What do you do when parenting ends?

When a child dies, parents grieve not only the child, but all the missed milestones, big ones as well as those that seemed so unimportant when the child was alive. We don’t just miss our child, her presence, her hugs and her voice. But we miss the future she will never have and the future we will never share. We miss watching her achieve her dreams, become independent, have a family of her own. All the things that make a parent proud, big and little, we grieve. Ariella wanted to achieve so many things. She had so many friends and ideas and activities. We never got to see her become a Bat Mitzvah, learn to drive, have her first date. All the things we were excited for for her. We have watched her friends do some of these things and have seen younger friends surpass her in age and it shatters me every time that we will never get to witness Ariella’s excitement, independence, and growth as she moves forward through the stages of life.

When your only child dies you grieve all of those not just in the context of your child, but in life in general. Not only will we never get to be the proud parents of Ariella as she becomes a Bat Mitzvah, as she tap dances at a dance competition, or watch her walk across the stage in a cap and gown. Not only will we not have the opportunity to panic while teaching her to drive, bemoan an empty nest as we drop her off at college, cry happy tears as we walk her down the aisle, or experience the joy of being grandparents as we babysit her children. We will not get to have these moments ever, at all. We didn’t just lose our daughter. We lost parenthood.

David and I have been trying in several different ways to become parents again for over two years now, and that journey, trek, road, voyage, roller coaster, whatever you want to call it, has officially come to an end. So that’s it. Our parenting experience is over. After just 11 years. Once a parent you are supposed to always be a parent. Watch your child grow to adulthood, not bury your child. I miss Ariella more than words can possibly explain and I miss being a parent just as much. And they are two very separate things. It’s hard enough being forced to live in a world without my daughter in it, but add to that that I am now an outside observer of a life I want so much to be a part of and it is just brutal. No more proud Mama moments. No more perfect fall family outings. No more silly game nights and no more carry-out and movie nights. And I’ll never get to experience what it’s like when your child is an adult, and can be your friend more than your child. Parenting was my life and I’ve had to accept that that part of my life is over. There is no silver lining that accompanies the death of a child. There is no “at least.” But being able to continue to have the parenting experience would have given my life the meaning it is so sorely missing. And the grieving process has started over again with this path definitively coming to an end. I am sad. And lost. And don’t know where to go from here.