Going Back to Work After Infant Loss: Facing the Impossible
When Jillian, age 44 went back to work after her only baby died, everything fell apart.
“No one really knew how to talk to me,” she said. “It was very, very awkward.”
After the astounding loss of losing her only child that she had fought to conceive, the workplace that had once given her purpose now felt alien. “I feel so lost because I not only lost my child and being a mother of a child on Earth, but I lost my job pretty quickly after as well, so I lost my whole identity.”
The death of a baby—whether through miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant death—shatters not only a parent’s heart but also their sense of stability and ground. The routines that once anchored life—work, relationships, daily functioning, have also shifted into something unrecognizable.
“I know that the loss of a child is the worst loss that anyone can go through,” Jillian said. “Every day was horrible. I started drinking very heavily, and that was kind of the only way that I coped.”
Research confirms that Jillian’s experience isn’t unique. A study focusing on perinatal losses found that mothers who had experienced a stillbirth or lost an infant had a significantly higher frequency of heavy drinking than non-bereaved mothers two months after the loss (Vance et al., Journal of Paediatrics and Child Health, 1994).
The pressure to return back to life, to work, quickly can be quite damaging. I spoke with O’Nell Starkey, a postpartum care specialist in Sebastopol, Ca and she names one of the biggest challenges women face after pregnancy and infant loss, saying “Our culture’s bounce-back myth is so toxic. Physically, mentally, spiritually—all of it still needs recovery time and really good care.”
As a psychotherapist I support women traveling this road of utter loss. With miscarriage, stilll birth, infant loss, mothers lose the connection they had in their bodies with this child, the future that was opening up, and often their community, too. People don’t know how to be with them in their grief. Our culture has become illiterate in this important part of life. These parents deserve acceptance, care, and guidance in this deep time of mourning. Without this support, it can feel impossible to walk through.
For Amie Lands, a teacher and author, the decision about when to return to work after the loss of her daughter, Ruthie Lou, was financial. Primarily she fought for and was granted “catastrophic leave.“And you know what? That word made me feel so validated,’ she shared. When the time came to return to work she recalls, “Going back to work was logical… If it had been emotional, I would have and should have taken the year off.” Facing each day with the weight of her grief was extremely difficult. “I felt like I couldn’t get myself out of bed,” she told me.
When she did return to her classroom she discovered that no one had been told her baby had died. “To have to put that on me, to relive every time… that conversation… it was just exposing so much pain. And anxiety, because, like, when am I gonna have to talk about it again?”
Instead of thoughtful communication that guides the community, workplaces sometimes default to silence—a silence that wounds..
Lori Crowley, an LCSW and mom of 4, shared her experience of returning to work after an unimaginable loss. “I couldn’t wait to be a mom,” she told me. Her son was born at 26 weeks gestation, and she and her husband spent six months with him in the NICU, commuting over an hour each way to be with him every day. Just before he was finally ready to come home, he died. Their lives were completely changed, by their love they had for him, and by having to say goodbye.
Lori had worked during his time in the NICU, and when she arrived at work after her son’s death, she learned later that her boss had told her co-workers not to mention the baby. “I remember getting back, and…walking down the hallway, and I'm just like, what is with these people? I mean, how do you walk by somebody and not say anything?”
The intent was to protect her. But the result was isolating erasure.
Returning to work after losing a baby is not simply a logistical transition. There are many layers of realities weaving in with one another that we benefit from acknowledging: trying to function with a foggy, grief-altered brain, healing from pregnancy or birth, facing an empty home or nursery, needing to maintain income and professional identity, navigating others’ discomfort and avoidance.
If you are walking through perinatal loss, here are three anchors to hold onto:
1. Practice saying “no.”
Healing takes longer than anyone expects. You do not need to attend every (or any) gathering, respond to every message, or pretend to be “okay”. Let your expectations for “normal” functioning drop for at least a year, and likely much longer.
2. Create safe spaces in your daily life.
A favorite chair, a specific blanket, an altar with a candle, a ritual that helps you breathe—making small pockets of safety for your heart matters when the world feels overwhelming.
3. Reach out for support.
We aren’t made to survive these losses by ourselves. Therapists trained in trauma and grief, pregnancy loss support groups, either online or in person, loss-informed postpartum care, can help you navigate this sorrow and love, which are wound together.
Jessica Malmberg is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in Santa Rosa, CA, supporting women and families with the traumatic grief of perinatal loss, and pregnancy after loss, during the fertility journey. You can contact her at jessica@jessicamalmberg.com and learn more at jessicamalmberg.com
She also offers community grief retreats for honoring perinatal loss, and offers HR consultation for businesses re-integrating employees after bereavement.
