Why Can’t I Move On After Baby Loss? A Conversation on Grief

If I could change the way we talk about baby loss, here’s what I’d say…

Not with clichés.

Not with silence.

Not with “at least it was early.”

But with honesty, kindness, and space to feel what’s really there.

Because grief doesn’t have an expiry date.Because you can be deeply grateful and still feel heartbroken.Because so many women are carrying this quietly—smiling on the outside while trying to make sense of the pain that never quite goes away.

In this week’s episode of The Imperfect Mum podcast, I speak to the incredible Kate from Gentle Footprints—a mum who’s experienced multiple baby losses and now supports others in the way she needed.

She shared things I think every woman should hear:

🌿 That joy and grief can coexist.

🌿 That journaling (or just recording a voice note) can help untangle thoughts that feel too heavy to carry.

🌿 That grief doesn’t get smaller—you grow around it.

🌿 That sharing your story can be a lifeline—not just for you, but for someone else who thought they were alone.

This isn’t just for women who’ve experienced baby loss.It’s for anyone who’s ever felt their grief was too much. Or not enough.Too invisible. Or too complicated to name.

I recently spoke with Kate from Gentle Footprints on The Imperfect Mum podcast, and her honesty around grief, baby loss, and the silent weight so many of us carry stayed with me long after we finished recording.

Kate is a mum to two living boys. But she’s also lost seven babies, ranging from 8 to 23 weeks. She’s someone who gets it—who’s been through the rawness and complexity of loss and now supports women in a way that honours both the pain and the growth that comes after it.

What really struck me was the way Kate spoke about grief coexisting with joy. That it’s possible to feel the deepest love and the deepest sadness in the same moment. That your grief doesn’t disappear just because time has passed or because you’ve gone on to have other children. You’re still allowed to miss the babies you didn’t get to keep.

One thing Kate said really stayed with me: “There’s this idea that once you have another baby, everything’s fixed. But grief doesn’t work like that. My daughter would have started secondary school this year, and on that day, I felt it. Even now, 13 years later, she’s still part of my every day.”

This isn’t about “moving on.” This is about growing around grief.

That phrase really resonated with me. As a therapist, I often talk about grief like a shape inside us—it doesn’t shrink, but our lives slowly grow around it. We adapt. We become a new version of ourselves. Not because we wanted to, but because we had to.

And yet, so many women feel like they should be over it. That they should be grateful. That because they have one child, they shouldn't want more. That they shouldn’t feel this sad. That they’re being dramatic. But grief isn’t logical. You can feel grateful and gutted. You can love your children and still miss the ones who aren’t here. Two things can be true.

We talked about the pressure to rush healing—to bounce back, get on with life, be okay. But grief doesn’t work to a schedule. Some days it’s a quiet ache. Other days, it knocks the breath out of you. And for many women, there’s guilt layered on top—guilt for not being over it, for comparing themselves to others, for feeling anything at all.

If that’s you, please hear this: You are not selfish. You are not too much. You are grieving. And grieving is love with nowhere to go.

So what can help?

Kate and I both shared how powerful journaling can be. Not to write something perfect, but just to get the thoughts out of your head. To say the things you wouldn’t say out loud. Even if it’s a few lines scribbled in a notebook.

If you’re not sure where to begin, here are some gentle prompts to start with:

• What do I need right now, in this exact moment?

• What am I afraid to say out loud?

• What do I want someone to understand about my grief?

• What am I grieving, beyond the loss itself?

• What would I say to a friend who felt like this?

  
  

And here’s the other truth—sometimes, in the depths of grief, even picking up a pen feels too hard. That’s okay. If writing feels too much, try speaking. Open the voice recorder on your phone and just talk. Say what you’re feeling. Let the words come without judgement. Listening back later might help you understand what’s going on in your heart more clearly than you realised.

Another thing we talked about was how important it is to have someone safe to talk to. Not someone who tries to fix it or rush it. But someone who gets it, who can sit beside you in the mess. Kate offers support in such a gentle, accessible way—from local walk-and-talks in Bristol to one-to-one coaching and Telegram support for women navigating life after loss.

Her work is built on compassion, honesty, and lived experience. And she’s created the kind of space so many women wish had existed when they were going through it.

If you’re not ready to talk yet, that’s okay too. Maybe your first step is just reading this. Maybe it’s writing a sentence in a notebook. Maybe it’s sending a message to someone who gets it. Whatever it is, let it be small and kind. The first step doesn’t have to be big. It just has to be yours.

If you’ve felt alone in your grief, please know: you are not alone. There is support. There are people who understand. And there is a future waiting—not the one you imagined, but one you can still grow into, gently, in your own time.

🎧 Listen to “Living With Grief: A Conversation for the Days That Feel Heavy” on The Imperfect Mum Podcast now.👉 https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/the-imperfect-mum/id1694284375

💬 If this resonates, comment or share it with someone who needs it—or send me a message on Instagram. My DMs are always open: @natashanyeketherapy

And if this resonated and you feel like you’re ready for more support, I offer both therapy and mindset coaching for mums who feel lost in the noise of grief, anxiety, or perfectionism.

Whether you’re navigating baby loss or simply trying to reconnect with yourself after motherhood has changed everything, I’m here. Together we can find a way forward that feels kind, grounded, and real.

You can find out more or book a free call [insert link or mention how they can reach out]—I’d love to hear from you.

Natasha x