Creating a Life Bigger Than Grief After Child Loss with Melissa Hull

When Melissa Hull lost her son Drew in a tragic accident, her world shattered. Like many grieving mothers, she was overwhelmed with guilt, shame, and the heavy belief that she no longer deserved happiness. In her words, it felt like she had been disqualified from joy. But Melissa's story didn't end there.

The Day Everything Changed

Melissa was a tired young mom, doing her best with two little boys while her husband was away on a work trip. After a sleepless night caring for her sick toddler, she fell asleep for just a short while. When she woke up, Drew was gone. Hours later, they found that he had wandered into a nearby irrigation canal. He had drowned.

Melissa was crushed by guilt. She felt responsible. Family members asked hard questions. She began to believe she had failed as a mother. Her marriage unraveled. She couldn’t see a way forward.

A Letter That Changed Everything

At her lowest point, Melissa found a letter addressed simply to "The Mother of Drew Gallimore." Inside, a stranger named Theresa shared her own story of losing a child in a similar accident. Her words were clear: you are a good mother. You were a good mother the day before, and you were a good mother the day of the accident. That letter became a lifeline.

Theresa didn’t offer false promises. She didn’t try to fix Melissa's pain. She simply shared her truth: that peace was possible, and that it would take intention and time. For the first time, Melissa felt seen. She began to believe that joy might still be waiting for her too.

Sitting With the Pain to Find Peace

Melissa's grief didn’t vanish. She faced infertility, multiple pregnancy losses, and the trauma of losing another son, Peter, at 22 weeks. Her journey was not linear. But she kept coming back to that one idea—that she could still be a loving mother and have a meaningful life.

Through journaling, writing letters to her children, and practicing small rituals of connection, Melissa started to see herself with more compassion. She didn’t have to stay stuck in guilt. She began to challenge the narrative that joy meant betrayal. Instead, she learned how to carry Drew and Peter with her as she rebuilt her life.

Creating a Life Bigger Than Grief

Melissa went on to become a water safety educator, author, and grief coach. She remarried, raised her children, and became a guide for others facing the unimaginable. Her book, Dear Drew: Creating a Life Bigger Than Grief, shares her story and the practices that helped her rebuild.

She discovered that healing isn't about forgetting—it's about creating space for both joy and sorrow to live side by side. She realized her pain didn’t mean she failed. It meant she loved deeply.

What You Can Take from Melissa’s Story

If you are in a place where it feels like your pain will never ease, here are a few reminders Melissa would offer you:

• Grief is not a punishment. It can become your teacher.

• You can still be a good mother, even if guilt tells you otherwise.

• Healing doesn’t mean letting go of your child. It means carrying them differently.

• Joy doesn’t replace your grief. It can live beside it.

Gentle Next Steps You Can Take

• Write a letter to your baby or child. Say what you need to say. Let it be messy.

• Start a small ritual of connection each day. Light a candle. Look at a picture. Say their name out loud.

• Challenge your inner critic. Ask, "What if I was a loving mother that day? What would I believe instead?"

• Speak with someone who understands. Whether it's a coach, friend, or community, connection helps.

Melissa's story is a powerful reminder that there is life beyond the worst moments. Not a life that forgets, but one that remembers with love. One that chooses to believe that grief doesn't mean your story is over.

Follow Melissa on Instagram at @melissa_hull_

Visit her website at: melissahull.com

Dear Drew: Creating a Life Bigger Than Grief

You are not broken. You are grieving. And with time, space, and support, it is possible to create a life that is still beautiful—one that holds both your child and your future.