Grieving While Baby Grows: The Quiet Heartbreak of Motherhood
When I brought my baby home from the hospital, I didn’t expect to feel grief. Maybe it was naive - I’ve seen grief come up for parents in therapy countless times, but this one really caught be by surprise.
I was holding this tiny, miraculous human I had just brought into the world and yet I was heartbroken that pregnancy was over. I missed the little kicks, the closeness, the sense of being one. Everywhere I looked in my house I saw memories of my pregnancy. That season had ended, and I hadn’t realized how much I would mourn it.
Grief in motherhood doesn’t end there. It returns again and again - not because anything is wrong, but because everything is constantly changing.
You finally find your rhythm with your newborn, and suddenly they’re rolling over.
You figure out naps, and then teething begins.
You blink, and they’re outgrowing the onesies, the pacifiers, the way they used to curl into your chest.
It’s beautiful. And it’s painful at the same time.
The Grief of Time Moving Too Quickly
You’ve probably heard the saying “the days are long but the years are fast” - it’s true! The days might feel so slow sometimes with a baby, especially in the beginning when you are still in that 2 hour cycle all day. But man time flies by sometimes too. No one shares how many times you’ll wish for just one more night with their soft newborn head on your shoulder. How you’ll celebrate their firsts while quietly mourning their lasts.
It’s a strange kind of grief - not loud or dramatic, but tender and quiet. A lump in your throat when you pack away clothes that don’t fit. A wave of emotion as you notice their baby cheeks starting to change. The ache of loving them so much it hurts, while knowing every phase is fleeting.
Even in the most joyful moments, there’s often a hint of loss.
Relief and Grief Can Coexist
What surprised me most is how grief can show up even for the hard stages.
You can breathe a sigh of relief when your baby doesn’t need you to do gymnastics to get them to fall asleep anymore - and still find yourself missing the process months later. You can feel grateful that teething, colic, or separation anxiety is easing - and still ache when you realize that version of your baby is gone.
It doesn’t mean you want to go back, or that you’re forgetting how difficult it was. It just means that, underneath the exhaustion and challenge, there was still beauty worth grieving.
Motherhood is full of these polarizations: joy and sadness, relief and longing, exhaustion and gratitude - all existing together.
Letting the Grief Have Space
It’s easy to brush past these feelings. To tell yourself to just be grateful for what you have now. How many times have you heard someone tell you to “enjoy it while it lasts.” But grief needs space - even this soft, subtle kind.
You can be grateful and grieving.
You can love every stage and long for what’s already passed.
You can be happy a stage is over and still feel sad about letting it go.
Joy and sadness in the same breath.
You’re Not Alone in Grief
If you’re finding yourself in tears while rocking your baby to sleep, or feeling unexpectedly emotional while scrolling through photos from last month - you’re not alone. Talk about it. Cry if you need to. Write it down. Let yourself miss what’s gone, even as you cherish what’s here.
Because when we give grief a place in motherhood, we make more room for compassion, presence, and healing.
If this resonates with you, and you’re navigating the emotional layers of motherhood, I’d be honored to support you.
I work with moms throughout California (virtually and in person in Campbell, CA), helping them hold space for the beauty and the heartbreak of it all.
