Every year I find myself in what I call a grief season. A period of time where I can’t escape my grief.

It begins before Mother’s Day, ends just after Father’s Day and right in the middle is Levi’s stillbirthday.

I find myself caught up in the deep throes of grief like no other time in the year. There are other hard moments in the year, but it always seems to be a longer stretch of time around his birthday that swells around me.

For me, I find it’s the culmination of all the celebrations. Mother’s Day is preceded by Bereaved Mother’s Day and honestly no one wants to be a part of that day. Mother’s Day itself is hard for me as in so many ways, it is a reminder for me that not all my children are here. My birthday when I was pregnant with Levi is full of so many happy and naive memories. His birthday was traumatic and grief-stricken. And Father’s Day is another reminder of who isn’t in the room.

Most people who live with grief have grief-iversaries; birthdays, dates of death, funeral dates, last conversations, etc. Certain days that are triggers for grief. It just seems for me that they all culminate within a few weeks increasing the days to a season.

I’ve dubbed these few weeks as my grief season, because it covers a significant portion of time. I feel drained during these weeks, like basic conversation is work. It pulls at me, the reminders everywhere of what season I am in. The reminders of what happened, of who isn’t in the room, of how things could be so entirely different.

And I am learning through the years to lean into this season, rather than disregard it. To allow myself space to be sad, to be happy, to be quiet, to laugh, to cry. It seems emotions and memories are right at the surface and to deny them is to give them power to take over.

Leaning into your grief can be a gift; letting yourself remember brings healing, allowing yourself to feel sad brings peace and giving space for grief allows space for the other emotions tied to your grief.