I just wanted to pass a link along to my readers!
I know that for me, reading other blogs has been very helpful in my journey, but it can be hard to find such blogs.
So, I'm super excited to find a great list of pregnancy loss blogs. Here is is:
http://www.stirrup-queens.com/a-whole-lot-of-blogging-brought-to-you-sorted-and-filed/loss-room/
www.stirrup-queens.com also has a blog list for other issues such as infertility, adoption, diagnostics and more. And her articles are great too!
Just wanted to pass along this great resource I recently stumbled upon.
Happy blog reading!
Showing posts with label help. Show all posts
Showing posts with label help. Show all posts
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Facebook revisited
Sometimes your message can get lost in your words.
I don't know if that's what happened with my post about Facebook -- but based on some of the comments I received -- I fear that that might be the case.
I've read over my note several times, and besides a few minor word choices, there's not much I would change. However, I do feel like a follow-up post is important.
First, I think it's important to clarify who I write for. I write for couples who have lost a baby or have struggled with infertility. I also write for others who are going through a loss of some kind and can relate to the grief I share. I also write to others who are looking for helpful ways to support those they know who are going through a pregnancy loss.
My message is intended for those particular men and women. If you find yourself reading my blog, but you haven't gone through a loss, or you aren't trying to support someone, you just might not understand my message. And that's OK. You're still welcome to read. But don't be surprised (and certainly don't judge me or my readers) if you don't find yourself in the same place.
You'll notice in my first post that I really just said two things:
1) For those who have recently suffered a loss, being on Facebook can feel like an emotional minefield.
Based on the feelings I've heard from other women, I know that this is not just my experience. But it is an experience shared by many of us women suffering through a loss. I simply want everyone to be aware that Facebook can be hard. I am not trying to place blame anywhere. Just know that what you post does affect other people.
It's like if you just lost a very dear grandma. If you constantly saw posts on your newsfeed saying . . . "Just hung out with my grandma, God has blessed me so much to have her in my life!" Or . . "My grandma is giving me such a hard time tonight. It's so hard to take care of her, and I'm just so tired!" Or "Just found out my grandma is going to live with us! I can't wait to spend every day loving on her!"
Each of those posts might hurt. Not because you hate grandmas. Or because you are angry at your friends. And not because those posts are wrong.
But they hurt because you are bruised and hurting. You have suffered a loss, and every reminder of that loss -- no matter how innocent it is in itself -- feels like someone has just pressed in on the bruise of your loss. And it makes your soul ache with longing and regret.
That is how I feel when I see pregnancy-related posts. I am not bitter or resent babies or others' joy. I am bruised and hurting. Whether the reminder comes from a Facebook post, or a baby commercial, or a Babies R' Us catalog in the mail -- that reminder hurts. Even if the reminder is not wrong in itself.
I do my best to navigate those reminders, and avoid as many as I can, because some days I'm just not ready to have someone or something press in on my bruise and cause me pain.
Which brings me to the second point I made on my note . . .
2) If you are pregnant and are going to announce a pregnancy, and you know someone who recently suffered a loss, please let them know privately before making a public announcement. This can really help someone who is struggling with loss to be emotionally prepared for your announcement and subsequent posts.
I was not asking every pregnant woman to go through a mental rolodex and think of every single person they might offend each time before they post. I was simply asking that ONE TIME, before you make your first announcement, to give a friend that you know is struggling with loss or infertility a heads-up. This will help them to navigate those painful reminders -- whether that means they unsubscribe to your posts for a time, choose not to look at their newsfeed, or whatever they need to do to protect their heart.
Vintage Farm Girl felt that the burden should fall on those of us struggling with loss to protect ourselves on Facebook. And in part, I believe that we do need to be responsible (which is why I've stopped checking my newsfeed most days.) But your private message can help us be responsible for guarding our emotions while on Facebook.
Because I am writing to those who consider themselves support people, I wanted to give them one more tool in their tool box of ways to support someone. So often people tell those of us going through a loss, "Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help."
Well, I am giving a suggestion of one thing you CAN do to help. And it DOES help.
I want to reiterate what (in bold) I was NOT asking people to do:
I'm not asking everyone to stop posting about their pregnancies. I'm not even trying to complain. And I'm not saying that your FB life should revolve around sensitive people like me.
A few of the comments I received were that I was "holding people hostage in my pain." That I could not recognize the joy of others because I did not have that particular joy. And that I was criticizing others for celebrating their blessings (amongst other things . . . ).
Let me address those criticisms for a moment.
A few weeks after our loss, my sister called to very sensitively let me know that she was expecting. If I could hold anyone up as an amazing example of how to be sensitive to others going through a loss, I would hold up my wonderful sister.
Did her announcement hurt? Terribly so. But it was not because I resented her. It was not because I resented her baby. It was not because I was a bitter woman who was holding my sister hostage.
It hurt because I had always wanted to be pregnant with my sister, and we would have only been a few weeks apart. It would have been wonderful to go through each stage of pregnancy, each milestone, together. I imagined being able to call each other as our babies learned to roll over, smile, talk and start to eat. We'd be able to compare notes on nursing, sleeping (or lack thereof) and all the adventures of being a mom the second time around.
But Olivia was dead. And even if I got pregnant right away (which I couldn't), it still wouldn't be the same.
Her announcement hurt because I couldn't be the one to simply cry with tears of joy as she had done for me. Please hear me say that if I could have only wept for tears of joy, I would have done it happily and with abandon. When we announced our pregnancy with Olivia, my sister was one of the few people that was simply so happy for me that she cried in the middle of wal-mart. Her excitement meant the WORLD to me. She had given me an amazing gift with my pregnancy that I could never give back, no matter how much I wanted to.
And trust me . . . I wanted to! Because she deserves it. Because I love her with all my heart. But I just couldn't. There was pain mixed in with my joy for her, and I couldn't sift that out no matter how hard I tried. Even Ryan couldn't understand that there was pain in her news for me. Part of what hurt was simply that there was pain where there should be none, and that I couldn't ignore that.
With her news, I realized that I would now have a very tangible reminder of Olivia. As her pregnancy progresses, she will reach milestones I never will. You can call me bitter if you want (but not on this blog) -- but the truth is she has what I do not. She announced her pregnancy on Facebook, I never got that chance. She will bless my parents with their next grandchild. I will not be able to do that with Olivia. As her child grows, I will see where my baby should have been at that age.
Her baby is a miracle. He is a blessing, and will be a wonderful addition to our family. I love my new nephew. But I also deeply miss my daughter. I miss my pregnancy. I am so very sad my sister and I will not be comparing belly pictures, pregnancy aches and pains, delivery stories, and our babies' milestones. I'm devastated that our babies will not know each other and be close cousins.
My grief is real. So is my joy for my sister. Both feelings live together in the same heart, sometimes like best friends and other times like fighting siblings. Sometimes the grief feels stronger. Other times joy wins out.
My pain for Olivia and my joy for my new nephew must coexist. There is no other way.
One last thing I wanted to share . . .
Last Sunday, I woke up feeling happy and content. This is unusual for me. I questioned it at first . . . then gave in to the wonder of waking up sandwiched between Maddy and Ryan watching the rays of sunlight filter through the curtains to announce a peaceful morning. I snuggled my family, and drank in the peace that was overtaking my heart in that moment.
During church, though, I had difficulty concentrating. I wanted to hear the message, but my heart and mind were fixed on what Olivia was doing in heaven. Was she happy? Does she look down on me? Does she know I love her? While we worship here, is she singing? Is she just a little baby . . . or is she big? I couldn't get my mind off of her all morning.
Lunch was fine. On my way home, I casually browsed through my Facebook newsfeed for a few minutes. Two friends had announced pregnancies.
I knew that it was April's Fool's Day. But my own sister had announced her very real pregnancy on Facebook on April's Fool's Day two years ago. I needed to give both of these friends the benefit of the doubt, because neither seemed to me like the type to joke about a pregnancy.
For a few hours that afternoon, I wrestled with my emotions. Besides the bruise I mentioned I feel earlier, I also knew I needed to be happy for these women. But I had pain, and it was hard to feel happy. I also had to prepare myself for seeing them with belllies, seeing posts about ultrasounds, and the like.
While I wrestled to have joy for these women, I was painfully aware that I had begun spotting the day before. We were trying to conceive this month, and I was hoping to be pregnant. I was terrified of having another ectopic as I had lots of pain earlier in the week from my fallopian tube. A late period + spotting + pain in my tube + a negative pregnancy test = the potential that I might have another ectopic.
Could I withstand another loss? If I didn't have a loss, then I was still not pregnant, which was disappointing, though not as devastating as an ectopic would be. Just dealing with the disappointment and fear surrounding my spotting would have been enough in the day to warrant a breakdown. But there was more . . .
Because it was a nice day, and because our memorial tree was finally ready, Ryan and I had decided to bury the tissue I had passed with Olivia and plant her tree. (Don't worry, I kept the tissue sanitarily.)
Before we went outside for our the burial, I checked Facebook one more time. It turns out that those pregnancy announcements were just April's Fool's jokes.
But it didn't feel funny to me. Not at all. I wrestled for hours that day to try to muster up happiness for my friends, on a very emotionally-charged day. And it was all for nothing.
It was then that I posted my note about Facebook.
I hope all this background info helps you understand my original post. And no matter how you first felt about my note, I do hope that it encourages you to still be sensitive and to know how to help your friends on Facebook struggling through loss.
And . . . if you've actually read this far, thank you. I think this has been my longest post to date. I appreciate you hanging in there with me while I hash through my intentions and background on what has been my most controversial post so far.
If you have gone through a loss, what other helpful things have your friends done to help you navigate the emotional minefield that we live in day-to-day?
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Perspective
I came across these words today on the comment section of a different blog.
Well, I guess if she knew me, she'd disapprove of just about everything I've done since we lost Olivia.
I left cryptic FB posts when I really wanted to share with everyone that we were pregnant, but that we might lose the baby. I wanted to beg for the prayers of those who love me so that together we could flood God's throne on behalf of my baby. But my husband and I weren't on the same page about how and when our news should be shared. So cryptic message it was.
I do spend hours thinking, talking and writing about Olivia. Whining? Well. I don't know. Maybe sometimes I whine.
Did I name my child, write a memorial post online, and occasionally turn the conversation back on to my loss when I talk with my friends. Yep.
Do I struggle at times to meet my daughter's every demand on a particularly difficult day? Guilty as charged.
The commenter above does not approve of my actions because she admittedly has "perspective."
But I have done all of these things for the exact same reason. I have perspective.
I've shared in previous posts about how we almost lost Madelyn during my pregnancy twice. Once to threatened miscarriage at 12 weeks. I had hemmorhaged, and after going to the ER, found out I had a 50/50 chance to keep her.
My whole family was prepared to lose her. And we were all very happily surprised when she clung to life.
I named her "Madelyn Jane" in part because of this experience.
Madelyn means "strong woman." She was one strong little girl to hold on even while my body made it so hard for her to do so! Jane means "believer in a gracious God." What a gracious God we serve to let me keep my little girl!
Often -- especially now that I've lost Olivia -- I look at her deep hazel eyes and think, "I almost missed this." I came this close to never knowing the feeling of her arms when she "squeezes the words out of me." I came this close to never snuggling with her in bed, her soft sweaty body squeezed as close to me as possible. I came this close to never hearing the sweetest words ever spoken: "You're my best friend, Mommy. I love you sooooooooooooo much."
I came this close to losing 3 years of precious, beautiful moments with my daughter. I came this close to losing a lifetime more.
And THAT is my perspective.
With Olivia, we too went to the ER early in my pregnancy. The doctor gave us hope. He said he would not give up on our baby. He wasn't willing to call it a miscarriage, or ectopic. He was choosing to believe our little one could make it.
The nurse who called to inform me my hcg numbers had risen also had hope. She hoped everything would be fine, and that our baby would live.
I had hope. Ryan had hope. Our families had hope.
We all had so much hope, and so much love for this little tiny creature we knew would be Maddy's best friend and our beloved child.
The morning we had the final blood draw, I had read in scripture that "With God, all things are possible." I clung to that hope and to the faith that God would do the impossible, and give us Olivia too.
But God's not that predictable. He was strong enough. Her life was possible. But for some reason, He chose to take her straight to heaven.
God had a purpose for Olivia's life. I don't like it and some days, I simply don't approve. But He had numbered her days. Her purpose was not to love on me and let me love on her. Her purpose was not to whisper sweet words, give big hugs, and bless us most amazingly with her adorable presence.
But she DID have a purpose.
And that's why I'm on this journey. That's why I blog, I write, I cry, I talk, I think, I post messages on FB and attend support groups.
Because I have the perspective of a women who almost lost a lifetime with a child . . . but didn't.
And I have the perspective of a woman who almost lost a lifetime with a child . . . and did.
Baby Olivia,
I'm missing you so much today. I hope you are having fun today playing at Jesus' feet. I hope you have become friends with some of my friends' babies. Let me tell you, their moms are amazing. I wish we all could have had playdates together here on earth.
Can't wait to meet you in heaven.
Until then . . . all my love.
Mommy
"I don’t like the fact that every little issue along life’s path, from miscarriages to spats with family, are glorified these days. Blogged about. FB statuses, galore. Sometimes, just for extra annoyingness, cryptic FB statuses. People spending hours whining about what used to be commonplace events.
I’ve had two miscarriages. I have two lovely, healthy girls.
Was I sad about my miscarriages? Yes, very much so. Did I name them, or write a memorial to post online, or turn the conversation back to myself every time anyone spoke about loss or bad luck? No. Because I have perspective.
I’ve had two miscarriages. I have two lovely, healthy girls.
Was I sad about my miscarriages? Yes, very much so. Did I name them, or write a memorial to post online, or turn the conversation back to myself every time anyone spoke about loss or bad luck? No. Because I have perspective.
And I’m counting my blessings. What I actually have more than makes up for the loss of a beautiful idea. And don’t even get me started on people who say they found it hard to care for existing children because of a miscarriage …. Talk about not seeing the forest for the trees."
Well, I guess if she knew me, she'd disapprove of just about everything I've done since we lost Olivia.
I left cryptic FB posts when I really wanted to share with everyone that we were pregnant, but that we might lose the baby. I wanted to beg for the prayers of those who love me so that together we could flood God's throne on behalf of my baby. But my husband and I weren't on the same page about how and when our news should be shared. So cryptic message it was.
I do spend hours thinking, talking and writing about Olivia. Whining? Well. I don't know. Maybe sometimes I whine.
Did I name my child, write a memorial post online, and occasionally turn the conversation back on to my loss when I talk with my friends. Yep.
Do I struggle at times to meet my daughter's every demand on a particularly difficult day? Guilty as charged.
The commenter above does not approve of my actions because she admittedly has "perspective."
But I have done all of these things for the exact same reason. I have perspective.
I've shared in previous posts about how we almost lost Madelyn during my pregnancy twice. Once to threatened miscarriage at 12 weeks. I had hemmorhaged, and after going to the ER, found out I had a 50/50 chance to keep her.
My whole family was prepared to lose her. And we were all very happily surprised when she clung to life.
I named her "Madelyn Jane" in part because of this experience.
Madelyn means "strong woman." She was one strong little girl to hold on even while my body made it so hard for her to do so! Jane means "believer in a gracious God." What a gracious God we serve to let me keep my little girl!
Often -- especially now that I've lost Olivia -- I look at her deep hazel eyes and think, "I almost missed this." I came this close to never knowing the feeling of her arms when she "squeezes the words out of me." I came this close to never snuggling with her in bed, her soft sweaty body squeezed as close to me as possible. I came this close to never hearing the sweetest words ever spoken: "You're my best friend, Mommy. I love you sooooooooooooo much."
I came this close to losing 3 years of precious, beautiful moments with my daughter. I came this close to losing a lifetime more.
And THAT is my perspective.
With Olivia, we too went to the ER early in my pregnancy. The doctor gave us hope. He said he would not give up on our baby. He wasn't willing to call it a miscarriage, or ectopic. He was choosing to believe our little one could make it.
The nurse who called to inform me my hcg numbers had risen also had hope. She hoped everything would be fine, and that our baby would live.
I had hope. Ryan had hope. Our families had hope.
We all had so much hope, and so much love for this little tiny creature we knew would be Maddy's best friend and our beloved child.
The morning we had the final blood draw, I had read in scripture that "With God, all things are possible." I clung to that hope and to the faith that God would do the impossible, and give us Olivia too.
But God's not that predictable. He was strong enough. Her life was possible. But for some reason, He chose to take her straight to heaven.
God had a purpose for Olivia's life. I don't like it and some days, I simply don't approve. But He had numbered her days. Her purpose was not to love on me and let me love on her. Her purpose was not to whisper sweet words, give big hugs, and bless us most amazingly with her adorable presence.
But she DID have a purpose.
And that's why I'm on this journey. That's why I blog, I write, I cry, I talk, I think, I post messages on FB and attend support groups.
Because I have the perspective of a women who almost lost a lifetime with a child . . . but didn't.
And I have the perspective of a woman who almost lost a lifetime with a child . . . and did.
Baby Olivia,
I'm missing you so much today. I hope you are having fun today playing at Jesus' feet. I hope you have become friends with some of my friends' babies. Let me tell you, their moms are amazing. I wish we all could have had playdates together here on earth.
Can't wait to meet you in heaven.
Until then . . . all my love.
Mommy
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Sweet gifts!
I have received a few very special, very thoughtful gifts in honor of our Baby Olivia.
Here are some of my favorites:
We received this kit containing an oak tree seedling to plant in honor of Baby Olivia, from my sister Sarah.
We've been faithfully taking care of it -- but we haven't seen any signs of growth until this week. More than two months of watering, and finally, new life sprouts!
This new sapling reminds me of my grief a bit -- weeks and weeks of feeling like there's not "progress" and feeling like you'll be stuck in a rut forever . . . only to have a little bit of hope burst forth unexpectedly.
Today I received this lovely necklace from a friend. It is PERFECT. I have wanted a necklace to remember Olivia by, but never found the right one. I love how tiny the footprint is because I imagine that's how tiny her feet might have been. I love that it's just a little bit longer than I normally wear my necklaces, so it falls close to my heart.
My friend Meredith sent me this book, and it came right when I was starting to get angry at God for losing our baby. It was perfect timing. I loved reading about how Jesus also heard God tell him "no." How he, too, knew the unspeakable grief and sorrow in separation and death. How he has also felt the loneliness in grief. This book helped open my eyes to a new side of Jesus and his Father that I hadn't really seen before. And it helped me trust my Savior, and love him, even more.
Last, another favorite gift of mine was the gift of time and hard work that my sister Judy gave me. (Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of this!)
A week after our surgery, she and her family "moved in" for a few days to take care of housework, laundry, cooking and planning Maddy's birthday party. Although I felt guilty watching her slave away at my house, it was so nice to have a clean home to recuperate in! Also, Maddy's birthday might have been a complete flop if it hadn't of been for her.
Thank you all, for the sweet, thoughtful gifts over the last 2 months!
Here are links in case you are wanting to purchase these gifts for yourself or a friend:
Tree: http://ww10.1800flowers.com/product.do?baseCode=4867&cm_cid=SEARCH#readmore
Necklace: http://www.etsy.com/listing/86335916/baby-foot-necklace-sterling-silver
Book: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_14?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=hearing+jesus+speak+into+your+sorrow+by+nancy+guthrie&sprefix=hearing+Jesus+%2Caps%2C196
Here are some of my favorites:
We received this kit containing an oak tree seedling to plant in honor of Baby Olivia, from my sister Sarah.
We've been faithfully taking care of it -- but we haven't seen any signs of growth until this week. More than two months of watering, and finally, new life sprouts!
This new sapling reminds me of my grief a bit -- weeks and weeks of feeling like there's not "progress" and feeling like you'll be stuck in a rut forever . . . only to have a little bit of hope burst forth unexpectedly.
Today I received this lovely necklace from a friend. It is PERFECT. I have wanted a necklace to remember Olivia by, but never found the right one. I love how tiny the footprint is because I imagine that's how tiny her feet might have been. I love that it's just a little bit longer than I normally wear my necklaces, so it falls close to my heart.
My friend Meredith sent me this book, and it came right when I was starting to get angry at God for losing our baby. It was perfect timing. I loved reading about how Jesus also heard God tell him "no." How he, too, knew the unspeakable grief and sorrow in separation and death. How he has also felt the loneliness in grief. This book helped open my eyes to a new side of Jesus and his Father that I hadn't really seen before. And it helped me trust my Savior, and love him, even more.
Last, another favorite gift of mine was the gift of time and hard work that my sister Judy gave me. (Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of this!)
A week after our surgery, she and her family "moved in" for a few days to take care of housework, laundry, cooking and planning Maddy's birthday party. Although I felt guilty watching her slave away at my house, it was so nice to have a clean home to recuperate in! Also, Maddy's birthday might have been a complete flop if it hadn't of been for her.
Thank you all, for the sweet, thoughtful gifts over the last 2 months!
Here are links in case you are wanting to purchase these gifts for yourself or a friend:
Tree: http://ww10.1800flowers.com/product.do?baseCode=4867&cm_cid=SEARCH#readmore
Necklace: http://www.etsy.com/listing/86335916/baby-foot-necklace-sterling-silver
Book: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_14?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=hearing+jesus+speak+into+your+sorrow+by+nancy+guthrie&sprefix=hearing+Jesus+%2Caps%2C196
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Helpful ways to support someone through a pregnancy loss
Today I heard about another woman who lost has lost her child at 38 weeks. Tonight, as the rest of the world moves on -- as life pulses around us -- this woman is living out her most devastating hours. The day of her baby's birth will also be the day of her beloved daughter's death. Life will never be the same.
I want to say that I cannot imagine such a loss. But the truth is -- I can. I just don't WANT to. To visit that pain, even for a bit, is so consuming.
If you find yourself as a support person in the midst of pregnancy loss, it can be so hard to know what to say or what to do. After all, there is NO FIXING the situation. Nothing we say or do will ever bring a baby back. While you can never FIX it, there are things you can still say and do to help.
I have asked a few friends that have experienced loss to expain what others did that gave them comfort or help. Here are a few of their answers:
I love my girlfriends' words! How true they are!
If you find yourself as a support person -- a loved one, family member, family friend, acquaintance, coworker or Facebook friend -- here are some other suggestions that might help you respond to your friend's loss in a comforting way:
Acknowledge the loss. Yes, a friend is grieving and we all want to give her space. But there are ways to reach out without intruding. You know your friend -- obviously the closer you are, the more you may want to reach out. But a great way to do that is through an email, card or text. Let them know you heard of their loss. You are praying for them. You are so very sorry. And you want to be there for her in anyway you can. Even though it is easier sometimes to love from afar, silence will often hurt. There is comfort in a tender note of condolence.
If you really don't know what to say, just say, "I really don't know what to say, other than I am so sorry." Usually, that alone is enough.
Offer physical help. After a loss, life still happens. Dishes still need to be done. Meals need to be made. Bathrooms need cleaning. Kids need loving on. If you are in the position to help with any of your friend's physical needs, it can be a very great help! Note of caution: Please do not say, "If you need anything, please let me know." The truth is -- she will most likely NEVER ask you for help, even if she desperately needs it.
One reason is because we women are notorious for having a hard time admitting we need help. She might think, "Well, I really need this ... but I would NEVER ask anyone to do this for me -- it's just too much."
But it's more likely that she has no idea what she really needs. Her entire world has been suspended in grief. With so much energy directed toward mourning, there is nothing left for the day-to-day. I remember wearing the same clothes over and over right after my loss because it was one less decision I would have to make. In late-term losses, couples have to make hard deicsions, like "Where to bury the baby" or "Who to invite to the memorial" or "How do I explain the loss of our baby to my children?" In light of such huge decisions, who even cares what's for dinner?
Helpful ways to offer tangible support are to say something like: "I would like to bring you dinner. Will Thursday or Friday be better for you? Are there any food allergies/preferences I should know about?" Or, "I would like to come for a few hours to clean. Will this Saturday work from 2-4? I would like to clean your floors and bathrooms -- unless there's something else you need more." "Can I take the kids for a few hours to love on them? Will Friday evening work?"
I didn't have to cook or grocery shop for a month after we lost Baby O. And I can't tell you how incredibly grateful I am for every single meal, every single cleaning job, every single ounce of help I received! I still have 2 frozen meals reserved for those really crappy days I know are still around the corner.
Give them a gift. Flowers are always appropriate. I received a lovely bunch of flowers the day after I thought I'd lost the baby with a darling teddy bear. What a precious reminder of my little one. I love that bear. My sister sent me an oak seed through (I believe) 1-800-FLOWERS that we can plant in rememberance of our baby. I also received the book, "Hearing Jesus Speak in Your Sorrow" by Nancy Guthrie. (I will list more helpful resources later.) I've heard other women really appreciate a gift of rememberance jewelry from a spouse or family member. If you know the sex of the baby, you can buy the baby something, too. From what I've read, most families treasure these gifts for years because they are something they can tangibly see and hold long after their baby is gone.
Listen. Let your friend "relive" her experience as many times as she needs to. Retelling the story is a huge part of processing grief. Cry with her. Just crying together has been some of the best "conversations" that I've head since we lost Baby O. If you sense your friend wants to talk, ask open-ended questions. Some helpful questions might be:
"Would you like to tell me about your baby? I would love to know her/him."
"Would you like to talk about the birth?"
"What's hardest on you right now?"
"What do you miss the most?"
"How is your husband doing?"
"Are there specific things that you need prayer for?"
"What do you need from me right now?"
Remember, silence is OK too. Sometimes just being there is the best.
Continue to check in on her. Maybe it's been a month or more since the loss. Chances are, your friend is still in the midst of deep grief. Continue to call, or text, or email -- however your relationship already rolls. She still needs to know that her friends are surrounding her with love and prayers. A card a few months later to let her know you are still grieving with her is so meaningful. Especially hurtful times will most likely be Mother's Day and Father's Day, Christmas, Thanksgiving, the anniversary of finding out she was pregnant, the anniversary of the baby's birth and/or passing, and her estimated due date.
Pray for her. Some ideas of things to pray for . . . Pray that God would guide her to Him during this time. Pray for her marriage, her partner and and their children. Pray for His peace and comfort. Pray that God would meet her physical needs. Pray for physical healing of her body. Pray that she would have the support she needs to grieve how she needs to.
If you have also lost a baby, you can let her know about your loss. She may ask to hear your story. Hearing that other people have dealt with loss and have (somehow) survived brings much hope. My support system from people who have "been there, done that" has been a lifesaver. Just a few reminders . . . Please don't compare your loss. Everyone's loss, and grief, are different, so just keep that in mind while you share.
Give your friend the freedom to grieve how she needs to -- no criticism, censorship or comparison. There is no timeline for grief. There is no right (or wrong) way to grieve. There are no wrong feelings in grief. If she is angry with God, let her express that without censoring her. If she is really struggling in an area, do not critcize her for it. A friend gave me the freedom to grieve how I needed, and that permission is just what I needed to encourage me to "publicly grieve" on this blog.
If she has named her baby, refer to her baby by name. It is so cathartic to hear your sweetie's name. It validates that your baby was a person -- and that you really had a loss.
While the potential to help is very real, the potential to hurt your friend while she is down is also real. A few things to avoid:
Answers. Please do not try to explain her loss. She might constantly be wondering "Why, God?" . . . but she doesn't need any of her friends or family to offer an answer. There is a reason she is asking God. If she does verbalize "Why???" in your presence, your best bet is to say, "I don't know. But I know it hurts so much."
Avoidance: Your friend is constantly thinking about the baby. Don't avoid the "big elephant" in the room. Ask her about her loss, her baby, her experience. At the very least, acknowledge her grief with an "I'm so sorry for your loss."
Platitudes. Steer clear of anything that sounds like a trite and easy answer. "All things work out for the good of those who love God." "God won't give you more than you can handle." "Maybe this is a blessing in disguise." "One day, this will all make sense." "You are young and can have more children." "Your baby is in heaven, now. Isn't that great that you will know him/her there?" "God needed another angel." Usually these only make the person offering platitudes feel better -- while making the grieving mom feel miserable.
Comparisons. Her exact situation is unique to her -- and only to her. Affirm her in her experience. But don't compare losses or grief.
Expectations. She will never be the person she was before the loss. It will change her forever. . . although the changes will become the "new normal" and time will help. Don't expect her to function at the level she was before. Don't expect her to carry extra responsibilities. Don't expect her to reciprocate your friendship in the same way you are loving on her -- it will take some time. She might start to seem better, then have really hard days. Just take her as she comes.
My experience losing Baby O could have been so much harder than it was if it weren't for the invaluable support from everywhere around me. From my husband, family and dearest friends -- to Facebook friends who I haven't talked to in years -- to Arbonne clients -- they have all played a huge role in my continued healing. I praise God for the support He has given me through His people.
If any of you who have "been there, done that" have anything you would like to add, please do. I know I haven't covered all of the bases and would love to hear from you.
If you find yourself as a support person, just know that you are never too far away or too close to love your friend through loss.
Much blessing and comfort to all!
Rachel
I want to say that I cannot imagine such a loss. But the truth is -- I can. I just don't WANT to. To visit that pain, even for a bit, is so consuming.
If you find yourself as a support person in the midst of pregnancy loss, it can be so hard to know what to say or what to do. After all, there is NO FIXING the situation. Nothing we say or do will ever bring a baby back. While you can never FIX it, there are things you can still say and do to help.
I have asked a few friends that have experienced loss to expain what others did that gave them comfort or help. Here are a few of their answers:
"It helped when people would talk about my daughter! Hearing her name was music to my ears. Also when people would forward me poems or songs that were about the loss of a child. Those helped a lot too. In its own way, sympathy was good too."
"Sharing their stories and sometimes just being there, not saying anything, and letting me talk through it. As well as prayer."
"I had friends who never pushed me to get back to 'normal.' They loved me with such grace, such patience through my anger, self-pity, questioning my faith, mood swings, jealousy, and the need to be self-absorbed in my quest for inner peace. They listened and listened and listened."
"Sharing their stories. It was nice to know that I wasn't alone and it also took my focus off myself (when I was dangerously close to a mire of self-destructive emotions)."
I love my girlfriends' words! How true they are!
If you find yourself as a support person -- a loved one, family member, family friend, acquaintance, coworker or Facebook friend -- here are some other suggestions that might help you respond to your friend's loss in a comforting way:
Acknowledge the loss. Yes, a friend is grieving and we all want to give her space. But there are ways to reach out without intruding. You know your friend -- obviously the closer you are, the more you may want to reach out. But a great way to do that is through an email, card or text. Let them know you heard of their loss. You are praying for them. You are so very sorry. And you want to be there for her in anyway you can. Even though it is easier sometimes to love from afar, silence will often hurt. There is comfort in a tender note of condolence.
If you really don't know what to say, just say, "I really don't know what to say, other than I am so sorry." Usually, that alone is enough.
Offer physical help. After a loss, life still happens. Dishes still need to be done. Meals need to be made. Bathrooms need cleaning. Kids need loving on. If you are in the position to help with any of your friend's physical needs, it can be a very great help! Note of caution: Please do not say, "If you need anything, please let me know." The truth is -- she will most likely NEVER ask you for help, even if she desperately needs it.
One reason is because we women are notorious for having a hard time admitting we need help. She might think, "Well, I really need this ... but I would NEVER ask anyone to do this for me -- it's just too much."
But it's more likely that she has no idea what she really needs. Her entire world has been suspended in grief. With so much energy directed toward mourning, there is nothing left for the day-to-day. I remember wearing the same clothes over and over right after my loss because it was one less decision I would have to make. In late-term losses, couples have to make hard deicsions, like "Where to bury the baby" or "Who to invite to the memorial" or "How do I explain the loss of our baby to my children?" In light of such huge decisions, who even cares what's for dinner?
Helpful ways to offer tangible support are to say something like: "I would like to bring you dinner. Will Thursday or Friday be better for you? Are there any food allergies/preferences I should know about?" Or, "I would like to come for a few hours to clean. Will this Saturday work from 2-4? I would like to clean your floors and bathrooms -- unless there's something else you need more." "Can I take the kids for a few hours to love on them? Will Friday evening work?"
I didn't have to cook or grocery shop for a month after we lost Baby O. And I can't tell you how incredibly grateful I am for every single meal, every single cleaning job, every single ounce of help I received! I still have 2 frozen meals reserved for those really crappy days I know are still around the corner.
Give them a gift. Flowers are always appropriate. I received a lovely bunch of flowers the day after I thought I'd lost the baby with a darling teddy bear. What a precious reminder of my little one. I love that bear. My sister sent me an oak seed through (I believe) 1-800-FLOWERS that we can plant in rememberance of our baby. I also received the book, "Hearing Jesus Speak in Your Sorrow" by Nancy Guthrie. (I will list more helpful resources later.) I've heard other women really appreciate a gift of rememberance jewelry from a spouse or family member. If you know the sex of the baby, you can buy the baby something, too. From what I've read, most families treasure these gifts for years because they are something they can tangibly see and hold long after their baby is gone.
Listen. Let your friend "relive" her experience as many times as she needs to. Retelling the story is a huge part of processing grief. Cry with her. Just crying together has been some of the best "conversations" that I've head since we lost Baby O. If you sense your friend wants to talk, ask open-ended questions. Some helpful questions might be:
"Would you like to tell me about your baby? I would love to know her/him."
"Would you like to talk about the birth?"
"What's hardest on you right now?"
"What do you miss the most?"
"How is your husband doing?"
"Are there specific things that you need prayer for?"
"What do you need from me right now?"
Remember, silence is OK too. Sometimes just being there is the best.
Continue to check in on her. Maybe it's been a month or more since the loss. Chances are, your friend is still in the midst of deep grief. Continue to call, or text, or email -- however your relationship already rolls. She still needs to know that her friends are surrounding her with love and prayers. A card a few months later to let her know you are still grieving with her is so meaningful. Especially hurtful times will most likely be Mother's Day and Father's Day, Christmas, Thanksgiving, the anniversary of finding out she was pregnant, the anniversary of the baby's birth and/or passing, and her estimated due date.
Pray for her. Some ideas of things to pray for . . . Pray that God would guide her to Him during this time. Pray for her marriage, her partner and and their children. Pray for His peace and comfort. Pray that God would meet her physical needs. Pray for physical healing of her body. Pray that she would have the support she needs to grieve how she needs to.
If you have also lost a baby, you can let her know about your loss. She may ask to hear your story. Hearing that other people have dealt with loss and have (somehow) survived brings much hope. My support system from people who have "been there, done that" has been a lifesaver. Just a few reminders . . . Please don't compare your loss. Everyone's loss, and grief, are different, so just keep that in mind while you share.
Give your friend the freedom to grieve how she needs to -- no criticism, censorship or comparison. There is no timeline for grief. There is no right (or wrong) way to grieve. There are no wrong feelings in grief. If she is angry with God, let her express that without censoring her. If she is really struggling in an area, do not critcize her for it. A friend gave me the freedom to grieve how I needed, and that permission is just what I needed to encourage me to "publicly grieve" on this blog.
If she has named her baby, refer to her baby by name. It is so cathartic to hear your sweetie's name. It validates that your baby was a person -- and that you really had a loss.
While the potential to help is very real, the potential to hurt your friend while she is down is also real. A few things to avoid:
Answers. Please do not try to explain her loss. She might constantly be wondering "Why, God?" . . . but she doesn't need any of her friends or family to offer an answer. There is a reason she is asking God. If she does verbalize "Why???" in your presence, your best bet is to say, "I don't know. But I know it hurts so much."
Avoidance: Your friend is constantly thinking about the baby. Don't avoid the "big elephant" in the room. Ask her about her loss, her baby, her experience. At the very least, acknowledge her grief with an "I'm so sorry for your loss."
Platitudes. Steer clear of anything that sounds like a trite and easy answer. "All things work out for the good of those who love God." "God won't give you more than you can handle." "Maybe this is a blessing in disguise." "One day, this will all make sense." "You are young and can have more children." "Your baby is in heaven, now. Isn't that great that you will know him/her there?" "God needed another angel." Usually these only make the person offering platitudes feel better -- while making the grieving mom feel miserable.
Comparisons. Her exact situation is unique to her -- and only to her. Affirm her in her experience. But don't compare losses or grief.
Expectations. She will never be the person she was before the loss. It will change her forever. . . although the changes will become the "new normal" and time will help. Don't expect her to function at the level she was before. Don't expect her to carry extra responsibilities. Don't expect her to reciprocate your friendship in the same way you are loving on her -- it will take some time. She might start to seem better, then have really hard days. Just take her as she comes.
My experience losing Baby O could have been so much harder than it was if it weren't for the invaluable support from everywhere around me. From my husband, family and dearest friends -- to Facebook friends who I haven't talked to in years -- to Arbonne clients -- they have all played a huge role in my continued healing. I praise God for the support He has given me through His people.
If any of you who have "been there, done that" have anything you would like to add, please do. I know I haven't covered all of the bases and would love to hear from you.
If you find yourself as a support person, just know that you are never too far away or too close to love your friend through loss.
Much blessing and comfort to all!
Rachel
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