Crying While Parenting: A Mindful Approach

How can parents allow themselves to cry without introducing unhealthy levels of stress upon their children?

If you are new here, welcome to Dr. Amber_Writes. I am a clinical psychologist who writes weekly about mental health. I aim to bring you evidenced-based information, with a personal touch.

This week, I am sharing an essay that I was invited to write by

Victoria

who publishes The Carer Mentor. Victoria invited 13 substack writers to share their perspectives on the act of crying. The title of the collaboration is The Caring About Crying Anthology. We All Cry. You’re Not Alone.

Content Warning: In this essay, I talk about parent-loss and pet-loss. I also share candidly about my emotional experiences as a human who happens to also be a therapist. It is my opinion, shaped by my experiences, and intended to share insight into one way of approaching parenting through grief.

Photo by Daiga Ellaby on Unsplash

Our Year of Loss

As a child, I occasionally worried about the far-off day when I would lose my parents. At that young age, I did not realize that by the time I would lose a parent, I would have a family of my own. I would not just be a daughter; I would also be a mother. My parent; a grandparent to young grandchildren. For better or worse, I would not be grieving alone. 

When I lost my father, my children were 8 and almost 4. My youngest was the most open to the process of grief. She had not yet learned what most of us are taught, that grief is uncomfortable and best done in private.  

Unfortunately, my father’s death was book-ended by the death of our two senior dogs. One died a couple months before my father. The other developed a tumor in her mouth and died several months later. Hence, our year of loss.

My youngest was naturally nurturing towards me, and tears became her cue to check in. Whenever it looked like I may have been crying, she asked “Are you sad because Pappy died?” Even when my eyes were watering from something else, allergies or just adjusting to being awake, she checked on me. She brought me pictures that she drew of my father and our dogs, her version of a gift intended to soothe me. I marveled at her tenderness, but I also worried. It felt wrong that she was trying to care for me, and I wondered if it was a sign that my grief was causing her anxiety. 

When it was time to euthanize our second dog, we decided to say goodbye as a family. My first instinct was to protect my youngest from the experience, but after our year of loss, I decided that we could do this together. Was this the “right” approach? I did not know for sure. 

We sat in a circle in the vet’s office, the lights dimmed and a blanket spread on the floor. Penny, our dog, laid in my lap. We all comforted her as she passed. My tears flowed freely. My 4 -year-old only had questions. 

She wondered why she could not see the body “go to Heaven”. Why did we leave her body in the vet’s office? I clumsily tried to explain the difference between a physical body and a soul, while noticing an intense desire to escape to my bed and be alone with my sadness. 

It became clear that, of course, grief in a preschooler looks very different from grief in an adult. Experiencing death and loss was entirely new for her. Her reaction was more about curiosity and sense-making, with fewer displays of obvious sadness. 

“What happens to Penny’s body?” she asked. 

“It becomes dust,” I said. That would help explain the accumulating urns in our living room. 

I did not mind her questions, in fact, I welcomed the opportunity to help her with her own grieving. The problem was, these were not easy questions to answer, even under the best of circumstances. There is no manual for how to explain cremation to a preschooler.  It is challenging to be grieving while parenting. 

Sometimes her questions and ponderings presented a challenge for my son. At 8-years-old, he found her matter-of-fact statements and unseemly questions to be unkind. For example, when planning a hike to a local historical site, I said, “Your grandfather knew a lot about American history. He could have told us all about this place.” To which my daughter responded sincerely, “It’s too bad he already died.” She says the quiet part out loud. My son scoffed, unable to understand. 

He often told his sister, “Mom probably does not want to talk about that. It’s sad.”

I gently corrected him, “It is sad, but I like remembering and talking about our loved ones. It makes me happy to remember as well.” 

My son was more stoic in his grief. He rarely talked about it, but his emotions would bubble over in moments that I did not expect it. Like when we went to replace our old couch, and he broke down in tears. This was the couch on which he had spent countless hours snuggling with our dogs. He could not believe we would get rid of it. He insisted that we keep the cushions (now stacked in a corner, until he is ready to part with them).

What I can see now is how we all came to this year of shared grief with our own unique perspective and reactions. My shock and sadness were immense, coupled with all the nuances of grieving the loss of a parent. There was regret and sadness over the future we would not have together. I grappled with the limits around my own understanding of what happens after death. 

Then there were my reactions as a parent. How could I best help my children with their emotions? How would they respond to the emotions of the adults around them? I was tempted to think there was a right and wrong way to parent while grieving, and I really wanted to do it correctly.

My children responded with their own set of understandings and emotions, shaped by their age and stage of development and their past experiences. They were already absorbing cultural messages about the “right way” to show emotion.

In any one moment, all these layers of meaning were present. 

Is It Ok For Our Children To See Us Cry?

When I think about crying in front of my children, another memory floats to the surface. I recall when I was postpartum with my first child, when I was stressed to the max and exhausted. I would often call my mother while holding my son, and cry to her on the phone. I cried in front of my son all the time during those early months. Had I traumatized him with my tears?

As a psychologist, I was taught to be aware of anything that could damage a child’s attachment system, that powerful bond that develops between infants and their primary caregivers, and that becomes a template for how we manage relationships later in life. 

It’s true that children look to their parents for cues that they are safe and secure. They are evolutionarily designed to be highly attuned to a parent's emotions, facial expressions, and body language. Most parents have the experience of watching their child trip and hit the ground, only to immediately look back at their parent’s reaction. If the parent responds in a neutral way, oftentimes a child will bounce up quickly and go about their play. If mom or dad gasps and acts alarmed, the same child will wail in pain! 

I wanted my children to feel emotionally and physically secure, and wondered at what point my tears would threaten that sense of safety. If grief and tears are normal parts of the human experience, how can parents allow themselves to experience it genuinely without introducing unhealthy levels of stress upon their children? 

In my therapy office, I see a range of reactions to tears. Some people cry freely, and seemingly without any accompanying feelings of guilt or embarrassment. Others practice great restraint to avoid crying at all costs. It seems that almost everyone apologizes for crying, as if their emotional display is somehow a nuisance for me to witness. I believe that much of how we experience our own tears, and the tears of others, has to do with how our parents responded to us when we cried as children. I also imagine that we learn how to deal with tears by watching how our parents dealt with that same emotional reaction in themselves. I know that this is the case, because adults in therapy share how these early childhood experiences shaped their current comfort with crying and showing emotion. 

During my family’s year of loss, it felt important to embrace opportunities for us to experience our grief together. When a beloved family member dies, and all the adults cry only behind closed doors, what is communicated to children about their own feelings of sadness and how they should handle it? What better way to model for our children that grief is normal and safe, than to allow them to see us experience it out loud?

It seemed that I was teaching my children something about crying, sadness and grief if and when I cried, but also when I did not. 

I decided that each time I cried in front of my children, it was a chance to communicate that crying is safe for both me and for them. I told them that it is important to cry when we feel the need. 

I particularly wanted to communicate that I did not want to avoid talking about sad things that might trigger tears, especially when it came to remembering and talking about our lost loved ones. Sure, I might cry, but that is just a part of the remembering. They come hand and hand. I would never want to sacrifice our memories, just to avoid the discomfort of crying. 

Additionally, I saw how sharing my feelings activated empathy in my children. It gave them the opportunity to notice and care about the feelings of another person, to practice sitting with that and learning how to respond. I hope that they will carry this with them into future relationships and be the type of friends and partners who can bear witness to the sadness of others. Of course, I also hope they are learning to have compassion towards their own emotional experiences as well. 

All this is not to say that we never need to protect our children from our adult emotional experiences. It’s a dialectic: It is important to model crying for our children AND crying in front of our children can be distressing for them. If I could do it over, I would have liked to have cried less in front of my infant son in those early months of postpartum. It is wise for a parent to take space from their children when they are struggling to manage their emotional responses in a safe and adaptive way. If you feel out of control with an emotion, take some space alone or with a trusted adult until you feel grounded again. 

But it is important to be clear that tears in and of themselves are not an out- of -control emotional reaction. The fact that so many adults feel “out of control” when they cry suggests that this is what they were taught, overtly or covertly, as children. The fact that so many of us feel that we “should” not cry in front of our children is likely a reflection of our societal discomfort with crying in general, and grief especially. We’ve internalized the message that crying is problematic, either it communicates something negative about ourselves or is burdensome to others. When we try to protect our children from this natural display of emotion, we are perpetuating these myths for the next generation.

A Mindful Approach to Crying While Parenting

I know that I am not alone in my worries about crying while parenting. Parents in my office frequently worry about the lasting impact of certain experiences on their children. They wonder if their children will be traumatized if they respond the wrong way or make the wrong parenting decision. No parent wants to cause their children undue stress. We don’t want our “stuff” to become their “stuff.”

I always remind parents that rarely is an experience inherently traumatic. What results in feelings of traumatization is being left alone to make sense of an experience that is overwhelmingly frightening and confusing. We can not protect our children from every painful and uncomfortable experience, nor should we. However, we can always be there to help them with the thoughts and feelings that arise, to answer questions and provide solutions, and help them create a factual narrative about what has occurred. 

Similarly, we can help our children make sense of what is happening when they see their parents experiencing painful emotions. When we are calm enough, we can check in with our kids and ask them how they feel about what they witnessed. We can use developmentally appropriate language to explain what we are feeling.

Ultimately, my approach to tears has become less about “should I or should I not?” or “how much is too much?” Instead, I try to be mindful of the feelings that are arising in me and allow them to be there. I try to be equally as mindful of what is arising for my children. I make space for their questions, emotions, and behaviors. I approach them with curiosity, not judgment. I welcome conversation where we all get to share, and notice how our responses impact one another.

I realized that this approach is grounded in mindfulness¹. 

The core tenants of mindfulness are:

• Be present in the current moment, allowing whatever thoughts and feelings arise

• Respond to those internal experiences non-judgmentally

This approach allows me to more effectively hold my own reactions and my children’s reactions at the same time. It redirects the focus from parenting the “right way” in a moment of high emotion, a goal that is stressful and distracting, to simply being present with my kids.

To use mindfulness skills when tears arise in front of our children, we can ask ourselves:

• What is triggering my tears right now, and how intense is my emotion?

• What might my tears bring up for my kids in this moment, given the context? For example, are we on the sidelines of their soccer game or at home around the dinner table?

• Given my level of emotion right now, what do I need?

• Given my level of emotion right now, can I stay attuned and present to the reactions of my children?

If the answer to that last question is “no”, then that is a sign to take space from our children and allow ourselves to work through that emotion by ourselves or with someone from our support system.

Conclusion

One day, about a year after my father died, I was looking through some pictures and found one that again brought tears to my eyes. I showed my children the picture and shared more about the memory. My daughter noticed my tears and said matter-of-factly, “I'm tired of you crying about people that are already in Heaven. I'm done with it!”

My eyes widened with shock and I had to stifle a laugh. It was the first time that she had been anything other than gentle with my tears. Admittedly, her tone was the same one that my husband and I use when we are fed up with her begging and whining for a toy at the store. It was a tone that said “enough already!”

It did not hurt my feelings. I knew she was trying on a different way of responding, one that probably did reflect her own feelings of frustration or boredom. A response that she had witnessed in her parents, in other contexts. I let her know that I understood. She preferred that my tears not be the focus in this moment. I was grateful that, despite all the noise of my own emotions, I could hear her. 

What do you think about my mindful approach to crying as a parent?

What are your experiences with grieving or crying while parenting?

I would love to continue the conversation in the comments! And if you are interested, please check out all the other perspectives on crying shared by the members of the Caring About Crying team:

The Caring About Crying Anthology Logo

The Caring About Crying Anthology. We All Cry. You’re Not Alone.

1. Sept 1 Launch article: Caring About Crying. We All Cry. You’re Not Alone By Victoria at Carer Mentor: Empathy and Inspiration

2. Sept 2 Crying: 'Did you know?' Resource: Tears the science and some art. By Victoria at Carer Mentor: Empathy and Inspiration

3. Sept 3 'Cry, Baby. Why Our Tears Matter' A Podcast Interview. Dan Harris and Dr Bianca Harris of Ten Percent Happier with Reverend Benjamin Perry. By Victoria at Carer Mentor: Empathy and Inspiration

4. Sept 4 ‘In Conversation with Rev. Benjamin Perry’. Victoria interviews the Author of 'Cry Baby: Why Our Tears Matter' By Victoria at Carer Mentor: Empathy and Inspiration

5. Sept 5 ‘My stoic mom's parting gift. Making peace with tears’ By

   Sarah Coomber at Sandwich Season

6. Sept 6 We Invite You to 'Care About Crying'. By Victoria on behalf of the team.

7. Sept 6 ‘ICU Special Edition: There's Crying in Baseball?’ By Nurse Kristin at HCT: Heal Cure Treat

8. Sept 7 Triggered. Caring About Crying Anthology By

   Kristina Adams Waldorf, MD at After He Said Cancer and Anne

   at The Future Widow

9. Sept 8 'Can't Cry. Want to Cry??' A Caregiver's Paradox of Human-ing. By Victoria at Carer Mentor: Empathy and Inspiration

10. Sept 9 AWC Town Bulletin - On Crying A Discussion Thread

    Tiffany Chu, bakhtawar

11. Sept 10 The Healing Power of Tears. How giving myself the permission to cry a good cry helped me process unspeakable pain and lifted me out of deep depression. By Louisa Wah at Lily Pond

12. Sept 11 My Tears are not a Grief Gauge. Crying through Ages and Stages By Anna De La Cruz at Gen Xandwich.

13. Sept 13 Sweet Relief. After He Said Cancer | A Memoir By

    Kristina Adams Waldorf, MD at After He Said Cancer

14. Sept 15 When was the last time you cried in public? by

    Mariah Friend
    at Heartbeats

15. Sept 16 Crying While Parenting: A Mindful Approach by Amber Groomes at Dr. Amber_Writes.

Next up in the series:

Louisa Wah

Disclosure: Dr. Amber_Writes is a newsletter designed to be informational, entertaining, and engaging. It is not therapy. Following this newsletter does not establish a therapeutic relationship with me. Dr. Amber_Writes, and other written communication by Amber Groomes on Substack, is not a substitute for treatment, diagnosis, or consultation with a licensed mental health professional. I assume no liability for any action taken in reliance on my writing here at Dr. Amber_Writes.

1. Definition of Mindfulness from the American Psychological Association.