Thursday, November 11, 2010

What I wish people knew...

So, I was cleaning out my favorites on my laptop and found this hidden way at the bottom.  I had forgotten I bookmarked it.  I found it very appropriate, especially after I returned to work.  People avoided me simply because they didn't know what to say.  Maybe this would have helped them...


"What we wish you knew about pregnancy loss:
A letter from women to their friends and family by Elizabeth Soutter Schwarzer
I assert no copyright for this material.  Please us it as you see fit to help women who have endured this terrible grief.  Thank you.

Date: Sat, 23 March 2002

When women experience the loss of a child, one of the first things they discover they have in common is a list of things they wish no one had ever said to them.  The lists tend to be remarkably similar.  The comments are rarely malicious-just misguided attempts to soothe.

This list was compile as a way of helping other people understand pregnancy loss.  While generated by mothers for mothers, it may also apply similarly to the fathers who have endured this loss.  When trying to help a woman who has lost a baby, the best rule of thumb is a matter of manners:  don't offer your personal opinion of her life, her choices, her prospects for children.  No woman is looking to poll her acquaintances for their opinions on why it happened or how she should cope.

-Don't say, "It's God's Will."  Even if we are members of the same congregation, unless you are a cleric and I am seeking your spiritual counseling, please don't presume to tell me what God wants for me.  Besides, many terrible things are God's Will, that doesn't make them any less terrible.

-Don't say, "It was for the best-there was probably something wrong with your baby."  The fact that something was wrong with the baby is what is making me so sad.  My poor baby never had a chance. Please don't try to comfort me by pointing that out.

-Don't say, "You can always have another one."  This baby was never disposable.  If I had been given the choice between loosing this child or stabbing my eye out with a fork, I would've said 'Wher's the fork?'  I would have died for this baby, just as you would die for your children.

-Don't say, "Be grateful for the children you have."  If your mother died in a terrible wreck and you grieved, would that make you less grateful to have your father?

-Don't say, "Thank God you lost the baby before you really loved it."  I loved my son or daughter.  Whether I lost the baby after two weeks or just after birth, I loved him or her.

-Don't say, "Isn't it time you got over this and moved on?"  It's not something I enjoy, being grief-stricken.  I wish it had never happened.  But it did and its part of me forever.  The grief will ease on its own timeline, not mine-or yours.

-Don't say, "I understand how you feel."  Unless you've lost a child, you really don't understand how I feel.  And, even if you have lost a child, everyone experiences grief differently.

-Don't tell me stories of your neighbor or cousin who had it worse.  The last thing I need to hear right now is that it is possible to have this happen six times, or that I could carry until 2 days before my due date and labor for 20 hours for a dead baby.  These stories frighten and horrify me and leave me up at night weeping in despair.  Even if they have a happy ending, do not share these stories with me.

-Don't pretend it didn't happen and don't change the subject when I bring it up.  If I say "Before the baby died..." or "when I was pregnant..." don't get scared.  If I'm talking about it, it means I want to.  Let me.  Pretending it didn't happen will only make me feel utterly alone.

-Don't say, "It's not your fault."  It may not have been my fault, but it was my responsibility and I failed.  The fact that I never stood a chance of succeeding only makes me feel worse.  This tiny little being depended on me to bring him safely into the world and I couldn't do it.  I was supposed to care for him for a lifetime, but I couldn't even give hm a childhood.  I am so angry at my body, you just can't imagine.

-DO say, "I am so sorry."  That's enough.  You don't need to be eloquent.  Say it and mean it and it will matter

-DO say, "You're going to be wonderful parents some day," or "You're wonderful parents and that baby was lucky to have you."  We both need to hear that.

-DO say, "I lit a candle today for your baby," or "I said a prayer today for your baby."

-DO send flowers or a kind note.  Every one I receive makes me feel as though my baby was loved.  Don't resent it if I don't respond.

-Don't call more than once and don't be angry if the machine is one and I don't return your call.  If we're close friends and I am not responding to your attempts to help me, please don't resent that, either.  Help me by not needing anything from me for a while.

If you're my boss or co-worker:
-Do recognize I have suffered a death in my family--not a medical condition.

-Do recognize that in addition to the physical effects I may experience, I'm going to be grieving for quite some time.  Please treat me as you would any person who has endured the tragic death of a loved one-I need time and space.

-DO understand if I do not attend baby showers/christening/birthday parties, etc.  And DON'T ask why I can't come.

-Please don't bring your baby or toddler into the workplace.  If your niece is pregnant, or your daughter just had a baby, please don't share that with me right now.  Its not that I can't be happy for anyone else, it's that every smiling, cooing baby, every glowing new mother makes me ache so deep in my heart I can barely stand it.  I may look okay to you but there's a good chance I'm still crying every day.  It may be weeks before I go a whole hour without thinking about it.  You'll know when I'm ready.  I'll be the one to say, "Did your daughter have her baby?" or, "How is that precious little boy of yours?  I haven't seen him around the office in a while."

-Above all, please remember this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.  The words miscarriage or still birth are small and easy.  But my baby's death is monolithic and awful.  It's going to take me a while to figure out how to live with it.  Bear with me please."


3 comments:

Missy said...

It's been over four months and I gave up having any real adult conversation with the majority of my co-workers. Until recently, and some people I never expected starting to say some really nice things. It feels good not to feel so isolated all the time. I hope some of yours eventually come around for you!

The Anglin Family said...

Im glad you posted this. At the hospital I was given a folder with cards to pass out to people who say those things. They have "the donts" of what to say but its hard to even respond to those hurtful comments. People at church have said all of those things to me, thinking they are saying the right thing. I appreciate people just saying they are sorry and are praying.
Thanks for sharing your story and I will keep you in my prayers.

AmanderMonster said...

I'm happy I found this post. I had a close friend fall pregnant a few months after my loss. She claimed to understand that I needed space but disowned me when I couldn't attend her baby shower.

 
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