Say Their Name: A 60-Day Journal for First Steps

• Numbness or disbelief: You may feel unreal, like you are watching your life from outside your body. Or you may keep thinking, “This cannot be happening.”

• Emotional whiplash: You might feel okay for a moment, then suddenly collapse into tears. Or you might cry without warning, even when you were just thinking about something ordinary.

• Anger: Anger can be directed at doctors, at the universe, at other people, at yourself, or at anyone who says the wrong thing. Sometimes it feels like it comes from nowhere.

• Guilt: “I should have noticed.” “I should have done more.” “If I had been there.” Guilt can be relentless, even when you know, logically, that you did everything you could.

• Loneliness: People mean well, but life continues for them. You might feel isolated even in a room full of people.

• Sleep and appetite changes: Some people can’t sleep at all. Others sleep too much. Food might taste like nothing, or you might feel nauseated at the thought of eating.

• Physical symptoms: Grief is not only emotional. It can show up as headaches, stomach pain, chest tightness, fatigue, or feeling shaky and restless.

• Hyper-focus on details: Dates, paperwork, last words, hospital rooms, drive routes, phone calls. Your mind tries to build an “if only” map.

And then there are the moments that catch you off guard, when grief is not loud at all. Sometimes it is quiet. Sometimes it is a sudden wave when you see something that reminds you of your child: a familiar toy, a song on the radio, a school hallway, a birthday candle in a store window.

In those moments, you might feel like you are “back at the beginning.” That does not mean you are stuck. It means your love is still active, and your heart is still learning the new reality.

Permission to Take It One Day at a Time

In the first weeks, you may feel pressure from the outside world to “move forward.” People might say things like “time heals,” or they may avoid your child’s name entirely. Even well-meaning friends can get uncomfortable with the depth of your grief.

This journal gives you a different path. Not a shortcut. Not a contest. Just permission to take it one day at a time.

Some days, you may write a full page. Other days, you might write one sentence. On the hardest days, you might only write your child’s name. That counts. Loving remembrance counts. Honesty counts.

There is no achievement here. There is only care.

What This 60-Day Journal Will Do (and What It Won’t)

This journal is designed for the early part of grief, when your body and mind are trying to adjust to a loss that cannot be explained. Over 60 days, you will be guided through small, manageable steps that honor your experience without rushing you.

Here is what you can expect from this journal:

• Gentle prompts that help you notice what you are feeling and what you need in the moment.

• Space for your child’s name because memory deserves to be spoken, not swallowed.

• Grounding activities to help you stay connected to yourself when feelings get overwhelming.

• Permission to be honest about the hard parts - the anger, the guilt, the confusion, the numbness.

• Practical support for the realities of early grief, like sleep, time, and difficult conversations.

And here is what this journal will not do:

• It will not tell you to “get over it.”

• It will not try to replace your support system.

• It will not pretend grief has a neat timeline.

• It will not ask you to perform “acceptable sadness” for anyone else.

If you are worried that writing will make you feel worse, you are not alone. Grief can be messy. But this journal is not meant to push you into pain. It is meant to help you carry it with more steadiness, one day at a time.

The Journey Starts Now, Not Later

Sometimes people wait to begin. They think, “When I feel more ready.” Or they tell themselves they will start after the funeral, after the paperwork, after the house is quieter, after the visitors stop coming.

But early grief is exactly when you need a place to put your thoughts. You do not need to be “ready.” You just need to show up.

Even if today feels like a blur, even if you can barely focus, this journal can meet you where you are. You can treat each day like a small anchor. Something you do for your own heart, not for anyone else’s comfort.

Your First Step (Today’s Prompt)

Before you turn the page, take a moment for this first prompt. Keep it simple. No pressure, no perfection.

Today, write your child’s name.

If you can, include one sentence about what it feels like to say their name out loud. For example: “Saying it makes me ache” or “Saying it makes me feel close” or “I do not know what it makes me feel, but I needed to try.”

If writing feels too heavy, you can do a smaller version:

• Write their name once.

• Write it a second time if you want.

• Stop there. That is enough for today.

One More Important Note

In the early days, grief can sometimes feel like you are not just sad, but unsafe. If you find yourself having thoughts of harming yourself, or if you feel unable to cope in a way that scares you, please reach out for immediate help. You deserve support right now, not later. If you are in the United States, you can call or text 988. If you are elsewhere, tell me your country and I will help you find the right number.

You do not have to carry this alone.

Closing Thought

When the world changes overnight, you might feel like you are falling. You might feel like you have lost the map for your own life.

This journal is one way to rebuild that map, slowly. Not to erase what happened. Not to make the pain smaller than it is. But to give your love a place to land, day after day.

For now, take a breath. Write your child’s name. And then we will begin the next step together.

End of chapter one. 6 more chapters in the full book.