I'm learning so much all the time, thanks to you. This past month, the learning seems to be centered around strength and grieving. I'll be covering strength in other posts.. For now, though, I wanted to write to you about grieving.
It's different for everyone: grieving, loss, pain. And as a result, one would think that what to say or not to say to a grieving person is going to be different for everyone.
As I've become more acquainted with grieving, though, I now believe this is not the case.
I also now think that we need to bring grief out from under a cloud of doom. Grief is a part of life, a healthy part of a good relationship and a way to express our affection for others. Why should grief be clouded in shame or silence?
I don't think it should. So, I've done a little research and come up with three lists (yay! lists!)
List 1: What NOT to say (note: none of these things were said to me) when someone says, "I've had a miscarriage."
- Well, no matter what, the sun will come up tomorrow and life will go on, right?
- It wasn't really a baby, you know.
- God doesn't put the soul in until later.
- Good thing you have at least a few more eggs in there, huh?
- You should just be happy that you have a next-door neighbor who has kids, so you can babysit theirs and they can have a break (insert 'friend', or 'sibling', or 'cousin' here - variations on this one abound)
- __ suffered from infertility, too, and never had kids. Look how happy she is!
- Oh yeah, I have loads of friends that have had miscarriages. Trust me, it's no big deal.
- Now you can have your life back - just think, pregnancy and kids are a big responsibility!
And on the flip side, a very good friend of mine told me that she had no idea what to say to me when I told her. Totally understandable. A few years ago, I probably would not have known what to say either. And unfortunately, I've recently struggled with folks who just avoided me altogether because they didn't know what to do or say. As I mentioned above, I did some 'testing' and asked around about what people wanted to hear when they were grieving. This is the list I got back:
List 2: What TO say to a grieving person:
- I'm so sorry for your loss.
- This must hurt so much.
- I will miss him/her too.
- It sounds like he/she was very loved.
- Would it help you more if I talk about him/her and missing them? Or would it be better to distract you?
- What are you struggling with?
- How can I help?
- I don't know what to say, but I wanted you to know that I care about you and I'm sad this happened to you.
Surprisingly, this list was very universal across all losses and all walks of life. I identified with every statement on this list and heard these things from loving, empathetic family members.
Another universal response - people who'd lost someone close to them were surprised by how quickly after the loss everyone seemed to avoid the topic of the loss. Without asking or checking, friends just stopped talking about it. In fact, one sweet friend told me "I began calling myself the laughter killer. I could walk into a room full of people laughing over some joke, they'd see me, and the laughter would almost immediately cease, but no one would say or talk about why." So sometimes, it wasn't about what was said, but about the timing - while mourners will hear condolences thousands of times in the first few days, an average of seven short days after the loss, friends of mourners would avoid asking about or discussing the loss any further. This was jarring for my grieving friends. They didn't know what to say to get a discussion started, either - talk about a catch 22!
Having also been the person who did not know what to do or say when a friend was grieving a death, I empathize with both sides. It's awkward for both sides and I say, it's time we fight this unhealthy response.
So, I think it's time for that third list - this is a list of things my friends did and said after my recent losses that I'm humbled and grateful for.
List 3: Grateful For... (otherwise entitled: How to Fight Unhealthy Responses to Grief)
- The dear, dear friend that showed up at our door the day after I miscarried to bring us a small flower memorial (it had a butterfly on it! I love butterflies!) and give me a hug and laugh with me over silly things. (I still have the butterfly.)
- The friend that said 'You seemed panicked. What can I do to help?'
- The friend that helped me analytically evaluate the details of my particular medical condition.
- The friend that shared another woman's story with me and shared how she coped.
- The friend that told me her mother said "When you're delivering a child, you have contractions and pain, whether it's a miscarriage or a birth."
- The friend that said "I felt that too when I miscarried."
- The friend that said "It's OK to tell them you don't want to take the methatrexate."
- The friend that offered to get pregnant and carry a child for us. And really meant it.
- The friend that told other friends, when we just couldn't.
- The many friends that didn't shame us for not talking about it. The many friends that didn't shame us FOR talking about it.
- The friend that wanted to know if it would be alright if she just let me hold her baby.
- The friend who said "Of course you're going to cry when you hold a baby, and it's totally OK to do just that!"
- The friend that sent me a text on Memorial Day to say "Thinking of your Dad and Tiny"
- The many friends that gave an hour of worry-free time
- The friend that said "This little angel was given to me by another woman when she miscarried. It comforted me a lot, and I'm passing it on to you thinking that it will comfort you and you can one day pass it along, too, if you'd like."
I cannot say how I got so lucky. I can only say how humbled and grateful I am for friends who try so hard to understand and show affection, despite my own failings in helping them through their grief. Examples and inspiration abound, dear Zuzu, and I can hardly wait to introduce you to these incredible people.
Love,
Mommy
