EMDR and Grieving a Child's Death: Can Therapy Help When Nothing Else Does?

If you're reading this, I suspect grief has come to rest over your home, and more specifically, you may feel adrift in the sea of child loss and the subsequent grieving process. And part of you may be wondering, "Is there anything that will actually help?" I have seen and experienced the desperation that drives people to search for any way through the fog. They want to feel less pain, they want more peace, and they are often afraid of what will happen when they achieve those goals. They want to leave the stormy sea of a love lost, and yet, they fear what awaits them on the other side.

For some grieving parents, EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing Therapy) offers a lighthouse in the fog, a beacon in the dark night of the soul they feel trapped in. Not by erasing the pain, but by helping the mind and body release what’s become stuck—flashbacks, guilt, physical grief, and the unbearable memories that won’t let go.

EMDR can be the lighthouse you need to make it through the storm of grief.

Is Grieving a Child's Death Even Treatable and What is EMDR?

So what is EMDR therapy, and how could it possibly help with something as complex and sacred as grieving your child?

EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. It’s a trauma-focused therapy that helps the brain and body reprocess distressing memories and sensations—particularly those that feel “stuck” or overwhelming. Unlike traditional talk therapy, EMDR doesn’t require you to retell your story over and over. Instead, it gently supports your brain in doing what it naturally wants to do: move toward integration, healing, and meaning.

In this post, we’ll explore:

• What the latest neuroscience says about grief and how it affects your brain (drawing from Mary-Frances O’Connor’s research). Check out this wonderful TED Talk she gave a few years ago about her research.

• The ways grief lives in the body, and how EMDR can support somatic release

• Common beliefs that keep parents stuck—like “It was my fault” or “If I stop grieving, I’m betraying them”—and how EMDR can help shift those

• Soulful perspectives on grief, including Francis Weller’s Five Gates of Grief, and how EMDR can help you move through them with compassion

• What the research actually says about EMDR and grief recovery

Whether you’re newly grieving or years into a heartbreak that hasn’t softened, this post is here to offer clarity, grounded hope, and a gentle path forward—without asking you to let go of the love you’ll always carry.

What Grieving Parents Often Carry

At the risk of repeating myself and preaching to the choir, I do think it's important to define the commonalities of the experiences of grieving parents. Like I've written about in this post previously, child loss brings out certain universal themes: of loneliness, of separateness, of regret and guilt and shame. When children die, parents are confronted with a hard truth: we have very little control in this world. You can do everything right, and sometimes, devastation parks itself at your door.

In my therapy office, parents tell me that their grief feels physically heavy, "like an elephant sitting on your chest," and they can find themselves dealing with uncomfortable, intense body sensations (chest tightness, panic attacks, unpredictable breathing patterns, stomach aches, sleeplessness or sleeping all the time), like their somatic alarm system is constantly ringing now.

Grief isn't a mental health problem, or diagnosis, to be solved. It isn't just emotional- it's a physiological, neurological, and spiritual process.

The Science: What Happens in the Grieving Brain

"Am I going crazy?" I remember the first time this question showed up in the therapy room with a grieving parent. Spoiler alert: I was the grieving parent, and I remember the alarm I felt, after the death of my first daughter directly after her birth, when I could feel 'phantom kicks' from my uterus six months postpartum. Logically, I knew my child was gone. I knew I wasn't pregnant, and my body was still producing very real feelings of being kicked from the inside like I had experienced in my pregnancy with her.

What was happening there? Well, I think we can look at the emerging brain science and how the grieving brain works. Neurologically, your brain has to learn that the person you are grieving is gone and learning isn't linear and it's based in your attachment to that person. Your love, your connection, your attachment to them expects that person to return. When they do not return, your brain responds as if you are being abandoned. And attachment begins in utero, so it made sense that my body was trying to figure out that my daughter was gone by producing 'phantom kicks'. They ceased as soon as I realized what they were.

Grief, as an emotion, is a difficult and complex thing for your brain to produce. According to Dr. Mary-Frances O'Connor, she states in her book 'The Grieving Brain,' "it involves brain regions that process emotions, recall episodic memories, percieve familiar faces, regulate the heart, and coordinate all of the above functions... but in one study, grief did not active the amygdala." (2022).

So, if you're feeling disoriented, disconnected, and like life is surreal while grieving, it makes sense. Your brain is trying to solve a problem that has no discernible solution. Namely, your brain is trying to figure out and place your person in an updated visual map inside your memory. And, while many people believe in an afterlife, none of us know exactly what it looks like and therefore, our mind cannot picture our person there accurately, which leads to intense distress.

What EMDR Can Do For Grief

1. Reduce the Intensity of the Traumatic Memories

EMDR can help your brain update the learning process, using imaginal exercises, rewriting old scripts keeping you stuck in the grief and giving you pieces of your person back, before the loss. It can help you see your child again, in ways that your brain has forgotten, because your mind was overwhelmed by the unsolvable problem of death. Child death is often riddled with trauma, and for many parents, they can develop PTSD symptoms in the aftermath of grieving, which slows down an already excruciating process. Think of all the moments from the loss of your child, where you still feel frozen in terror. EMDR can help you activate those memories and not be re-triggered into a fear response. You'll never be fond of the memories. They'll never feel good to remember, but EMDR can help release you from the utter devastation and fear they activate within you currently.

2. Free your Body from Somatic Grief

With trauma, physical symptoms are necessary in order to obtain the formal PTSD diagnosis. The fancy wording in the DSM-V is a "marked physiological reactions to internal or external cues that symbolize or resemble an aspect of the traumatic event(s)." In reality, this can look like intense stomachaches, nausea, panic attacks, feeling like you're dying when you are retriggered, jaw tension, trouble sleeping, and heartache. EMDR, through gentle exposure, can help you reduce these symptoms over time by revisiting the memories and subsequent body sensations and just noticing them. Somatic symptoms require witnessing and tending to, not white-knuckling your way through.

3. Shift Unhelpful and Untrue Beliefs You Hold in Relation to the Death of your Child

   “It was my fault”

   “I should have done something different”

   “If I stop hurting, I’ll lose them again”

   EMDR uses a structured protocol to help you examine these negative beliefs, where they were installed within you, and gently redirects to viewing yourself differently within the context of this unimaginable loss. We literally say at some point, "What would you like to believe about yourself instead?" when we encounter these old unhelpful beliefs in EMDR sessions. And, then, using bilateral stimulation (eye movements, tapping, or music/sounds), we move towards a newer, more neutral way of thinking about the death of your child.

4. Create Room for an Ongoing Bond with your Child, Even After the Ultimate Separation

   Healing from your child's death doesn't mean forgetting-- it means integrating the before and after scenes of your life. You were one person before your child died. And now, you are a different person, who still has to keep living. Part of that new way forward is forging a bond with your child, even when you are separated by death. EMDR helps you hold your love and memories without being consumed by suffering.

   
   

A Soul Framework: Francis Weller’s Five Gates of Grief

Not all grief stems from death, but when a child dies, nearly every gate of grief described by author and soul-worker Francis Weller is flung open. In his book The Wild Edge of Sorrow, Weller names five gates through which grief enters our lives:

1. Everything we love, we will lose

2. The parts of us that have not known love

3. The sorrows of the world

4. What we expected but did not receive

5. Ancestral grief

Child loss often begins at Gate 1, but for many parents, grief doesn't stay neatly confined. Gate 2 may open when the loss triggers past wounds—perhaps a voice inside says you're unworthy of joy, or blames you for things outside your control. Gate 4 becomes impossible to ignore: all the birthdays, milestones, and moments you’d imagined sharing with your child are suddenly gone. You are grieving not just a life, but a future and an identity.

EMDR doesn’t close the gates, but it can help you walk through them more intentionally. In sessions, we may explore how current pain connects to old shame (Gate 2), or how grief over your child’s absence blends with deeper grief for a world that doesn’t feel safe anymore (Gate 3). EMDR gently creates space for you to feel these layers of grief without drowning in them. It invites the body, mind, and spirit to honor what’s true—and to find breath and beauty again, even amid the ache.

What the Research Says About EMDR and Grief

While EMDR is best known for treating trauma and PTSD, a growing body of research supports its effectiveness for complicated or prolonged grief—especially when that grief includes traumatic elements, like child loss.

Here’s what the research shows:

• A 2006 study by van den Bout & Kuenhof found that EMDR reduced distress, guilt, and avoidance behaviors in grieving clients, helping them move toward integration.

• Research by Malkinson (2010) demonstrated that EMDR reduced symptoms of Prolonged Grief Disorder by targeting trauma memories and meaning-making blocks.

• Solomon & Rando (2007) wrote that EMDR “appears uniquely helpful for mourners suffering from trauma-related grief,” especially when used alongside traditional grief therapy.

• Even the World Health Organization recognizes EMDR as a best-practice treatment for trauma—which often lives at the heart of a parent's grief.

So no, EMDR won’t erase the love or undo the loss, and it won't take away your memories of your child—but it can reduce the emotional and physiological burden that keeps your grief from softening, and creates space for you to live again.

What to Expect in EMDR Therapy for Grief

If you’re considering EMDR, know that it’s not a quick fix—and it’s not something done to you. It’s a collaborative, client-led process that honors your pace, your readiness, and your relationship with your child.

In EMDR therapy, we often move through the following phases:

• Preparation and resourcing: We start by building safety, trust, and nervous system regulation tools before any trauma is addressed directly.

• Identifying targets: We gently uncover the memories, beliefs, or body sensations that still feel “charged” or stuck. I use the metaphor that your brain has a harried, disorganized secretary up in your memories, just sticking files in random drawers in your memory filing cabinet, and making it hard to close the drawers.

• Reprocessing: Using bilateral stimulation (eye movements, tapping, or sound), you revisit distressing memories in a controlled, supported way. The goal is to help your brain store the memory differently, to put it in the correct file in your brain so you can close the filing cabinet,—so it no longer floods your system when it’s triggered.

• Integration: We work toward new beliefs that feel truer and kinder, helping you carry the loss without being crushed by it.

EMDR doesn’t push you to “move on.” It helps you move with. It’s not about forgetting—it’s about reconnecting: to yourself, to your love for your child, and to your right to experience peace again.

Grief Deserves Gentle Witness, Not a Deadline

If no one has said this to you lately: you’re not doing grief wrong. The ache in your chest, the fog in your brain, the moments of guilt or disbelief—they all make sense in the aftermath of losing your child. Grief this profound doesn’t follow a timeline, and it doesn’t need to be fixed. But it does deserve tending. It deserves space. And you deserve support that can hold the weight of it with you.

EMDR won’t erase your love or undo your story. But it can help ease the panic, soften the guilt, and create room to remember without being shattered. If that sounds like something your heart is ready for—or even just curious about—I’d be honored to walk with you.

You can learn more about EMDR therapy here or reach out here if you feel ready to take that first gentle step.

Take Exquisite Care of Yourself,

Megan

When Grief and Trauma Intermingle: A Look at Child Loss and Traumatic Grief

Hello, friends. I’m writing about something our culture rarely names out loud: the intersection of child loss and traumatic grief. If you’re here, your heart is hurting—whether you’re a parent grieving the death of your child or someone who loves and supports that parent. I see you.

Thank you for getting up today. Thank you for choosing to keep going. Every moment you push through honors your child’s memory. Your love overshadows their death. My hope is to give space to both your grief and your love, and to explain how trauma sometimes folds itself into this experience.

Understanding Grief and Trauma After Child Loss

First, we need to start with general defintions of these two terms: grief and trauma. I define grief as a natural response to losing something or someone; Merriam-Webster defines it as 'deep and poignant distress caused by or as if by bereavement.'

Let's note that grief doesn't have 5 distinct stages, no matter what you've read online. This is a common misconception, due to a misattribution of Dr. Kubler-Ross's work on the 5 stages of dying, which she developed by interviewing 200 chronically ill and dying patients. So, holding yourself to this model (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance) does a disservice to your grieving process. Kubler-Ross reportedly did not think that you needed to go through all five stages in order to get to acceptance. That's just our Western world trying to make sense of the nonsensical again.

Think of grief more like ocean waves. They come and they go, and sometimes there's high tides and sometimes there's low ones, but the water is always present. Your grief doesn't disappear. It recedes and then comes back. And flowing with the waves is better than trying to withstand them.

Trauma is defined, at least by me, as a natural body and emotional response to abnormal events. It's when your body's nervous system is overwhelmed by something happening, and your nervous system then responds any time it is reminded of that occurrence, as if it's happening all over again, even years later. Traumatic grief after child loss might look like never redecorating your child's room, or refusing to visit their graveside, or finding yourself overcome by flashbacks everytime you have to drive by the hospital.

when-grief-and-trauma-intermingle-a-look-at-child-loss-and-traumatic-grief

Grief is like ocean waves.

TL;DR

Grief

• A natural response to losing someone or something precious.

• Merriam-Webster: “deep and poignant distress caused by or as if by bereavement.”

• Not a tidy set of “five stages.” Instead, imagine ocean waves—they rise, fall, recede, return.

Trauma

• A natural body-and-mind response to an abnormal, overwhelming event.

• Your nervous system is “switched on” and may react to reminders as if the loss is happening again.

Why Losing a Child Often Brings Trauma, Too

There are no words adequate to describe what the death of a child does to parents. In fact, I saw a post awhile back that said, "We describe people who lost spouses as widows or widowers, people who lose parents as orphans, but we don't have a word for parents who lose children." And it's true. Perhaps child loss is traumatic simply because it's so unlike anything else.

Such losses may be:

• Sudden (accident, illness, tragedy).

• Violent or medicalized (cancer treatments, emergency interventions, due to war or a crime).

• A complete shattering of safety, control, and identity for most parents and caregivers.

  
  

Somatic symptoms—numbness, nausea, nightmares—overlap with PTSD. Add social isolation (“I don’t know what to say to you…”), and many parents slide from raw grief into traumatic grief.. Without people to lean on, lots of folks find themselves making meaning out of their own shame and guilt regarding their child's death, which can solidify in self-blaming messages.

Here's the hard truth, though: Sometimes, children die. And it's not because of a reason, or a plan, or anyone's fault directly. Sometimes, truly sad and devastating losses occur, and we, as people, just try to make it through them, the best we can.

7 Signs of Traumatic Grief After Child Loss

Grief and trauma can walk hand-in-hand after the loss of a child, but they aren’t always easy to tell apart. Many grieving parents wonder, “Is this still grief—or is something else happening to me?” The truth is, traumatic grief can look and feel very different from “expected” grief.

Here are some signs that trauma may be layered into your grief:

1. Intrusive Thoughts or Flashbacks

   • Re-living the hospital room, the silence of a stillbirth, the accident scene.

   • Racing heart, sweating, feeling trapped in the memory and in your body, unable to move forward.

   • “It’s like I’m back there again, and I can’t escape.”

2. Avoidance of Triggers

   • Skipping hospitals, baby aisles, certain movies, pregnant friends, the cemetery, etc.

   • Avoidance feels rigid and fear-based, not just “I don’t feel up to it.”

   • “I drive miles out of my way to avoid the OB office.”

3. Hypervigilance & Anxiety

   • Constantly on edge, waiting for the next catastrophe, certain that if you can just be ready, it won't hurt so bad this time.

   • Trouble sleeping or resting; body's alarm system shrieking all. the. dang. time.

   • “Every little noise made my heart race and my breath started to get really shallow.”

4. Emotional Numbness or Dissociation

   • Feeling nothing, watching life from outside your body.

   • Losing time or feeling like 'nothing is real' anymore.

   • Others may think you’re “coping well,” but inside you feel disconnected.

   • “I was just going through the motions.”

5. Guilt, Shame & Shattered Identity

   • “I should have known… I failed my child.”

   • Questioning your worth as a parent, partner, or person.

   • “Now I just see all the ways I failed them.”

6. Difficulty Feeling Safe

   • Trust in your body, doctors, faith, God, or the world feels broken.

   • You may try to control everything… or believe nothing can be controlled, and therefore behave more recklessly than you ever have before.

   • “How can I trust my body when it couldn’t protect my baby?”

7. Stuckness in Grief

   • Grief isn’t linear, but trauma can freeze it—numbness, panic, pain on repeat.

   • Pain may feel like punishment or the only remaining connection to your child.

   • “People say time heals, but I find myself feeling worse as time goes on."

A Gentle Note:

If these signs resonate with you, you're not crazy and you're not broken. It means your grief may be more complex, and your nervous system is doing its best to protect you from unspeakable pain.

This kind of grief needs more than time. It needs compassionate, trauma-informed support—and with that support, healing is possible. We don't move past grief. We move with it. We sometimes float in the waves that come and go, and we eventually find our footing in the sand.

My hope is that every grieving parent gets to experience this kind of healing and support, even if it's not with me. Your love for your child never goes away, and you can also still craft a life worth living, even when it seems like all is lost. If you're looking for personalized support, I offer trauma-informed grief counseling to parents in Oklahoma (in-person) and Vermont (telehealth). You can schedule a consultation here, whenever you're ready.

Take exquisite care of yourself,

Megan

How to Get the Most Out of Therapy: 10 Tips for the Savvy Intellectualizer or Feelings-Avoider

Hi friends! I hope you all are doing well. It's the very end of May-vember over here, and I know many of us are tired with all the events, stress and school burnout (if you have kiddos).

Today, I want to talk to a specific group of therapy-goers — current or potential clients who are ready to make real change, but feel stuck. This one’s for the intellectualizers or my feelings-avoiders. You know who you are: the overthinkers, the ones who can tell a great story about your week but freeze when asked, “And where do you feel that in your body?”

You might find yourself explaining your emotions instead of feeling them. You say things like, “I know I should feel upset, but I don’t,” or “I’ve thought a lot about it and here's my theory…”  You show up to therapy consistently, but deep down, you're wondering: Why isn’t this working yet?

Well, well, well... if it isn’t old me in disguise. I get it. I’m an intellectualizer, too. I can walk you through the why behind my behaviors, pinpoint exactly where I went wrong, and outline the family-of-origin dynamics that influenced it — but ask me to describe how it shows up in my body? Game over.

Here’s the thing: our cognitive brain feels like home — logical, articulate, safe. It helps us stay “regulated,” but it can also keep us disconnected from the parts of us that are asking to be felt, healed, and integrated. If we want more than insight — if we want real transformation — we have to shift how we show up in the therapy room.

Below are some tips for the intellectualizers (the ones who can explain everything, feel nothing, and meaning-make the hell out of their symptoms but can't actually sit with them for longer than 10 seconds) so they can get the most out of therapy.

10 tips for the Intellectualizer to get the most out of therapy:

1. You Don’t Have to Feel It to Begin Naming It. If someone asks what you're feeling and you draw a blank, it’s okay to just take a stab: “Maybe anxious? Numb? Not sure.” Naming a maybe feeling is a win. The goal isn’t accuracy — it’s contact. My clients often roll their eyes at me in session, because I will interrupt them after asking this question and they say things like "I think I just got to a place where..." and I'll say, "That's a thought, not a feeling." Thoughts aren't why you're here. If they were, you'd have already figured this whole damn problem out already. You're here because your feelings, body sensations, beliefs and memories are all giving you dang fits and you want to feel better or different now.

2. Guess When You’re Asked, “Where Do You Feel That in Your Body?” There’s no perfect answer. Try taking an elevator ride from your head down into your body and report any sensation that stands out, even if it's only a little bit — “My shoulders feel tight,” “My stomach is heavy,” or even “I feel nothing.” That’s still info for your therapist and it can bring insight to a very analytical discussion and make it more fruitful overall.

3. Use Physical Descriptions, Not Emotional Labels. If “sad” or “anxious” doesn’t land, try describing what’s happening in your body. Your body often tells a story before your mind does:

Tension

Shallow breathing

Coldness

Emptyness

Hunger

Thirst

Throat clearing/skin picking/itchy hands or feet

Wanting to leave the room

Numbness

Tingling

Warmth

4. Try “I Notice” Instead of “I Think”. “I think I’m frustrated” keeps you in your head.“I notice I’m clenching my jaw” gets you closer to the emotion without needing to explain it. For example in EMDR therapy, you'll hear your therapist say things like "What are you noticing?" between sets of bilateral stimulation. And here's a cool trick: anything you're noticing is worth bringing up here. Seriously. You can't do this part of therapy wrong.

5. Use Metaphors if That Feels Easier. Literal emotions not coming through? Try saying, “It feels like I’m carrying a brick,” or “I’m like a coiled spring right now.” These give shape to experiences that are otherwise hard to describe.

Here's an emotion wheel and metaphor wheel mashed together, courtesy of yours truly!

6. Let Your Therapist Know When You’re Feeling Disconnected. If you go blank, zone out, or just feel numb — say so. That is useful information. You don’t have to “perform” in here. Letting your therapist know what’s happening helps them tailor the work to where you are, and gives them ideas of where to press in gently, later on.

7. Give Feedback About the Therapy Process Itself. If a question or statement your therapist throws out feels confusing, confronting, or just not helpful (like “Where do you feel that in your body?”), say so. That’s not disrespect — it’s collaboration. Your therapist is human too, and feedback fine-tunes the work. Great therapists are hopefully already eliciting feedback from you regularly.

8. Pay Attention to What's Happening During a Session. Does your breath get shallower when you talk about something? Do you shift in your seat? Go quiet? These are clues. You don’t have to interpret them, that's your therapist's job, yo, but you can bring them up. A great therapist may also bring them to your awareness, or point out a pattern you've engaged in multiple times in session as well.

9. Know That Not Feeling Anything is a Valid Experience. Feeling “blank” or emotionally flat isn’t a failure — it’s usually protection. Instead of pushing past it, just name it: “I feel nothing right now, but I know this topic matters.” Ask yourself what 'feeling nothing' is protecting you from? What are you afraid will happen if you allowed yourself to just feel?

10. “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” — Carl Jung. The goal of therapy isn’t to feel something on command — it’s to gently bring awareness to what’s been hidden. That includes defenses like overthinking and intellectualizing. The work isn’t about being put together perfectly. It’s about becoming aware, about bringing your whole self to encounter truth. The truth doesn't just set us free. It creates space for more.

So if you’ve been wondering why therapy feels like it’s not quite landing — even though you’re showing up, talking through things, and gaining insight — it might be time to gently invite your body into the conversation. No pressure to suddenly become a feelings guru or somatic expert. Just a willingness to experiment with new ways of being in the room.

Therapy isn’t just about insight; it’s about practicing connection, with a safe, regulated person offering presence and peace, (a.k.a. your therapist). If this post feels a little too accurate… welcome. You’re not alone, and you’re not doing it wrong. You’re just ready for the next layer of the work.

Take exquisite care of yourself,

Megan