Grief Tending
Although friends and family may not understand it, the darkness is often the very place we need to be—to fall apart, to feel, to re-member.
People say, “Stay strong.” “Try again.”
But what you really need is for someone to see:
this child, this loss, this moment.
This is the moment for mourning.
I walk with you into this necessary realm—not to pull you out of it, but to help you know it, befriend it, and find the depth and dignity in this sacred work of grieving.
Whether your loss is through miscarriage, stillbirth, infant death—or other heartbreaks like divorce or climate grief—your sorrow matters.
I’ve walked this path with the loss of my own child.
I know the hopelessness, the despair, the raw void of the unknown.
Step by step, we find a way through.
A way to keep your child close, even as you step into a new self, a new life.
When we lose a pregnancy, a child, a loved one, our entire world changes. Nothing feels the same.
This is not easy work, but learning to tend the grief creates an important path in life, and helps us open to the dark beauties, the spacious joys and presence that grieving makes spaces for.
Child Loss
Pregnancy, Infant and Child Loss
Losing a child is a particular loss, one that is deeper than deep. Our children are so close to our bodies, and our love for them is intensely bonded to all of our cells. When a child dies, our bodies and souls go into a deep state of mourning, and it is incredibly hard to keep moving, keep living, to know how to make sense of our lives.
I am honored to help you walk through these dark days, whether it is 5 weeks or 50 years after your loss, as you do the needed work of grieving their bodily absence from this life, and learn to love them in this new relationship. Holding a loving, understanding, non-judgmental presence for you, I help you to grieve and remember, and continue loving.
“To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.”
Wendell Berry
REACHING OUT
Here, you don’t have to be strong.
You don’t have to perform, explain, or fix anything.
This is a space where you can lay it all down—your sorrow, your anger, your exhaustion—and just be.
If you’re ready, I invite you to reach out.
Together, we’ll create space to tend what’s hurting, to honor your loss, and to find a way forward that’s real—not rushed.
