What No One Understands About Losing a Child

The Biggest Misconceptions About Losing a Child

Losing a child is something no parent should ever have to experience, yet far too many of us do. When my daughter Maddie died by suicide, the world I knew shattered. Nothing prepares you for it—not the grief, the questions, or the well-meaning but sometimes misguided responses from others.

Over time, I’ve noticed that many misconceptions exist around what it’s like to lose a child. These misunderstandings can make an already unbearable reality feel even lonelier. I want to shed some light on what this kind of grief truly feels like, in hopes of helping others navigate their own pain or better support someone who’s grieving.

1. Grief has an Expiration Date.

One of the biggest misconceptions is that grief is something you “get over.” You don’t. Losing a child isn’t a chapter you close; it’s a book you carry with you for the rest of your life. Over time, the sharp edges of the pain might soften, but it never fully leaves. Birthdays, holidays, or even a random Tuesday can knock you flat when you least expect it.

Grief doesn’t follow a timeline. It’s not something you move on from. You move forward, but you move forward with it.

It's watching a TV commercial and crying because Maddie had the same shirt as a little girl, or a song is playing at the mall that you know Maddie loved, making you detour to the washroom. These are the little reminders that grief is your full-time passenger.

2. Talking About your Child Makes the Pain Worse.

Some people think that mentioning Maddie’s name might upset me, as if it’s a reminder of something I’d forgotten. The truth is, I want to hear her name. I want to talk about her. Sharing memories keeps her alive in some way. Silence hurts more, and people feel afraid to acknowledge her because they don’t know what to say.  I've had people say weird stuff to me, because grief makes people act strangely.

If you’re supporting someone who has lost a child, don’t be afraid to bring up their name. Don’t worry about “reminding” them of their grief. Trust me, they haven’t forgotten.

And if you haven't seen my previous post about whether to share a photo of their lost loved one.....without hesitation....do it!

3. Other Children or Future Kids Will Fill the Void.

If you’re a parent, you know that every child is unique. Losing one child doesn’t mean you love your others any less. It also doesn’t mean their absence is easier to bear. Other children can bring joy and purpose, but no one can replace the child who is gone. The hole it leaves in your heart is brutal and unfillable.

It’s possible to hold space for both the living and the lost. It’s not an either-or; it’s both-and.

4. Grieving Parents are Stronger Than They Look.

I’ve had people say things like, “I don’t know how you do it” or “You’re so strong.” I know these words come from a kind place, but the truth is, I don’t always feel strong. Grief has brought me to my knees more times than I can count.

Strength isn’t about holding it all together. Sometimes, it’s about letting yourself fall apart. Crying, being vulnerable, admitting that you’re struggling. That’s strength, too. Strength to carry forward tomorrow while facing the realities of today.

5. Life Stops After Losing a Child.

This one is tricky because it feels true in the early days. The world keeps turning, but yours has stopped. Over time, you learn to keep going, not despite your child, but because of them. For me, Maddie’s loss has shaped the way I live and love. It’s why I advocate for mental health, share her story, and try to make the world just a little kinder.

Losing a child changes you forever, but it doesn’t mean life loses its meaning. It means you live with their memory, carrying them forward in everything you do.

If you’ve lost a child, I see you. If you know someone who has, don’t shy away from their pain. Say their child’s name. Share a memory. Offer your presence, not your solutions. Sometimes, the most straightforward act of kindness is acknowledging the loss and letting them know they’re not alone.

Maddie may not be here physically, but she remains at the heart of everything I do. That’s how I keep moving forward. I do it for her and for the world she left behind.