Many times, parents those facing the death of their child will wonder, “How can
we go on?” The pain looks insurmountable. The anticipation of death weighs heavily as
they try to make memories in the short time they have remaining. I can clearly
remember the task of planning Millie’s funeral while I held her in my arms—my LIVING
child. She was talking to me, doing what children do, and I was picking out a coffin,
deciding on songs, and trying to think clearly, knowing all too soon we would lay her in
that very coffin and say goodbye.
The task of living while watching someone die is so hard. We spent each moment
allowing Millie to do whatever she felt up to doing. Sometimes that was riding on the
four-wheeler, playing in the dirt, visiting our horses-while dragging her IV pole behind
her. At other times, it was watching more movies than any three-year-old needs, while
lying on the couch and cuddling up with the family. She spent every moment truly living,
while I spent them worrying how I would live once she was gone.
Millie’s last day arrived quietly. She stayed in her bed that morning, while the rest
of our home went about our day. One by one, we would go into her bedroom, lie beside
her on the bed, and soak in being near her. We had no indication it was our last
moments; we were doing what we had been doing all during her treatment—loving on
Millie at whatever capacity her body could handle that day. Later in the afternoon, we
heard a faint sound from Millie’s bedroom. She was calling us to come to her bedside.
As the family rushed in, we prayed for our sweet one as she was welcomed into
heaven.
That evening, we got the first glimpse of learning to live after loss. There were
things we had to do, like calling the hospice nurses and the funeral home. We called our
family and close friends, informed our pastor and church family, and then made a social
media post sharing with the people who followed Millie’s battle. The upcoming days and
weeks went by in a blur. I’m sure we ate, slept, and paid bills, but mainly I remember the
searing pain of loss. My eyes were red, my cheeks stayed wet, even in my sleep, and I
carried the burden of making sure my husband and children were surviving this tragedy.
I am now five years past losing my girl. I still miss her every single day. My heart
longs for what could have been, but I don’t cry over what isn’t. I have chosen to share
our story in hopes of remembering Millie and helping other grieving parents with their
loss. As for my own life, I had to remember that Millie died, but I didn’t. I still have a
husband, children, and grandchildren that I want to be present for. I don’t want to miss
out on the remaining time I have in life, so instead, I carry my sorrow and joy in the
same hand. It’s okay for me to cry tears of sorrow, missing her during all the joyous
times of our lives. I enjoyed my older daughter’s wedding while still acknowledging that
Millie would have been the flower girl. I held my newborn grandsons and cried,
remembering how Millie would have loved being an aunt to them. Life has continued for
our family, despite Millie’s being over.
Can you survive losing your child?
The answer is, “Yes, you can. Your life will never be the same as it was before
the loss, but it can still be good if you choose to embrace the fact that you need to
continue living life.”
Written by Courtney Mount, mother to Millie. Learn more about Courtney below:
My name is Courtney Mount. I am a Christian wife and mother to nine children, and I am
now blessed to be a grandma to ten adorable grandchildren. Amelia Joy, the youngest
of our nine children, is often called Millie by her older siblings. She is smart, sassy, and
so very funny. She is also now ‘Forever 3’.
Millie was diagnosed with stage 4, high-risk Neuroblastoma, an aggressive childhood
cancer, at the age of 2.5 years old. She entered her battle with the fierce determination
of a little girl who wanted her normal life back. For just over a year, our lives were lived
in two fragmented places –the children’s oncology ward of the hospital, and our farm,
where we retreated after the grueling cancer treatments. Unfortunately, Millie’s cancer
denied her a normal life and left us grieving her death.
Learn more about Millie in Courtney’s books:
- Millie Finds Her Miracle – A Children’s Picture Book
- She Died, I Didn’t: A Mother’s Story of Surviving Grief, Sustaining Faith, and Recognizing Miracle’s Along the Way