If someone were to ask you, “Who are you?” how would you answer?
You might start by saying you’re a wife or husband. A mom or dad. A sister, brother, daughter, or son. Maybe you’d mention your career, your church, or the things you enjoy doing. Our identity is made up of many different parts of who we are.
Then our child dies.
Suddenly, everything we thought we knew about ourselves seems to shift. We don’t just lose our precious son or daughter. We lose the future we imagined, the role we cherished, and even the person we thought we would always be. Somewhere in the middle of all that pain, many of us begin asking a question that we never expected to ask:
“Who am I now?”
There was a season after Becca died when it felt like her death had become my identity. If I had introduced myself honestly, it would have sounded something like, “Hi, I’m Laura… and my daughter died.”
Of course, I never actually spoke those words out loud. But deep inside, that’s how I saw myself. Ahead of being a wife, the mother of my other children, having an international children’s ministry, being a daughter or a sister, I was a bereaved mom. Everything about the way I viewed myself, and even the way I assumed others viewed me, was filtered through the death of my daughter.
If you’re a pareavor, I’m guessing you’ve wrestled with those same feelings.
Maybe you’ve wondered if you’ll ever recognize yourself again. Maybe you’ve thought: I’ll never get past this. I’ll always be nothing more than a grieving parent.
If that’s where you are, I want you to know you are not alone.
Several years ago, I created a series of workshops called Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing, based on the principles in my book When Tragedy Strikes. One of the lessons is called Sitting on the Porch of Your Identity, because before we can rebuild our lives, we need to understand what has happened to our identity after the death of our child.
I’d like to share some of that lesson with you here. As you read it, don’t worry about trying to fix yourself or figure everything out today. Simply allow yourself to recognize where you are and let God begin speaking truth into the places where grief has shaken your sense of who you are.
Being a parent, especially as a mom, is part of our identity. It’s part of who we are. That’s why the empty nest can be so difficult. We have to figure out what that role looks like when our children are no longer home and under our direct care.
As pareavors, we know we are dealing with so much more than our children simply moving out of the house, knowing they are still just a FaceTime away and we will still be able to spend most holidays with them.
Our identity as a parent hasn’t just shifted to look different; it has been completely taken from us. Those who have lost their only child have an added layer of grief and loss of identity that leaves them totally disoriented in a whole different way.
For those of you who have lost your only child, or all of your children, I am so very sorry. I cannot even begin to imagine what that is like. There is a group called Alive Alone that may be helpful.
Since part of our identity is wrapped up in being a parent to each of our children, it makes total sense that when our child dies, that becomes our identity. “I am the mother of a child who has died.” Like I shared in the book, I wanted people to know that is who I am now.
As we go along on this journey, we must ask ourselves who we want to be: a victim or a victor. Many of you will answer that you don’t have a choice. “I am a victim,” and you are right. But at some point, if we continue to insist on our child’s death being our identity, it becomes self-pity and keeps us spiraling downward into the darkness.
You have to get to the point where you want out more than you want to stay there, no longer wanting the death of your child to be the identity of who you are. You have to want to see the light of hope that you don’t have to stay in this place. The only way out is to change how you see your identity, and no one else can do that for you.
First, you will need to admit that is where you are, and that you are there because you choose to be there. I am not saying you chose to be a parent who lost your child. What I am saying is that if your identity has become the self-pity of being a parent who has lost your child, you are choosing to allow it to continue, even if it is only to yourself.
Then ask yourself: Am I going to choose to get my identity from the circumstance, or am I going to choose to get my identity from the truth of who I am and who I belong to? Your true identity is a child of the Most High God. And that same God made a way for this separation not to be permanent! I want to identify with that! I don’t want my identity to be that my child died, but that my child lives, and I will see her again because of how much my Heavenly Daddy loves me and how much power He has.
The loss of our child shakes us to the very core of our being. The grief is more than intense; a part of us has died with our child. But it is not a place we have to camp out and stay for life. Our grief is an experience we can go through and come out on the other side, releasing ourselves, with God’s help, from allowing it to be our identity.
So how can you tell when you are turning that corner and your identity isn’t wrapped up in the loss of your child? When you can introduce yourself without the urge to add, “…and my daughter died,” after your name.
If this resonated with you, and you found yourself thinking, “This is exactly where I am,” I want you to know you don’t have to figure out the next steps on your own.
A few weeks ago, I shared a podcast episode about rebuilding your life after the death of your child. It received more responses than almost any episode I’ve ever done. What stood out to me wasn’t just how many parents responded, but what they said. Over and over, I heard things like, “Rebuilding my life feels impossible,” or, “I don’t even know how to begin.”
That’s exactly why I created the Rebuilding Your Life with Hope & Healing workshops.
The lesson you just read is only one small portion of Working Through the Darkness, the second workshop in the series. Together, these three workshops gently walk with you through some of the hardest parts of this journey, helping you understand what you’re experiencing while offering practical, biblical guidance for taking those next small steps.
You can purchase each workshop individually, but they were designed to build on one another, so I encourage you to consider the complete bundle. Whether you’re asking, “How do I even begin?” or you’re ready to start looking toward your future with hope, my prayer is that these workshops will remind you that you don’t have to walk this road alone.
As I look back now, I realize that in those early years after Becca died, I couldn’t separate who I was from what had happened to me. It wasn’t because I was weak, and it wasn’t because I wasn’t trusting God enough. It was because grief had shaken me so deeply that everything else seemed to disappear behind one overwhelming reality.
If that’s where you are today, I want to say it again: there is nothing wrong with you. When a child dies, it is only natural to feel like you’ve lost yourself along with them. We don’t just grieve the absence of our child. We grieve the loss of the parent we used to be, the dreams we carried, the future we imagined, and even the person we thought we would become.
But here’s what I’ve discovered over the years. Grief may change us, but it doesn’t get the final word on who we are. The death of your child is part of your story. It is a very real part of your story, and it has shaped you in ways you never wanted and never would have chosen. But it is not all of your story.
You are still the parent of your precious son or daughter. Nothing, not even death, can take that away from you. At the same time, there is still so much about you that God sees and loves. There are still gifts He has placed within you. There are still ways He wants to meet you, strengthen you, and gently lead you forward.
So today, instead of asking yourself, Who am I without my child? maybe ask a slightly different question:
Lord, who do You say I am… right here, today?
You may not know the full answer yet, and that’s okay. Just be willing to ask the question. I have found that when we begin looking to Him for our identity instead of looking only at our loss, He is always faithful to meet us there.
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NOTE: This was partially taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast episode 359. Click here to listen to the full discussion, or look for the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on your favorite listening app.
When you’re ready for the next step, the Rebuilding Your Life After Child Loss Workshops will be here to walk that path with you.
GPS Hope & Healing retreat, October 16-18, in Sarasota, FL
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AWARD WINNING AUTHOR, LAURA DIEHL, has written several impactful books that provide comfort and guidance to those navigating the painful journey of child loss, after the death of her own daughter in 2011. Her most acclaimed work, When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child, has received multiple accolades, including the 2017 Gold Medal Centauri Christian Book Award for Non-Fiction and a Silver Medal in the 2018 Illumination Awards. Several of her other books have won awards as well.
In addition to her writing, Laura is an ordained minister and has an extensive background in international children’s ministry. She is a sought-after speaker and singer at grief conferences and churches, known for her compassionate approach and deep understanding of the grieving process, especially the unique loss of a child. Through her weekly award-winning podcast, her writings, and other resources provided by GPS Hope, Laura and her husband, Dave, continue to provide hope and healing to thousands of parents worldwide, helping them find light in the midst of profound loss and darkness.
For more information about Laura’s award-winning books go to gpshope.org/books.
To find out more about Laura Diehl and the ministry of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope) visit gpshope.org.
The link to Hope for the Future is an affiliate link, allowing part of the purchase price to go to GPS Hope.