In the early days of grief, it can feel like your entire life revolves around one thing… loss. Every thought, every breath, every heartbeat seems to echo the absence.

When I think back to those first few years after losing my son, grief was the only book on my shelf. It wasn’t just the biggest one. It was the entire shelf. There wasn’t room for much else. It demanded attention, rearranged everything around it, and stood front and center, impossible to ignore.

But grief is a strange companion. Over time, it changes shape, not because the love fades, but because life keeps unfolding.

How Grief Evolves Over Time

If you were to look at my bookshelf today, grief is still there. It’s just not the only thing. The spine is worn, the cover softened from years of holding it close. It no longer takes up the whole shelf, but it still belongs.

There are new books beside it now, stories of parenthood, work I’m proud of, laughter, healing, and growth. There’s a collection of joy I didn’t know I could feel again, resting alongside volumes of exhaustion, resilience, and the ongoing practice of remembering.

That’s what grief looks like after ten years,  not gone, not forgotten, but integrated.

Living Beside Loss: Finding Meaning After a Decade of Grief

These days, I see my son’s footprints every morning…literally. They sit in a frame on top of our dresser, right by where I get dressed every morning.

I walk by them, sometimes glancing, sometimes not. They’re part of the rhythm of my day.

Grief doesn’t demand my attention the way it once did. It sits quietly now, reminding me that love endures even when life moves forward. Some days, the ache returns unexpectedly, a whisper that says, remember. Other days, I smile at a memory, feeling gratitude that he isn’t suffering any pain and will always be part of my story.

Healing After Pregnancy and Infant Loss

If you’re years out from your loss and noticing that your grief looks different, that’s okay. It’s not a sign that you’ve “forgotten” about your loss. It’s a sign that you’ve continued to live.

The bookshelf expands. The story deepens. And grief, once all-consuming, becomes one chapter among many, still precious, still profound, but now surrounded by the fullness of a life that keeps going.

This October, as we honor Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and remember the little lives who forever changed ours, I’m reminded that healing isn’t about letting go. It’s about learning to hold it all.

Maybe that’s what healing really is:
Learning to walk beside the footprints.
To carry love and loss in the same hands.
And to find beauty in the space they share. 🤍

You don’t have to walk through this season alone. Organizations like the RTZ Hope and RESOLVE provide meaningful peer and professional grief support. And if you’re seeking a space for deeper conversation and personalized care, you can learn more about my services or schedule a consultation when the time feels right.