The Emotional Journey of Losing a Child: Finding Light in the Darkest Moments

My name is Dr. Chrissy D’Alonzo, and I am both a parent and chiropractor who has faced the unimaginable pain of losing a child. This journey has been one of profound sorrow, but also one of resilience, love, and hope. When I was asked to write this, I immediately had a freak-out session! I have no issues telling my story, but up until this point it has been selective and only in a one-on-one scenario. I have never even put it out on social media. I thought, how am I going to tell the world about this, especially since I am still healing myself? Every feeling of shame, grief, and the insecurity of being vulnerable hit me right in the face! I did some breathing exercises and thought long and hard about this. I realized that over the years, I have learned a lot about myself, and I have helped a lot of people get through some tough times in their life. It is time to share my story on a bigger stage in the hope that my personal story of grief and healing provides comfort and understanding to others who may be facing similar challenges. I recognize that this is also the next stage in healing for myself. I hope to offer insights from both a parental and professional perspective. This journey has taught me the depths of sorrow, but also the incredible strength and love that can emerge from such a devastating experience.

This journey has taught me the depths of sorrow, but also the incredible strength and love that can emerge from such a devastating experience.

When I discovered that I was pregnant, I felt a surge of excitement! At 39 years old, I had always dreamed of becoming a mother and starting a family, and I was ready to embrace this new chapter in my life. My initial plan was to have a home birth. However, I soon realized that the county in South Carolina where I lived had a hospital system that was not supportive of home births, and I struggled to find a midwife willing to come to my home. Fortunately, there was a birth center about an hour away, so when my vision of a home birth began to fade, I promptly called and scheduled an appointment.

Just a few days before my visit, I received a phone call from the birth center informing me that they could not accept me as a client. They explained that as a first-time mother of advanced maternal age (geez I’m only 39) my body mass index needed to be significantly lower than it was. I was devastated by this news. However, being an A-type personality, I resolved to pick myself up and explore other options, even though I would later learn that this approach isn’t always the best.

You might wonder why I didn’t choose to have an unassisted birth at home. The truth is, I lacked the necessary support at home for such a decision, and the stress that would accompany it was something I wasn’t willing to take on. At this point, my only remaining option was to have a hospital birth, and I was determined to make the best of it!

Like many first-time moms, I was unsure of what to expect during my pregnancy. I was juggling the demands of building my business while also helping to raise my two stepchildren, which left me feeling quite overwhelmed. To help me navigate this challenging time, I decided to hire a doula. She coached me in hypnobirthing, as my goal was to experience an unmedicated birth that felt as natural and free as possible. Surprisingly, I often felt so relaxed during these sessions that I would fall asleep. Looking back, I believe my doula sensed that I needed that rest.

My only remaining option was to have a hospital birth, and I was determined to make the best of it!

We developed a plan that, with the doctor’s approval, I would labor at home for as long as possible. This approach aimed to reduce the amount of time I would spend in the hospital, allowing me to feel more comfortable and in control during the early stages of labor.

The county I lived in was not particularly friendly to home births, though it had been in the past. Fortunately, the OB/GYN who worked with the midwives was still practicing and happened to work at the hospital where I planned to deliver. He took a hands-off approach, often lightening the mood with jokes, and he even allowed me to opt for an alternative to the traditional glucose drink used for testing. I focused on maintaining a healthy diet, and on June 27, 2016, I attended my routine 36-week appointment.

During this visit, the doctor confirmed that everything was progressing well and reassured me that I could stay home as long as I needed once labor began.

Later that day, while I was driving back from Charleston, SC, I suddenly felt that my seat was wet. At 36 weeks pregnant, I was uncertain whether my water had broken or if I had simply experienced a little leakage. If you’ve been pregnant or know someone who has, you’re probably aware that accidental leakage can happen at the most inconvenient times. It’s one of the less glamorous aspects of pregnancy!

I was about an hour away from home and not experiencing any contractions, which left me uncertain about what was happening. Concern began to creep in, as I felt it was too early to deliver my baby if my water had indeed broken. I reached out to both my doula and my doctor’s office for guidance. Unfortunately, the office was closed, and the answering service wasn’t particularly helpful. They suggested that if I believed it was an emergency, I should head to the hospital. I couldn’t help but think that if I truly believed it was an emergency, I wouldn’t have called them in the first place! After my doula helped calm my nerves, we decided it was best to go to the hospital since I was still experiencing the leakage.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I was admitted to triage and taken to the Labor and Delivery floor. There, I was connected to a monitor to check the baby’s heart rate, and a nitrazine test was performed on my wet pants. The test turned purple, suggesting the presence of amniotic fluid, but an internal examination was necessary for confirmation. After about two hours in the hospital, I was discharged with the news that it was not, in fact, my water breaking. They had detected white blood cells in my urine, which they had said was indicating a potential infection. I was sent home with instructions to elevate my feet, stay well hydrated, and to call my OB/GYN the following morning for further guidance.

The following morning, June 28, 2016, I called the doctor’s office, and they were able to fit me in for an appointment. I had been “leaking” throughout the night but had adhered to all the recommended guidelines. During the examination, the doctor confirmed that my water had indeed broken the day before, and he wanted to perform an ultrasound to check the fluid levels in the sac. He noted that I should have been admitted the previous night.

Looking back, I realize that I accepted his explanation without further inquiry because I trusted his expertise. Since then, I’ve learned the importance of asking questions and continuing to seek clarity until I fully understand.

We expressed our concern that we had asked the nurse to contact him, but no action had been taken. He pointed out that the nurse had failed to use a speculum during the examination, which resulted in the inaccurate findings from the second test. He then instructed me to go home, gather my belongings, and head to the hospital for admission.

At 1:30 p.m., I was connected to a Pitocin drip and given antibiotics, as it was still unclear whether I was Group Strep B positive (a requirement in a hospital setting). As the afternoon transitioned into evening, my contractions intensified, coming every two minutes. In my birth plan, I had expressed a desire for an unmedicated experience, and I was grateful for the birthing and hypnobirthing classes I had taken. For most of the day, I was able to move around and find comfort in different positions. However, when the staff changed shifts, they informed me that I needed to stay in bed for better monitoring of the baby. Despite the discomfort from the contractions, I managed to fall asleep for about an hour, thanks to the relaxation techniques I had learned in my hypnobirthing classes.

At 11:00 p.m., I underwent a cervical check and learned that I had only dilated to 1 cm after 9.5 hours, with my water having been broken for 31 hours. It was determined that a cesarean section was necessary. I felt an overwhelming sense of defeat, tears welling in my eyes, as I grappled with the feeling of failure. My doula was there to comfort me, reminding me of the strength I had shown throughout the process and reassuring me that it was time to meet my son!

I was taken for surgery around 11:30 p.m.. Since I hadn’t received an epidural, a spinal tap was necessary for anesthesia, which unfortunately caused significant nausea right away, requiring me to be given anti-nausea medication. Throughout the entire procedure, I felt unwell. Finally, at 12:08 a.m. on June 29, Brayden Ivey Graham was born, weighing 4 pounds and 13 ounces. I knew he was small and expressed my concern, but I was reassured that he was fine, as his APGAR scores (a quick assessment to evaluate newborns immediately after birth) were 8/10 and 9/10.

I only held him briefly because I started becoming more nauseous and began to dry heave. In my haze, I heard the doctor say, “For the love of God, help me,” and the next thing I remember is waking up in the recovery area. It wasn’t until later that Thursday afternoon that I asked my doctor about what I had heard him say. He explained that I had gone “all walking dead on him,” meaning that when I started to dry heave, the stitches in my abdomen began to come undone, resulting in significant bleeding. He had to sedate me to stop the dry heaving and reassured me that everything was fine, so I didn’t need to worry.

I was in shock at the time and didn’t ask more questions. Looking back, I realize that I accepted his explanation without further inquiry because I trusted his expertise. Since then, I’ve learned the importance of asking questions and continuing to seek clarity until I fully understand. This approach helps build trust with your healthcare provider and allows you to make informed decisions, rather than ones driven by fear. If your provider isn’t willing to take the time to answer your questions, it may be time to seek someone who will.

I’m not sure how long it was after Brayden’s birth before I finally got to see him, as I had been sedated and was unconscious. Early on, I noticed that Brayden was fussy and seemed uncomfortable. He struggled to latch, and breastfeeding was turning out to be quite challenging. The nurses frequently checked on us, but none helped with feeding or indicated that anything might be wrong. I felt stressed, anxious, and overwhelmed—grappling with a sense of defeat—this was not how I had envisioned the experience.

Unfortunately, my doula had sustained an injury during my birth and was unable to be there for support. Additionally, the pediatrician caring for Brayden in the hospital didn’t ask about our feeding progress, although she expressed concern about Brayden being borderline jaundiced. As a result, it was recommended that he undergo light therapy before we could be discharged the following day, which we completed, and around 6:00 p.m. on July 1, 2016, we were finally discharged from the hospital. I was instructed to return the next morning for more blood work and to see the pediatrician in her office on Sunday.

My struggles with feeding continued once we got home, and Brayden seemed increasingly uncomfortable. He was hungry, but my milk hadn’t come in yet, so I decided to supplement with formula. At that point, I hadn’t done any research on formula, as it wasn’t part of my original plan. It never occurred to me to prepare for potential “what if” scenarios. I ended up using whatever was available at the grocery store.

In hindsight, we often reflect on past situations and think, “I wish I had known then what I know now,” and I’m no exception. Even now, I still find myself thinking this way. I understand that the birth experience and everything surrounding it can be completely unpredictable, but having a plan for what type of formula to use, if necessary, could have helped ease my anxiety. Sadly, switching to formula did not alleviate our feeding challenges, and Brayden remained inconsolable.

On Sunday, July 3, 2016, I took Brayden to the pediatrician as recommended. During the appointment, he was quite fussy, and I expressed all my concerns to the staff. They provided me with formula samples and sent us home. Later that afternoon, around 2:00 p.m., I received a call from the pediatrician’s office informing me that they wanted to send a nurse to our home to check Brayden’s vital signs. At the time, I felt we were receiving special attention because they recognized my struggles. However, I later realized that they hadn’t taken his vitals during our visit. Throughout the day, Brayden continued to seem uncomfortable and began making grunting noises, which added to my worries.

Around 7:00 p.m. that night, Brayden and I laid down in hopes that he would fall asleep on me. Suddenly, he let out a loud grunt, went limp, and stopped breathing; I couldn’t detect a pulse. In a state of panic, we rushed him to the hospital doing chest compressions and rescue breathing, desperately trying to revive him.

When we arrived at the hospital, the nurses took us straight back. I stood to the side, watching as they performed CPR on Brayden. His blood sugar had dropped to a critical level of 21, and they struggled to establish an IV. I watched them drill into his tiny leg to administer the fluids he desperately needed. Once they stabilized him, I was allowed to hold his hand and looked into his dark eyes.

Around midnight, it was determined that Brayden needed to be transferred to a Children’s Hospital located 45 minutes away. Unfortunately, due to poor weather conditions, air transport was not an option. The pediatric ambulance from the Children’s Hospital was already dispatched to another call, and our county did not have a pediatric ambulance. As a result, we had to call a private ambulance service, which turned out to be ill-equipped for a pediatric patient. A pediatrician and a nurse from the hospital nursery accompanied Brayden in the ambulance. Tragically, that was the last time I saw him alive. He passed away on July 4, 2016, at 6:00 a.m., and my life changed forever.

Grief is a complex and intensely personal journey that varies greatly from one individual to another. However, in that journey, there are five stages that everyone eventually will go through: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. These stages do not follow a linear path but rather ebb and flow in varying sequences for each individual. As time goes on, the perception of the grief changes for the person. They eventually learn how to live with grief but still experience joy. The timeline, however, can vary for each individual, and there is no race! When Brayden first died, I focused my energy on collecting records and seeking legal representation. All I knew was someone or something was at fault. It was the only way it made sense at the time. It was a protective mechanism cushioning my mind from the full impact of my reality, AKA denial. I also got angry, and I will admit there were many times that I wanted to punch someone for saying something like “Things happen for a reason” or “He is in a better place.” I know that their heart was in the right place, but my heart was hurting and that was not what I wanted to hear. I wanted my son.

Fortunately, after 8.5 years, I find that my grief no longer holds the same power over me as it once did. I have reached a stage of acceptance, though I want to emphasize that this does not mean I am free from sadness or anger related to my loss.

As I navigated through the waves of grief, I found myself caught in a cycle of self-blame and distraction. My responsibilities loomed large, pushing me to focus on everything and everyone around me while suppressing my own emotions. This avoidance, I later realized, was a coping mechanism—an attempt to shield myself from the painful truth of my loss. I was stuck in a limbo, oscillating between denial and anger, unaware that I was gradually slipping into a depression. Yet, with time and reflection, I began to emerge from this fog.

Fortunately, after 8.5 years, I find that my grief no longer holds the same power over me as it once did. I have reached a stage of acceptance, though I want to emphasize that this does not mean I am free from sadness or anger related to my loss. Those feelings still arise at times, and I acknowledge them as part of my journey. I have come to understand that acceptance is not about forgetting or moving on; rather, it is about learning to coexist with the loss. This process has been gradual, as I integrate the memory of my child into my daily life and carve out a new normal for myself. With acceptance has come a sense of peace and a renewed capacity for joy. Each day, I actively work on healing from my past, recognizing that while the feelings of grief may resurface, what has changed is how my mind and body respond to them.

Reaching this point in my healing journey was not a coincidence; it required significant effort and intentionality. I have engaged in counseling on a weekly basis for several years, exploring various therapeutic approaches, including regular talk therapy, cognitive behavioral therapy, and EMDR, which stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. EMDR is a specialized psychotherapy technique designed to help individuals process and heal from traumatic experiences and the associated emotional distress. I often describe it as both the hardest and most rewarding therapy I have ever done, as I believe it was a pivotal turning point for me. For a long time, I had suppressed my feelings and emotions deeply within myself. Through EMDR, I began the process of peeling back those layers, allowing me to confront and understand my emotions in a healthier way.

While the emotional aspects of grief are paramount, the physical manifestations cannot be overlooked. Grief can lead to chronic tension, stress, and other physical symptoms that exacerbate the emotional burden. Chiropractic care offers a holistic approach to alleviating these physical discomforts. These adjustments can help release muscle tension and improve spinal alignment, which in turn alleviates stress and enhances overall well-being. By addressing the physical manifestations of grief, chiropractic care creates a foundation for emotional healing.

Diet and exercise have proven to be integral components of the healing process. Regular physical activity not only helps reduce stress but also increases the production of endorphins, the hormones responsible for promoting feelings of happiness and well-being. Additionally, a balanced diet rich in nutrients supports overall health, enhances energy levels, and contributes to improved mood stability. Together, a nutritious diet and consistent exercise foster a holistic approach to wellness, enabling individuals to better cope with life’s challenges while enhancing both physical and mental resilience. For example, incorporating activities like yoga or brisk walking into your routine can provide immediate stress relief, while a diet high in fruits, vegetables, lean proteins, and whole grains fuels the body and mind for optimal functioning.

No one should navigate the journey of grief alone. It’s essential to seek out community support groups or individual counseling, as these resources play a crucial role in promoting healing and resilience. The experience of losing a child is filled with profound pain and sorrow; however, it can also be a journey that leads to healing and renewed strength. By understanding the stages of grief, incorporating chiropractic care along with a healthy diet and regular exercise, and connecting with community support, you can discover effective ways to navigate this challenging path. Each step you take is a testament to your enduring love for your child and the resilience of the human spirit.

As I reflected on this topic while writing, I experienced a surge of emotions and found myself crying more than I expected. There were moments when I thought about giving up and keeping my feelings bottled up inside.

However, part of my healing journey involved learning to embrace vulnerability again. I realized that my fear was holding me back, but fortunately, I had support and reassurance that encouraged me to push through these challenging moments. You have the courage to ask for help and find your path to healing!