When Grief Meets Partnership: Navigating Child Loss as a Couple
- Megan Secrest

- 13 minutes ago
- 6 min read
When I first became a therapist, I didn’t imagine I’d work with couples. And I certainly didn’t expect to sit with parents grieving the death of a child. In the beginning, anxiety was the most common thread I followed. But then life, as it tends to do, cracked me open. I became a grieving parent. And something in me shifted. I began to feel called to walk alongside others navigating that same, impossible terrain.

Couples work emerged naturally, not just as an extension of grief support, but as its own inquiry: How do people stay together when the unthinkable happens? How does grief shape the space between partners, not just within them?
When our daughter died at birth, my husband and I were already four months into the grieving process. We’d known about her fatal diagnosis since the ultrasound, and yet, nothing prepares you for the stillness of a delivery room when the baby doesn’t cry. And to add insult to injury, we then experienced two years of infertility afterwards and three subsequent miscarriages before we had our one living child in 2020.
At the time of our first daughter's death, my grief came in bursts: tight, hot, sudden. His grief was quiet, folded inward. In those first weeks, he tucked me into bed every night because I couldn’t bear to sleep alone. It was the only part of our old rhythm that still felt steady.
And still, the distance came. I remember one fight. I was sobbing, screaming, utterly unraveled. He sat across from me on our brown couch, silent and shut down. We were both grieving, but in such different languages it felt like we’d lost each other, too.
That was the night we made a choice. Not to pretend things were okay. Not to erase the hurt. But to stay. To walk through the grief together, even if that meant limping.
This post is for couples standing in that same hallway of life, grieving a child, and wondering if your relationship will survive. My hope is to offer not answers, but orientation. You’re not doing it wrong. Grief pulls us apart, and it can also become a reason to reach for each other again.
The Double Impact: Grief with Child Loss and Relationship Stress
Grief often doesn’t arrive quietly. It floods the room. And when you're in a relationship, it doesn’t just touch your individual heart. It often gets into the dirty, dark underworld of the partnership.
After our daughter died, I felt like we, feeling desperate and disoriented, were both gasping for air in the dark, murky waters of grief. Sometimes we bumped into each other; sometimes we drifted in opposite directions.
It’s common to face communication breakdowns, where words either miss their mark or dry up entirely. Intimacy can slip away, not just physically but emotionally,like reaching for someone in the dark and finding they’ve turned to face the wall. Financial strain adds pressure, especially with the unexpected costs that come with medical care and memorials. And guilt, spoken or not, often seeps into the spaces between you, adding weight to already heavy days.
Statistically, 30% of parents report feeling more negatively toward their spouse after losing a child. Nearly 1 in 5 husbands and 1 in 7 wives say their marriage deteriorated. And yet, around 72% of couples remain married in the years after child loss.
Attachment theory tells us that loss activates our core fears about abandonment, rejection, and being too much or not enough. You need your partner more than ever, and at the same time, you may feel unable to reach them.
How Grief Shows Up Differently in Each Partner
I cried in corners. He kept the fridge stocked. I wrote long journal entries. He checked on my breathing at night.
Different isn’t wrong. But when you’re hurting, it’s easy to interpret difference as distance,or worse, disinterest.
Therapists describe two broad styles: intuitive grievers, who tend to feel through their loss with tears, stories, and quiet aching; and instrumental grievers, who process by doing,organizing, fixing, showing up in action.
If you’re one and your partner is the other, misunderstandings can multiply. You might think, “You never talk about her,don’t you care?” while they silently think, “I can’t fall apart,someone has to keep the lights on.”
You might both feel alone, even in the same bed.
Understanding these patterns won’t erase the pain, but it can loosen the grip of blame. It can make space for compassion.
Common Myths That Hurt Couples in Grief
There are stories grief tells us, quietly, cruelly, that make things harder.
One of the most painful is the belief that we should grieve the same way. But that sameness doesn’t exist. Even in the same household, love and loss take different shapes.
Another myth: that if my partner looks strong, they must not be hurting. Often, strength is just armor.
And perhaps the most persistent myth of all is that time will fix this. But time doesn’t heal, attention does. Care does. Presence does.
And despite the common claim that most marriages don’t survive the death of a child, the truth is more hopeful. Research shows that 72% of bereaved couples remain together. Grief doesn’t make the decision for you,how you respond to each other does.
What the Research Shows
72% of couples stay together after losing a child.
30% report increased conflict or negative feelings toward their partner.
Couples who talk openly or create rituals together often grow closer.
Building Bridges Instead of Walls
There’s no map for this journey. However, there are handrails: small practices that can steady you.
Set aside time for grief conversations. Not problem-solving, just space to say out loud what hurts and what helps. These moments don’t need to be long. What matters is consistency and safety. You might find that naming your pain aloud invites your partner’s presence, even if they don’t have the right words.
Consider creating rituals of remembrance together. In our home, we get a birthday cake and candles on her birthday. We say her name. Some nights we just sit with a photo, not speaking. These moments tether us, to her, and to each other.
Allow joy and life to co-exist with sorrow. Watch something funny. Go for a walk. Make dinner together. These aren’t betrayals of your child’s memory. They’re small signs that life is still here, and you’re still in it, together.
Check in on your relationship, not just the grief. Ask, “How are we doing, the two of us?” Let yourselves be partners again,not just co-survivors.
And when words are too hard, use physical presence. A hand on the back. A shared blanket. A long, quiet exhale together. These small gestures remind your respective nervous systems: I’m here. You’re not alone.
Reclaiming Intimacy
After loss, even touch can feel like a risk. For many of my clients, their desires for sex and affection can wax and wane during the grieving process. This is common, and it's okay.
Rebuilding physical closeness isn’t linear. Start small. A hand resting on a shoulder. Sitting close without expectation. Saying, “I miss you,” even if you’re not ready to do anything about it yet.
Talk about what’s hard. Let your partner know what feels safe, and what doesn’t, without shame.
Intimacy after grief isn’t about returning to “normal.” It’s about discovering what closeness looks like now, in the world that exists after.
Let it be slow. Let it be tender. Let it be enough.
When Professional Support Is Needed
Some pain is too heavy to carry without help. Therapy doesn’t mean you’re irrevocably broken. It means you’re tending to what matters.
Reach out when the conflict feels stuck on repeat, or when silence becomes the only language you share. If one of you feels shut out, or shut down. If you’re drifting farther than you want to be.
Therapies like EMDR, relational life couples therapy, or grief-informed work can make space for healing. Sometimes, having someone else hold the story with you makes it easier to speak, and to hear each other again.
Conclusion
As a therapist, I work with grieving parents both individually and as couples. Sometimes that grief is about child loss. But often, it’s other kinds of loss: infidelity, identity shifts, the grief of growing apart, or the ache of wanting to grow together through something hard. Grief doesn’t always wear black. And it doesn’t always come with a funeral. But it shows up in our relationships all the same. You don’t have to navigate it alone.
You can love each other and still feel lost. You can grieve differently and still stay together.
Healing doesn’t mean forgetting. It means weaving the loss into your shared life,thread by thread, with tenderness.
If you're ready to talk, I'm here. I work with clients in person in Edmond, OK, and offer telehealth sessions to individuals and couples across Vermont. Not to fix what can’t be fixed, but to help you carry it, together.
Take exquisite care of yourselves,
Megan
Sources
Najman, J. M., Vance, J. C., Griffiths, R. F., & Yuen, E. Y. (1993). The impact of the death of a child on marital adjustment. Social Science & Medicine, 37(8), 1005–1010.
Murphy, S. A., Johnson, L. C., & Lohan, J. (2003). Finding meaning in a child's violent death: A five-year prospective analysis of parents' personal narratives and empirical data. Death Studies, 27(5), 381–404.
The Compassionate Friends. (2022). Myths and facts about grief. Retrieved from https://www.compassionatefriends.org
TAPS Institute. (2021). Marriage after the death of a child. Retrieved from https://www.taps.org/articles/21-1/divorce
Vance, J. C., et al. (2008). Psychological changes in parents eight years after the death of their infant. Pediatrics, 122(5), e1295–e1301.
Reproductive Health Finland Study. (2017). The long-term impact of child loss on parental divorce and family planning. Retrieved from https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/28789590


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