Why I Write About Grief
Before we dive into this journey together, I want you to know where I’m coming from.
This blog is a tribute to our daughter, Mia Elizabeth. She’s the reason I carry the experience, the scars, and the purpose behind these words. Through losing her, I found my mission: to help others walk through the darkness of grief and not get lost in it. Thank you, Mia.
Becoming a father was a dream. The road there? Brutal. Years of trying naturally turned into frustration, dead-end medical advice, and uncertainty. It wasn’t until my partner, Saroeun, turned to acupuncture that we discovered something no fertility expert had caught — a twisted pelvis from a childhood accident. One adjustment changed everything.
Saroeun fell pregnant. No medical intervention. No lab coats. Just a miracle.
We prepared with joy and devotion — setting up the nursery, celebrating each milestone, and surrounding our baby with love even before she arrived. And then… the unimaginable.
At full term, Mia was born sleeping. No cry. No breath. Just silence.
At that moment, my whole world fractured. And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse — Saroeun nearly died from sepsis. Three weeks in hospital. Three days in ICU. Two under heavy sedation. I was preparing for fatherhood. Suddenly, I was preparing for double loss.
There’s no manual for that kind of pain. But I made it through — not as a hero, but as a man held up by community, love, and an unbreakable spirit.
That’s why I’m here. To share what I’ve learned. To remind grieving fathers (and anyone carrying deep loss): you’re not alone. There is a way through. And together, we’ll walk it.