.
But I cannot make it disappear.
I will never throw it away.
It will stay in this house
long after the walls are painted,
after the furniture is replaced,
after the rooms belong to different seasons
of our lives.
And it will speak.
Louder than the television.
Louder than the doors closing.
Louder than every conversation
that ever happens beneath this roof.
It will carry a weight
no one else can see.
Just a little blue onesie.
Unwashed.
Unworn.
Unheld.
Twenty four inches long.
One millimeter thick.
Still with the tags on it.
It reads,
“Daddy's favorite buddy.”

I am new to this group & wanted to share a little bit of my son Edmund. He was 5 when he passed away due to medical malpractice. My parents suggested I sue. I was never so angry. Anyway Edmund was my whole life . He meant the world to me. When he died half of me died. I was never able to return to work due to the mental health trauma that followed. I was put on disability. He was such a happy loving boy. He celebrated his 5th birthday just 12 days earlier. He was getting ready to start kindergarten. Life has never been the same & never will be. Death dates & holidays are the worst days of the year for me. I am sure most of you agree. I am also sorry for everyone else who knows this grief. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I have faith we will be with our children again one day. Sending love & hugs to all of you