Book Review for I Carry You: From Unimaginable Loss to Rewritten Grief, Find the Life Waiting for You by Christina Stiverson
- Sarah Lansing
- Sep 30
- 4 min read
Updated: Oct 1
Content Warning: Child Loss
Grief memoirs are often saturated with sorrow, but few manage to transmute that sorrow into tangible hope quite like I Carry You. With brutal honesty, profound tenderness, and a quiet, unwavering strength, Christina Stiverson invites readers into the most sacred and harrowing moments of her life—the diagnosis, treatment, and eventual loss of her daughter, Addie—and her own transformation in the aftermath.
On a personal note: While I have not lost a child to cancer, I am the mother of a Hepatoblastoma survivor. I am not a bereaved mother, but I have grieved deeply in many ways—my child’s health, missed childhood experiences, the parenthood I thought I would have, etc. I identify with many of the stories told throughout these pages.
This book is not just for parents who have suffered the loss of a child, but also for those who have experienced any profound sense of grief.
What begins as an open-hearted “invitation” to walk alongside her story becomes in many ways a roadmap for anyone grappling with the unthinkable: how to keep living when the one you love most is gone. Christina does not merely recount her loss; she reclaims it—rewriting grief itself into a source of connection, purpose, and yes, even beauty.
A Love Story, Not a Tragedy
Though the subject matter is undeniably heavy—pediatric cancer, hospice care, post-traumatic grief—this is ultimately a story steeped more in love than in tragedy. At its core, this is not a story about death. It is about what survives it: the fierce, enduring bond between a mother and her child.
Christina’s prose is both lyrical and raw, echoing the duality of her experience. The juxtaposition of joy and devastation is particularly striking in chapters like The Gift of Moments and Life with the Windows Down, where small pleasures—a child’s laughter, a car ride, cotton candy—become acts of resistance against the finality of death. These are chapters where the family chooses moments over milestones. Joy itself becomes defiance.
Addie is written about with such vividness and vitality that readers will not be able to help but fall in love with her. I never personally had the pleasure of meeting Addie during her lifetime, yet after reading this book, I feel like I knew her.
The Evolution of a Mother
The journey Christina documents is not just one of caregiving and loss, but of personal evolution. Each chapter details a metamorphosis—from an elite athlete and military officer to a mother in crisis, to an advocate, and finally, to a grief coach and community builder. This evolution is not linear (as Christina reminds us, grief never is), but it is deliberate.
Especially compelling is her exploration of identity in the chapters Questions to the Universe and To Be Unbroken, where Christina reflects on spiritual crisis, invisible grief, and the aching question of “How many children do you have?” Her vulnerability here is unguarded and courageous. She does not tie grief into a neat bow; rather, she offers a realistic portrait of transformation—messy, incomplete, but fiercely meaningful.
One of the book’s most powerful elements is the R.E.W.R.I.T.E. framework introduced in the final chapters. These seven steps—Recover, Endure, Wonder, Reframe, Integrate, Transform, Evolve—are not presented as a cure or checklist, but as a compassionate companion to grief. They are gentle, practical, and most importantly, rooted in lived experience.
More Than One Perspective
Adding an additional layer of depth is the foreword written by Christina’s mother, Linda, and an epilogue by Christina’s husband, Cody. These sections broaden the narrative lens, illustrating how grief radiates outward through a family. Linda’s voice is especially moving—raw with maternal sorrow, confusion, and hope—as she shares the pain of watching her daughter suffer while also grieving the loss of her granddaughter.
Cody’s epilogue, told from the perspective of a fighter pilot turned grieving father, is another powerful contribution. His reflections on shame, helplessness, and finding new purpose in Addie’s legacy give the book emotional symmetry. Together, these additional voices emphasize the communal dimension of grief—how it fractures and binds families in equal measure.
A Call to Action and Connection
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of I Carry You is its refusal to end in despair. Even in its darkest moments—Addie’s seizure, the brain metastasis, her final breath—Christina extends a hand to the reader. Through her foundation (Addie’s Research), the free workbook (The Rewritten Pathway Reflection Guide), and her online community, she transforms her private pain into public healing- inviting the reader in, to take part in her story while opening a doorway of compassion for their own struggles.
This isn’t just a book to read; it’s a book to carry, to gift, to return to again and again. Christina’s story becomes a mirror for those lost in their own grief, and a map for those who dare to believe in life after loss.
Final Thoughts
In I Carry You, Christina achieves something rare and unforgettable: she makes space for the full spectrum of grief without ever asking the reader to bypass pain. She does not preach, prescribe, or promise closure. Instead, she shares her truth with unflinching grace, offering not a cure for grief, but a companion.
If you’ve lost a child, a partner, a parent—or simply lost yourself along the way—this book will find you. And when it does, it will whisper, “You are not alone. You can keep going. There is more.”
Because, as Christina shows us, grief is not the end of the story. Love is.
Written by Sarah Lansing
Full disclosure: I know Christina personally through our children’s shared diagnosis and now as a colleague. Proceeds from each book support Addie’s Research, which funds less toxic treatments for pediatric cancer. Please head to addiesresearch.org to learn more.
