12. March 2026

Loving Your Kids While Grieving the Family You Lost

By Jenny Kuemmel | Momma Drama & Trauma

February has been a month centered around love, and this week, that love feels layered. It feels complicated. It feels heavy and tender at the same time. This episode, and this reflection, are about what it means to love your kids deeply while grieving the family you thought you would have. Not the marriage, but the family. The future. The togetherness you pictured in your mind long before life changed. This is an honest look at holding both love and grief at the same time, without letting either one erase the other.

The Family I Thought We’d Have

When I think about the family I lost, it’s not the marriage that breaks my heart the most. It’s the picture I always carried in my head of what our family would look like long-term. I imagined my kids growing up and always coming home to one place. Sunday dinners. Holidays together. Their future families gathering under one roof. I imagined being the house everyone came back to.

That’s the part I lost.

Now everything is separate. Split holidays. Divided time. Different houses. And even though life moves forward, that loss still sits quietly in the background. It’s not something I dwell on every day, but it shows up in the moments that are supposed to feel full and happy. The moments where you realize things will never look the way you once imagined.

When Grief Shows Up the Most

Grief shows up for me during milestones. Holidays. Birthdays. Big moments. The times that should feel simple, but instead require coordination and compromise. It’s not just my grief either. It’s watching my kids carry it.

One moment that stays with me is senior night for one of my boys. He assumed both parents would be there. His dad didn’t show up. I walked out to meet him, and all I could say was, “It’s just me.” That was one of those moments where my heart broke not for myself, but for him. That’s the grief I carry the most now. Watching my kids have to live through something they never asked for.

Understanding the Guilt Mothers Carry

There’s a quiet guilt that comes with this kind of grief. Not constant guilt. Not overwhelming guilt. But the kind that sneaks in during happy moments. Guilt for knowing your kids won’t have what you had. Guilt for knowing two adults couldn’t communicate well enough to make things easier for their family.

I don’t walk around carrying guilt all the time, but it shows up when I think about what my kids miss out on. I grew up with parents who were married for fifty years. I wanted that consistency for my kids. And sometimes the guilt comes from knowing that they won’t experience that same sense of home.

There’s also guilt in not being able to fix this for them. In knowing you can’t protect them from every hurt. In realizing that loving them means sitting with their pain instead of taking it away.

How This Changed Me as a Mom

Motherhood feels heavier now in ways it didn’t before. I don’t have backup. I don’t have someone here reinforcing decisions or sharing the emotional load. I’m the one they trust emotionally, and that’s a lot to carry some days.

At the same time, this season has shown me how strong I actually am. I didn’t know I could do this on my own, but I am. I’m learning to let go. To let my kids learn through their own experiences. To accept that I can’t control everything, even though my instinct is to try.

I’ve also learned that stability doesn’t mean recreating the past. It means being present. It means being consistent. It means creating a place where my kids can land, where they’re heard, and where they don’t have to carry anything that doesn’t belong to them.

Solutions & Guidance: Holding Love and Grief Together

Here are some gentle ways I’ve learned to hold both love and grief without letting either one take over:

• Allow yourself to grieve what you lost without minimizing it
• Name the grief when it shows up instead of pushing it away
• Focus on what you still have instead of only what changed
• Create emotional safety by listening instead of fixing
• Let joy exist in small moments without guilt
• Release what you cannot control and return to what you can
• Practice grounding when grief shows up, breathwork, movement, or quiet pauses
• Remind yourself that love and grief can coexist

Recommended Support

Book
Option B by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant
A powerful book about resilience, grief, and finding strength after life doesn’t turn out the way you planned.

Articles
• “Ambiguous Loss and Grieving What Never Was” – Psychology Today
• “Why Grief Can Show Up During Happy Moments” – Verywell Mind
• “Holding Joy and Sadness at the Same Time” – The Atlantic

Final Thoughts

I look at where I was before everything ended and where I am today, and I know this with my whole heart. I am exactly where I’m supposed to be. I am happier now. I’m more grounded. I’m more myself. I’ve learned to find joy again in small moments, like listening to my kids laugh together, sitting in my room sharing stories and memories, even when it’s more than I want to hear.

My family doesn’t look the way I once imagined, but it’s still full of love. And that love is enough to carry us forward, even when grief still lingers in the background.

As Always

You are strong.
You are worthy.
And your story matters.
Until next time, take care of you. 💗