How to Support Dads, Non-Birthing Parents, and Partners Through Loss
- Staff

- Aug 23, 2024
- 2 min read
Updated: Apr 10, 2025
Holding space for everyone in the family—including those who often go unseen
When a baby dies, the world often looks first to the mother. But others are grieving too.
Dads. Partners. Non-birthing parents. The ones who held her hand. The ones who had dreams, too. The ones who often carry their grief quietly.
This post is for them—and for the people who love them.
Because being unseen doesn’t mean they aren’t hurting. And holding it together doesn’t mean they’re okay.
Unseen Doesn’t Mean Unfelt
Partners often feel pressure to be “the strong one.” To make the calls. Book the cremation. Carry the weight.
But inside? They’re grieving too.
And when no one acknowledges their pain, they may begin to question:
Am I allowed to fall apart?
Was I really a parent?
Do I belong in this grief?
The answer is yes. Always, yes.
How Grief Might Show Up for Partners
Grief isn’t always loud.
For non-birthing parents, it may look like:
Returning to work quickly
Avoiding baby-related conversations
Irritability, distraction, or overworking
Disconnection from their partner
Silent heartbreak
This isn’t avoidance. It’s pain with no place to go.
What They May Need (But Not Ask For)
Permission to grieve in their own way
Reassurance they’re still parents
Gentle invitations to talk or be still
Moments of rest from being the “strong one”
Resources created with them in mind
And above all: To be remembered. To be included. To be seen.
How to Support the Partner You Love
You don’t need perfect words—just honest ones.
Try:
“You don’t have to be strong for me.”
“You’re grieving too, and that matters.”
“You’re still their parent.”
“I see how much you loved them.”
Let them show up raw. Let them fall apart.
That’s real love.
Let Them Be Parents, Too
They didn’t carry the baby—but they carried the dream.
Say the baby’s name
Invite them into rituals
Ask what they want to remember
Include them in anniversaries and sacred dates
Let their grief become part of their parenthood—not a reason to feel apart from it.
A Final Note
This is for the partner who held it together in the hospital, then cried in the car. Who stayed strong, then collapsed when no one was watching. Who felt forgotten, but never stopped remembering.
You are seen. You are grieving. And you are still a parent.




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