What if grief doesn’t begin as a thought? What if it stays in our body? What happens
when our body remembers exactly what loss has asked us to carry?
Over the past season of Beyond the Loss, we have focused on the ways grief reaches
far beyond the early days. We’ve looked at the changing architecture of loss over
time, the continuing internal relationships we hold with our children, and the ache
over futures that never got to happen. But as I mapped out where we must go next, I
found myself drawn to the parts of life after loss that are even less visible. The parts
that don’t look like grief to other people – and might not even look like grief to us at
first.
The physical body is one of those places.
In the clinical world, we often refer to this as somatic awareness, which simply
means tuning into the deep connection between our minds and the physical
sensations inside our bodies. After a child dies, grief is not merely a collection of
thoughts we process or words we speak. It is an environment we inhabit physically.
And sometimes, the body carries pieces of the story that our minds cannot hold all at
once.
If your body remembers, it is not a failure. It may be telling the truth in
the only language it has.
The Fight-or-Flight Old Assignment
For parents who cared for a child through prolonged illness, rare disability, addiction,
mental health struggles, or long windows of clinical uncertainty, your body spent
years on absolute high alert. You learned to live on watch—interpreting a slight
change in breathing, a subtle tone of voice, a ringing phone at an unusual hour, or a
shift in posture so minor no one else in the room would notice.
That kind of attention is not just a mental state; it becomes physically wired into your
nervous system. Your body learns how to brace, how to scan, and how to constantly
prepare for the next emergency.
When our son or daughter dies, the outside world observes that the crisis has ended.
The medical equipment is wheeled out, the appointments stop, and the daily rounds
of caregiving are no longer required. But inside the parent, the nervous system
doesn’t have an off-switch. The mind understands that life has changed, but the
body continues living according to the old assignment—still waiting for the next
emergency call, still braced for impact.
For parents who experienced a sudden, unexpected loss, the somatic reality is just as
intense. The body permanently stores the physiological shock of that specific door
knock, that message, or that first phone call when the universe fundamentally
fractured.
When the Body Speaks First
Because grief is completely non-linear and disorderly, it rarely presents itself with a
neat label attached. Instead, it arrives as a physical sensation first:
● A sudden, paralyzing tightness in your chest days before an anniversary.
● An overwhelming, unexplainable fatigue on a day that seems entirely ordinary
to the rest of the world.
● A tightening in your stomach the moment you step into a medical building,
before a single conscious thought has crossed your mind.
When these physical symptoms surface—whether through anxiety, changes in
sleep, chronic exhaustion, or tension—parents are often incredibly hard on
themselves. We demand an analytical explanation for why we cannot settle or why
we want to run out of a room.
But if we continuously push these sensations down, dismiss them as overreactions,
or ignore what our tissue is screaming, that structural disconnection creates massive
internal strain over time. Listening to your body without judgment isn't about
turning your health into a frantic new project; it is about extending basic care to
what your body is asking for.
The Illusion of High Functioning
There is a massive trap for those of us who have learned to "function" exceptionally
well. Grieving parents are frequently masters of functionality. We manage major
professional responsibilities, return to work, reply to emails, care for surviving family
members, and hit every calendar appointment.
Because we look busy and productive, the outside world assumes we are doing fine.
But our bodies are often keeping a far more complicated ledger. The body may be
holding onto massive structural tension we’ve trained ourselves to ignore, quietly
begging for rest while we continue to push through the day.
Recognizing that your body needs quiet or space does not mean you are weak,
fragile, or diminished. It means you are choosing to look honestly at what this loss
has required of you. Your body does not only carry the pain of the end; it carries your
entire history of devotion. It carries the physical miles of driving, the sleepless nights
of waiting, the holding, the hoping, the praying, and the enduring.
The physical body was an integral part of the love. It makes perfect sense that it is an
integral part of the grief.
If your physical aftermath feels overwhelming – resulting in flashbacks, panic attacks,
chronic insomnia, or profound anxiety – please remember there is no shame in
seeking support from professionals trained in somatic experiencing, trauma-informed care, or nervous system regulation. What your body carried was heavy, and
it deserves specialized care.
Pattern-to-Practice: A Somatic Reflection for the Week
This week, I want to offer an incredibly simple practice of somatic noticing.
Over the next few days, actively pay attention to moments when your body seems to
react before your brain completely understands why. If you feel a sudden wave of
fatigue, a change in your breathing pattern, a restlessness in your limbs, or an
alertness when there is no visible danger, pause gently.
Do not try to analyze it, force a deep meaning onto it, or fix it. Simply step away from
the noise, place a hand on your chest, take a slow breath, and ask your body:
● What might my body be remembering right now?"
Acknowledge the sensation by telling yourself, "Something in me is responding, and
it is allowed to be here." Let that quiet recognition be enough for today.
Connect with me:
● Website: https://sharonspano.com
● Podcast: https://sharonspano.com/podcast/
● YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@SharonSpano-BeyondtheLoss-Host
● Substack: substack.com/@drsharon
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About Beyond the Loss
Beyond the Loss: Life and Identity After a Child Dies is a podcast dedicated to
helping grieving parents, bereaved families, and professionals navigate the
emotional, relational, and identity shifts that follow the death of a child. Through
compassionate conversations and clinical insight, we create space for healing,
understanding, and honest reflection after profound grief.