The loss of a baby during childbirth is a singular kind of grief—sudden, embodied, and profoundly disorienting. It occurs at the precise moment when life was meant to arrive, when the body, the room, and the future were oriented toward welcome. Instead, parents are met with silence, finality, and a rupture that is both physical and existential. Below is an exploration of that loss—its weight, its emotional terrain, and the mindset it often creates—without trying to tidy it, e

The loss of a parent is not a single event. It is a fracture that travels through time, reshaping memory, identity, and relationships. Whether the death comes slowly or suddenly, by illness or by accident, the death of a parent rearranges the inner world of a child—no matter that child’s age. Slow Death: The Long Goodbye When a parent dies slowly—through illness, degeneration, or prolonged decline—grief begins long before death. This is anticipatory grief. The child grieves i

Trigger warning — this message discusses suicide and its aftermath. If anything I say brings up immediate danger for you or someone else, please call your local emergency number now or a crisis line (in the U.S. or Canada, dial 988). When a loved one completes suicide, grief does not arrive as a single emotion. It arrives as a rupture—an event that fractures time, meaning, memory, and identity for those left behind. This form of grief is often called complicated  or traumatic

The Whole House of Mourning (using the House of Wonder Framework) The six rooms aren’t a sequence. They’re not a maze. They’re a home—one you inhabit for as long as grief insists. The doors don’t lock. The rooms don’t disappear. You move through them in spirals, in loops, in unexpected patterns. Grief is not a journey with a finish line; it is a home you learn to live in. And over time, the house doesn’t get smaller— you grow big enough to live in all its rooms without fear.

An Exploration of the 5 Stages of Death and Dying through the House of Wonder framework Grief is supposed to be a journey, but sometimes it becomes a house—one you never meant to move into. Its five rooms were never meant to be lived in permanently, only walked through. Yet many people find themselves in one corner or another, long after the loss should have softened enough to set them free. The Room of Denial At first glance, it’s peaceful here. Everything looks just as it u