Grieving through Living Losses

In the beginning, I always thought Oliver’s diagnosis was something I just had to get through. If I could push a little harder, try a little more, find the right therapy or the right tool, then one day it would be over, or at least a lot easier, and I could finally breathe.

But even five years later, that cycle has never ended.

The cycle itself hasn’t changed, but Oliver has. His struggles have changed. His victories have changed. And yet, I still walk through the same emotions, just in different forms. For so long, I believed that eventually things would get easier, that mourning the life I thought I would have with Oliver meant getting through something… or getting over it.

Recently, I took a class called Grieving Through Living Losses. I went into it hoping to find a way to deal with everything and move forward. Over the years, I’ve tried therapy, and I’ve been praying. So often my prayers were centered on asking God to take the pain and grief away... to help me get over it.

But what I realize is that this may never go away.

I think most people hear the word mourning and think of losing someone who is no longer with you. Some even believe there is a proper “mourning period.” But honestly, I don’t think it ever truly stops; I need to learn how to live with it.

One of the grieving coaches said something that stopped me in my tracks:

“The goal of mourning is to learn to live alongside the loss in healthy ways.”

It’s such a simple phrase, and it sounds easy, but I had never thought about it that way before. So often in life, I try to rush past the hard things. I push the pain down, hoping it will disappear. But those feelings don’t go away completely.

As Oliver grows, some things have become harder. I find myself explaining to other children that he isn’t being mean; he’s nonverbal. He isn’t trying to invade space; he’s curious, trying to understand, and connect in the only way he knows how because of his sensory processing disorder. I see it when it takes everything in me just to help him focus for more than a few minutes at Buddy Ball.

I find myself apologizing. Explaining. Defending.

And sometimes, when people say things like “just be positive” or “don’t be so negative,” even if they mean well, it’s hard not to feel misunderstood. Honestly, it’s more exhausting trying to push these feelings down than it is to be honest with myself.

But I’m beginning to see these moments, these reactions, these emotions… they are all part of mourning.

I am mourning the life I thought Oliver would have.

I mourn every time I look at him and ask God, “Why does it have to be so hard for him?”

And yet, that truth I heard keeps coming back: “The goal of mourning is to learn to live alongside the loss in healthy ways.”

Mourning isn’t something I finish. It isn’t something I check off and move on from. It changes as life changes. As Oliver grows, as his challenges shift, so will the ways I grieve alongside him. I don’t think it’s all that different from losing someone. I don’t stop grieving; the seasons of grief just look different.

It’s hard to balance everyday life, like my relationship with my husband, caring for Oliver’s siblings, and being present in each moment while also carrying the light of not knowing how much time he or I have. Psalm 139:16 reminds me that all our days are written in His book before one of them came to be.

The truth is, none of us really knows. Doctors can make predictions, but they don’t hold the final answer. Only God does, and He knew Oliver’s story long before I ever did.

Looking back, I would never wish this life on Oliver or on our family. But I also know it has shaped me in ways nothing else could have. It has taught me how to advocate, how to slow down, and how to find joy in the smallest moments, lessons I’m still learning every day.

When I think about my life, the mistakes, the experiences, the people who have come and gone, I can see now how God was preparing me for something I didn’t even understand.

Things may get harder as Oliver gets older. But I know God is equipping me through every challenge with the strength, patience, and tools I need to walk this road.

I still ask “why” sometimes. But I also trust that there is a purpose in all of it.

Just as Oliver is learning to live with his diagnosis and his struggles, I am learning to live alongside him, walking with him in the good life God has given.