Lesson 10 Grief: Change Is the Only Constant
Learning to bend—at work, at home, and in our hearts
“Change is situational. Transition, on the other hand, is psychological… the inner reorientation and self‑redefinition that you have to go through in order to incorporate any of those changes into your life.”
—Dr. William Bridges, Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes
When I launched Prepare To Bloom, it felt like my first child. As a one‑woman show, I could pivot overnight: refine a service, shift a process, meet each family exactly where they were. Over time I learned to love that elasticity; it rewarded curiosity and kept my work alive.
Then my first human baby arrived.
Enter Charli—a medically complex, joy‑soaked 18‑month‑old who has turned “change” from a business strategy into a daily master class. From sun‑up to sundown, our schedule is a kaleidoscope: therapists, new developmental leaps demanding fresh tools, and the beautiful (occasionally exasperating) reality of a toddler discovering her voice.
This week alone:
Two therapy sessions were canceled at the last minute.
I mistakenly showed up to an appointment that I’d never confirmed.
We advocated to let go of a new provider who wasn’t the right fit.
Our beloved nanny was promoted at her other job—leaving us with only one day of care each week.
And yet, woven through the whiplash is something extraordinary: Charli is learning to flex with life. Because our support circle—grandma, aunt, dad, nanny, and me—has space in it, she watches grown‑ups adapt, then practices adaptation herself.
That lesson echoes far beyond our house. I see it with every family I serve. Parents map out immaculate plans—therapies, schools, wraparound supports—only to have life lob a curve ball. Sometimes the instinct is to grip tighter. But real peace comes from holding grief in one hand and growth in the other.
The Hidden Face of Change: Grief
“Grief” isn’t reserved for death. It shows up any time reality veers from the story in our heads:
the rigid routine you thought would keep meltdowns at bay,
the school placement that suddenly closes its doors,
the orderly calendar torpedoed by a surprise hospital stay.
Letting go of “how it was supposed to be” hurts. Name that hurt. When we acknowledge grief, we clear room for creativity—exactly what hard seasons demand.
Turning Flux into Forward Motion
Five practical moves for parents (I use them daily)
Practice Micro‑Forecasting
Instead of locking a month in stone, plan one week at a time. On Sunday night we sketch our therapy grid in pencil, not ink. The shorter horizon calms my nervous system and limits the fallout when plans shift.Build a Two‑Deep Bench
List two backup options—people or places—for every critical role (nanny, PT, afternoon driver). Knowing who can step in means a cancellation triggers a phone call, not panic.Create a “Change Cushion”
Reserve one block per day (even 20 minutes) labeled Flex Time. That cushion absorbs spillover appointments or decompression after a tough session. When we skip it, everyone feels the squeeze.Debrief, Then Delete
After a plan collapses, debrief: What worked despite the chaos? What needs tweaking? Jot quick notes, then mentally hit delete. Lingering on “should‑haves” saps energy from the next pivot.Pair Loss with Gain
Teach kids (and yourself) to name something that’s lost and something that’s gained.“We’re sad Miss Maria can’t come on Tuesdays anymore—and now we get special grandma mornings.”
The brain records both truths, not just the sting.
Which of these feels like something you want to experiment with over the next 2-4 weeks? If you're willing to share, reply back - and I will always respond personally. Additionally, send me your tips and tricks so we can learn from each other on this journey of parenting.
Why This Matters in Therapeutic Planning
Families I counsel often chase the perfect lineup of services before sending a child to residential treatment, a gap‑year adventure, or a local support program. Perfection never arrives. Instead, I guide them to design adaptable ecosystems—supports that can bend without breaking. The goal isn’t to dodge grief but to weave it into the story: We expected one path; life revealed another; we grew anyway.
A Final Word to Fellow Parents (and the Pros Who Serve Them)
If life with your child feels like surfing a wave that never quite settles, you’re not alone. Give yourself permission to mourn the calm you imagined and celebrate the resilience you’re building in its place. Change will keep coming. So will growth, laughter, and hard‑won wisdom.
Join the Conversation
Email me at shayna@preparetobloom.com to share your stories, questions, or hard‑won hacks. Your experiences may inspire a future post and help other parents navigating the same beautiful chaos.
Together, let’s keep blooming through every twist and turn.