Lost my 16yr old Daughter to Cancer

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  • #19877

    Almost 9 months ago I lost my 16 yr old daughter to Cancer. We battled Neuroblastoma for 3 years until there were not more treatments.
    I dont know if I have really even started to grieve.
    I feel like I have lost my purpose in life and I just go through the daily motions. I still have my 11 year old Son and other aspects of my life are good but I dont find any joy in things anymore. I still cry daily and wish for her back. I will never be ok with her being ripped out of my life. I don’t feel like I will ever truly experience happiness again. I dont know if I can continue to put on a happy face when my whole world has fallen to pieces. I no longer fear dying because I feel like each day that passes I am one day closer to being with her again (I do not think about harming myself)
    Does it get better?

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    Plwase share the music xxx


    Thank you everyone for your beautiful kind words and support. I joined this forum in a moment of hopelessness. Every now and then when I get a reply it reminds me that I am not alone so thank you all for taking that time and brightening my day.
    1 year passed on May 22nd 2022 since I lost my baby. I dreaded the day and wished I could sleep it away but I woke up and it was like there was a shift. A sense of relief, as though I had made it.
    365 days without seeing her face or hearing ” Hey Mum” when I got home from work. My loss still hits me everyday. I have moments where I am breathless and it floors me again I can’t fathom the idea that she is not here.
    My mum had a dream that my daughter told her I need to listen to music. I love music and my kids have always loved music but honestly it just has not felt the same for me so I have denied myself even listening. A few days before the dreaded day I started listening again and all those feelings of joy came back. I felt alive again. Right now I am ok so I am just running with it while it lasts. It doesn’t get easier and I believe I have started to accept that. A friend of mine who lost her brother recently said it’s almost like you die. I agree on May 22 2021 I died. I will never be that person again. I think we grieve ourselves too. We grieve that fact that we are not the same and everything will never be ok again. You never accept your child dying I think what you do accept is the loss of your old self.
    My heart goes out to all other grieving parents but please remember you are not alone. Don’t let anyone tell you what’s right or wrong. You do you. It won’t get easier but you will live again.
    I read a post on a grief page I follow on FB the post read along the lines of.
    “You begged for their pain to be taken away and it was. Now you bear the pain of their absence”.
    I dont remember how many times I begged God to take Kaylees pain away and if I now have to endure this pain for eternity for her to not suffer anymore then I will do that and I will make her proud. If anyone would like to see Kaylees journey her public FB Page is still active
    Kaylee Kicking Cancer’s Butt. I have not taken her page down as even though she has gone she was so strong and inspirational and I feel like I would be doing her an injustice by not continuing to share her story.
    In the words of my daughter
    “One day Cancer will be nothing but a zodiac sign”
    Stay Strong


    by Dr. Joanne Cacciatore
    I am a mother. I am a bereaved mother. My child died, and this is my reluctant path. It is not a path of my choice, but it is a path I must walk mindfully and with intention. It is a journey through the darkest night of my soul and it will take time to wind through the places that scare me.
    Every cell in my body aches and longs to be with my beloved child. On days when grief is loud, I may be impatient, distracted, frustrated, and unfocused. I may get angry more easily, or I may seem hopeless. I will shed many, many, many tears. I won’t smile as often as my old self. Smiling hurts now. Most everything hurts some days, even breathing.
    But please, just sit beside me.
    Say nothing.
    Do not offer a cure.
    Or a pill, or a word, or a potion.
    Witness my suffering and don’t turn away from me.
    Please be gentle with me.
    And I will try to be gentle with me too.
    I will not ever “get over” my child’s death so please don’t urge me down that path.
    Even on days when grief is quiescent, when it isn’t standing loudly in the foreground, even on days when I am even able to smile again, the pain is just beneath the surface.
    There are days when I still feel paralyzed. My chest feels the sinking weight of my child’s absence and, sometimes, I feel as if I will explode from the grief.
    Losing my child affects me in so many ways: as a woman, a mother, a human being. It affects every aspect of me: spiritually, physically, mentally, and emotionally. There are days when I barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore.
    Grief is as personal to me as my fingerprint. Don’t tell me how I should or shouldn’t be grieving or that I should or shouldn’t “feel better by now.” Don’t tell me what’s right or wrong. I’m doing it my way, in my time. If I am to survive this, I must do what is best for me.
    My understanding of life will change and a different meaning of life will slowly evolve. What I knew to be true or absolute or real or fair about the world has been challenged so I’m finding my way, moment-to-moment in this new place. Things that once seemed important to me are barely thoughts any longer. I notice life’s suffering more- hungry children, the homeless and the destitute, a mother’s harsh voice toward her young child- or an elderly person struggling with the door. There are so many things about the world which I now struggle to understand: Why do children die? There are some questions, I’ve learned, which are simply unanswerable.
    So please don’t tell me that “ God has a plan ” for me. This, my friend, is between me and my God. Those platitudes slip far too easily from the mouths of those who tuck their own child into a safe, warm bed at night: Can you begin to imagine your own child, flesh of your flesh, lying lifeless in a casket, when “goodbye” means you’ll never see them on this Earth again? Grieving mothers- and fathers- and grandparents- and siblings won’t wake up one day with everything ’okay’ and life back to normal. I have a new normal now.
    As time passes, I may gain gifts, and treasures, and insights but anything gained was too high a cost when compared to what was lost. Perhaps, one day, when I am very, very old, I will say that time has truly helped to heal my broken heart. But always remember that not a second of any minute of any hour of any day passes when I am not aware of the presence of my child’s absence, no matter how many years lurk over my shoulder, don’t forget that I have another one, another child, whose absence, like the sky, is spread over everything as C.S. Lewis said.
    My child may have died; but my love – and my motherhood – never will.


    Hi there, hoping to hear how you’re going xx


    Hello @KB2146,

    Thank you for sharing your story with us. I am truly heartbroken to hear that you have lost your daughter. There is no greater loss than to lose a loved one and to have lost your own child is just devastating.
    How have you been coping? Have you found something that is helpful for you at this time? I’d really like to hear how you are going.
    Please know that you are not alone in this grief as can be seem by other forum posts by @moon, @grievingmum and @debsayge. I am sorry you are all experiencing this type of heartache and loss. Hopefully @KB2146 you can find some comfort in knowing there are people out there who understand this type of grief and that you feel connected, comfortable and understood on the forums. Please let us know how you are going.
    Sending you healing and strength.
    Take care of yourself.


    Dearest KB,
    I’m hoping your reading, and maybe like me pretty incapable of reaching out, yes you are thought of and we are all holding you, it’s unbearable and no one can understand, but us here, and we don’t understand ourselves anymore, we don’t know even who we are anymore, though here we are together somehow and sending you love


    Dearest KB
    I have just come to this site as desperate to feel in a safe place with other grieving Mumma’s, I’ve read your words which I know don’t even come close to the wretched feelings we have every waking moment now, just wanting/needing to reach out to you to say you are heard and felt by me also as your feelings reflect mine….Kb I’m so sad for you and all you have and do endure and my prayer is always to devote my pain and soul ache to all other grieving Mumma’s. I’ve not been able to speak of my beautiful girl Sayge 19yrs2mths 1 day)!or write about it as yet it’s just too much for me to cope with however reaching out to you is as much as I can bare to say my sweetsayge left on 15/1/21 and I too am without purpose, crying all the time to exhaustion, we have been everything to each other I’m in utter broken disbelief…our story is similar to yours which maybe I could share at another time if you want to keep talking. Isn’t it soooo impossible to speak about, the horrors of that happening to our! Belovedsxx as you I’ve felt deeply the anguish and pain my Sayge had to endure, and what for! Just to lose them. I can’t do anything I’m a mess and I need to feel the understanding of these bereft Mumma’s.
    Thank you for being here bravely sharing as you have so far so as frightened Mumma me can feel I belong somewhere
    Thankyou all for your words of support to all who are tragically here
    Loving hugs For now


    Hi grievingmum, a hug from another grieving mum. I can feel the weight of your pain in your words and want to reassure you are heard and not alone in this.
    I think it’s incredibly brave of you to reach out so soon after losing your baby girl. I can offer words of empathy, but it’s your words that need to be voiced.
    When I first posted I had immediate replies from the facilators with helpful resources, maybe think about creating your own post – this deserves it. I will follow you.
    My son had t-cell ALL, relapsed and had a bmt, I can relate to all the chemo and procedures you endured. I say you, because I understand we, as mums’ endure everything alongside our child. I’m still raw with grief, how is it possible I had to bury my child? How can I possibly live without him ?
    There’s a poem under the forum ‘grieving mother’s I’d invite you to read. It said, everything I couldn’t say, but wanted to voice.
    My son has a twin sister and 2 elder brothers, so I get that you still have to be mum to your two sons. A different mum, but they already know that, and how much you love them.
    As I type this, sitting on my back deck, fondly remembering easter egg hunts, I’m wearing my sons clothes and it’s comforting. Yes, I sit on his bed and talk to him everyday.
    I long to hear his laugh, feel the warmth of his hugs, kiss his cute chubby cheeks, I miss everything more than I feel I can bear.
    And then something unexpected happens, an owl will come and sit right next to me at night, 5 butterflies will land on my shoulder, rosella’s will land on my budgies cage and sing her a song, and somehow my tormented heart feels at peace. However momentary, be watchful for these moments, they are there for you too xxx


    KB2146, I lost my 6 year old daughter to Leukaemia on March 30th, 17 days ago. Three days after her 6th birthday. We had been undergoing chemotherapy for 2 years & 4 months, 3 weeks off ringing the bell, she relapsed. But hope wasn’t lost, we were in QCH preparing for a BMT (on the safest ward, in the safest room) when she suddenly and unexpectedly contracted a fungal brain infection and died.
    I can’t believe I am alive, and she is not. It is impossible. I wish I was with her.. (also not considering harm) but I wish I’d die of heartbreak or be struck by lightning.
    She was alive. Now she’s dead. One minute I had her sweet arms around me, now she’s gone. How does this even happen? Why?
    I am now clutching remnants of her life, toys she loved, pajamas she wore.. but I don’t want that. I want her.
    She has 2 other brothers, 9 & 11, but I feel completely broken. It’s just wrong. She was 6.

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