Yesterday I introduced you to three people whom I love dearly who allowed me to interview them on the topics of miscarriage, pregnancy loss and infant loss. Today they are going to help us understand some DO’s and DO NOT’s when it comes to supporting a loved one through this trial.
During this time of loss, what did loved ones do to support you?
Brooke
In a physical sense, my Dad carried me to bed and gave me a Priesthood blessing which is the best support anyone can receive. My sweet husband was thousands of miles away in Ukraine, but he wrote to me almost hourly and called on Skype as often as I felt well enough to talk. My little brother and sisters who live at home were so gentle and sweet to me. What I loved was that they weren’t afraid to talk to me about it. Each of them came to me separately, at different times, and told me that they loved me and were so sorry. They had heard my screams during the final moments of the miscarriage, and instead of shying away from me and feeling shame or embarrassment, they completely embraced me. Other family members and friends sent emails and text messages, all of which I loved. I felt like the love that everyone was sending was helping to fill in the hole inside of me.
Kim
Lots of meals brought in. I asked for lots of help. I was recovering from a serious blow physically and emotionally. I called my bishop and Relief Society president. Had I not been a member of any church I would have called my friends and neighbors. They brought meals, cleaned, sent cards and flowers. One of my good friends gave me a statue of a mother holding a baby which I cherish, another friend brought me a teddy bear that I still sleep with sometimes to this day. We call it ‘peanut bear’ because that is what the nickname of the baby was…”peanut”. Those are small tokens but when times are hard we hold them dear.
Laura
Most people were kind and supportive, even if they didn’t say or do the right things. My mom flew out at a moment’s notice and stayed to help me recuperate after surgery. Friends provided meals when I got back from the hospital. Lots of people, including strangers, contacted me to express their condolences. Others sent gifts or offered to watch my daughter. People were very worried about me, and I could tell they wanted so badly to comfort me, even if they had no idea how to do it. I tried my best to focus on their intentions and not over-analyze their words.
What do you wish people had done to support you? What would have been helpful?
Brooke
Kim
Loved me. (Most people did.) Never minimize the loss. Especially for me when I was struggling with my faith in that regard, if someone would have said, “It was for the best.” I would have smacked them…and people did say that virtually. It was not okay. To me, it was a life, my life…part of me. I saw it moving, it’s heart was beating and for me, in that instant there was a life. I miss that life. I miss those 17 weeks I spend sick and tired and fat. I do not want that minimized. What would have been helpful? More ice cream…more shoulders to cry on. More hugs, more understanding. More bathroom scrubs. More babysitters for me time.
Laura
I felt like people fell into two camps: Those who pretended like nothing happened because they didn’t want me to feel upset or awkward, and those who persistently asked questions about my emotional state. Depending on the day, I loved or hated either group. Is that fair? No, but neither is infant loss. Knowing I was expecting the impossible (a perfect response to my exact sentiments on a given day), I tried to be understanding of others. The best response was when people just let me know they were there to talk when I felt up to it. Also, it was important to me that they still include me in regular activities and conversation. And while this may sound shallow, gifts are always great. They’re a tangible way of saying that you care and can provide distraction. (I highly recommend books, magazines and food for that reason.) For those with existing children, the gift of a few hours alone is also priceless. I often wanted a weekend by myself just to process things, but with a toddler, that was impossible.
What are some DEFINITE no-no’s that friends and family should avoid saying or doing? Can you explain why those things are hurtful?
Brooke
- Telling me why I miscarried as in: you were too stressed out, you shouldn’t have been so active, you need to just relax and take a vacation, maybe this is the Lord telling you to stop trying for a while, maybe you need to learn patience, etc. This is hurtful because most of the suggestions either imply that I did something wrong or that my miscarriage was caused by my spiritual immaturity. My doctor is far more qualified than anyone else to tell me why this has happened.
- Cracking jokes about it. This just makes me sick. It’s only happened once and it broke my heart.
- When someone else you’re close to finds out they’re pregnant or something like that in the midst of your miscarriage, it is really hard to separate their good pregnancy from your bad one. A HUGE don’t is: Do not get angry or upset if the person that has just miscarried isn’t acting excited about the other one’s pregnancy. Just know that they’re doing their best and that all they need is love and patience.
Kim
- “It was for the best.”
- “There was probably something wrong with the baby anyway.”
- “You can have another baby.”
- “You already have another child, can’t you just be thankful for that blessing.”
Well, for one, no one can really know what went wrong. Was it something that I did, did not do? Is there something wrong with me physically that is harming the baby? No one knows that answer, and you may never know. I don’t care if there was something wrong with the baby…that was may baby that I loved and hoped for and adored…don’t minimize that. That is like saying to someone who wears glasses, “You didn’t need your left eye…there was something wrong with it anyway.” No one knows, and especially in my circumstance that there will be another baby. To this day I still feel like someone is missing from my life, from my heart, from my soul. Even with my faith, I am LDS…I am still uncertain. I still don’t always feel I will get to see my baby again. Is that awful? I think that comes from everyone and their opinion…sometimes you just have to keep your opinions to yourself and just say, “That sucks. I am so so so sorry for your loss.” Because that is all you can say. The thing that infuriates me the most is when people say, “Why don’t you appreciate the children you already have?” Because…straight up, I had a dream. My dream was four beautiful children. That is a dream that will probably never come to reality. It is a great loss to my heart and soul. Besides, a statement like that is saying that in some way I am not grateful for my children, which could not be further from the absolute truth.
Laura
As I mentioned, people are generally well-intentioned and don’t mean to hurt you. They are at a loss for what to say and often make something up just to feel like they’ve tried. However, it’s better to admit that you don’t know what to say than to say something that could be offensive.
Here are some other pointers:
- Don’t judge grief – Everyone situation is unique and everyone will grieve differently, so it’s best that you just share your love for that person. Do not applaud them for “being strong” because that person may become afraid to open up on bad days for fear letting you down. It also perpetuates the idea that those who struggle after tragedy are weaker than those who appear to recover quickly. Odds are everyone is hurting inside, but not everyone is comfortable exposing their pain publicly.
- Don’t hypothesize – Do not try to make sense of their loss. Don’t tell them it was meant to be. Don’t tell them that it was a fluke. Don’t tell them it was because of something they did or didn’t do. Let the parents come to their own conclusions, medically and spiritually. When you hypothesize, you are minimizing their loss.
- Don’t rank tragedy – Every loss is a loss, whether it was days after a positive pregnancy test or moments after delivery. Most consider each additional week of pregnancy lost a bigger tragedy, but that’s not necessarily so. In my experience, a woman who discovers she is pregnant instantly loves her unborn child and creates a mental future for them. Losing that dream is devastating at any stage. Some struggle more with early miscarriage than stillbirth, and vice versa. It just depends, so refrain from assumptions.
- Don’t compare – Comforting someone should not include any one-uppers. That means you should tell them about a friend who had it worse. That means you don’t compare an experience you had with the death of a grandparent or another life obstacle. You don’t make people feel better by emphasizing the positive. You make them feel misunderstood, marginalized and weak.
- Do use the right words – Medically, a miscarriage is when a pregnancy ends before 20 weeks. However, I don’t feel like I miscarried Zella. After all, we held her, named her—we even blessed her per our religious tradition. I prefer to call it pregnancy loss or infant loss. Carefully listen to find out what someone prefers. Do they refer to the baby by name? Do they include the baby in their family head count? Was it a miscarriage, genetic disorder or stillbirth? Know the facts and try to remember them. I love it when friends refer to Zella by name because it makes her feel more real. And I’m touched that my extended family knows her birthday and counts her among the family, even though I generally don’t include her in our head count. (Mostly because it just gets confusing. Although I do remind my kids that Zella never talks back to me.)
- Do remember – I was shocked by how many people, including close friends, forgot about our experience within weeks of it happening. They’d ask questions like, “When are you going to try for another one?” Or say things like, “You sure spaced them far apart.” I had to remind them we had tried for another. Often they would backtrack, but sometimes they would brush it off like Zella’s pregnancy didn’t count. Not cool.
- Do teach people – Generally, you should avoid overanalyzing what people say, because it is very easy to be offended when you are emotionally fragile. However, where possible, you should let people know a better way to do it. (“You know, I really feel for your friend who had seven miscarriages, but as this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done so far, so I’d prefer not to compare.”)
- Do share your experience – Pregnancy loss is sadly very common, yet so many people feel alone. Reach out to others and share your story. Give them hope that there is life after tragedy without preaching.
I personally feel like the emotional pain of miscarriages, pregnancy loss and infant loss is something that people don’t seem to understand as a form of infertility.
From many of the people I have talked to who have survived pregnancy loss, they often feel ashamed at the loss or like others are blaming them/treating them like they did something wrong to cause the loss. Many of them feel unheard. If you were able to say something, anything in defense of women and families who are overlooked in this situation, what would it be?
Brooke
You have just been through something horrific. Don’t downplay it in your heart. Accept the love from everyone around you and let it carry you until you’re strong enough to carry yourself again. Ignore the criticism and “advice”. Don’t answer your phone or respond to emails if you don’t want to. Rest. Let other people watch your kids for a while. Remember that much of your anger and sorrow is amplified by your hormones. You didn’t make this happen. Find a way to believe that. Dismiss thoughts of guilt as soon as they come.
Kim
Having been there, and knowing those feelings exactly…understand that you may know in your heart you did nothing wrong…of course you did not, but you need to understand that guilt may never go away. I think that is normal. I think learning to memorialize the child in some way, especially if you were not able to see them or bury them is very important. I think it is just something in our culture that is still a bit taboo, like a baby isn’t a baby until 20 weeks or until they breathe…those things are silly and foolish and should be changed…a baby is a baby when you, deep in your heart feel it is a baby, your baby. Don’t be ashamed. Talk about it, share it, blog it…shout it to the world. EDUCATE people. If you aren’t strong enough to do that, guest blog it…ghost write it, do something, I promise it will help you feel so much better and get through it.
Laura
No matter the situation, there is a part of you that feels like damaged goods. Every time I go to a doctor’s appointment, I have to rehash my medical history, as if Zella was a science experiment. I have to deal with people who think I either overreacted or under-reacted to our experience–or just avoid the topic altogether. I have to endure people who want to make themselves feel safe from loss by suggesting something I could have done to avoid the situation. But in the end, it’s no one’s fault. Medically speaking, infant loss happens, often for no obvious reason. Spiritually speaking, infant loss is one of life’s many hardships that teach us compassion and love. No one is immune from tragedy. Everyone will walk in darkness at some point, so they should focus on being a bright light rather than assigning blame. Don’t let them do it, and don’t do it to yourself.
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Tomorrow we will be talking about what grief looks like during this difficult time.
I couldnt get through one sentence without goosebumps. What. Strong. Women.
I totally agree!
Okay Kim, I’m going to be brave and take your advise… talk about it. I really don’t talk about the miscarriages I’ve had; one very, very recently. This last time, I told my husband, Mom, one sister, and two very, very close and dear friends (one because she knew something was up and the second because I knew she could relate to me and I just needed to talk about it). That is it.
The biggest and most hurtful “don’t” for me, as an infertile woman with an infertile husband? Asking if this miscarriage gave me hope (?yay, you were pregnant) that we could now have a child because we’d gotten pregnant. No, after multiple miscarriages, 8 years of trying to conceive, and endless amounts of heartache, another miscarriage does not bring me any semblance of hope. It has simply brought even more grief, frustration, and heartache… all of with which I find I am having a very difficult time coping.
I couldn’t agree with you more! My husband and I have been going through infertility for 5 years now and have had 2 miscarriages. I can’t tell you how many times I have been told “at least you know you can get pregnant!” That DOES NOT make us feel any better!! My most recent miscarriage, I confided in an in law and her response was “I think I have miscarriages all the time, I just don’t test.” OUCH! You don’t forget miscarriages. I will carry mine with me forever.
I agree so much with this.
I totally agree with everything these 3 brave ladies said. I might also add that you should never start a sentence with “At least.” Don’t try and get them to look on the bright side. There is no bright side to losing a child, especially when the pain is fresh and raw. If they are ever going to find a silver lining in such a dark cloud, it will be on their own time and through their own thoughts and contemplation-it’s not your place to “solve” this problem for them or help improve their attitude. Just say “I’m sorry, I know this is so hard” and leave it at that. All I wanted was to feel my pain was being validated and hearing those words did me more good than any quote, scripture reference, conference talk, etc.
Oops! This is the one I meant to reply to. I agree with the other one, too, but this is exactly how I feel.
Thanks for sharing. So many great points that everyone needs to read. I honestly was one of those who never understood the heartache those who were having miscarriages were going through (and understandable no one really can until the have been there themselves) when I endured my miscarriage at 9 1/2 weeks I felt like I was being to emotional, to hard on myself, to much of a baby over it because my heart was breaking and I was an emotional wreck but it was ONLY a miscarriage, that many go through it so why was it so hard on me. Too me it was still my baby, it was still once a living child inside me, I wondered how they could brush it off so easy when it was killing me inside. Then friends reached out to me with their love and support and I learned and started to feel more that its not that way at all! That like mentioned above “a woman who discovers she is pregnant instantly loves her unborn child and creates a mental future for them. Losing that dream is devastating at any stage.” Everyone I have known personally who has been through it never seemed to talk about it and I had no idea they all felt the same way. I was not alone. There were thousands of others who had felt that same feeling, my heart broke even more for all those around me who had endured this same pain many even more times that I could ever imagine. I think many look at and respond to miscarriage as I did before. Just that someone had a miscarriage… that its sad and you feel bad for them. Life goes on. Unless they have been there, they don’t know and feel the loss & heartache you are living in. I think more need to talk about it, as you said educate your family & friends. Help others help those who need that love and support at that difficult time when maybe they never realized it was needed in the first place. I hope I am making sense.
Thank you so much Laura for your statements on not ranking tragedy. That really helped me! I feel instantly hopeful when I find out I’m pregnant so each loss is devastating for me even though I never make it very far.
I’ve had two miscarriages, and my first was the worst by far.
My mom hadn’t believed me when I’d told her I was pregnant and so when I told her I’d lost the baby I automatically felt like I had no support. She was so embarrassed at having been so snobbish about knowing I wasn’t pregnant she just didn’t say anything.
Which wasn’t nearly as bad as my mother in law who informed me about five hours after I began to miscarry to “get over it, it wasn’t like it was a real baby anyways. So it never really happened.”
I agree with Laura. I don’t care if you are eight weeks pregnant or found out four days ago, as soon as you find out you’re expecting you’re already planning life with a baby. My due date was May 8th. I miscarried my second on May 8th. The irony was not lost.
Honestly, my best advice for someone who knows that someone’s having a miscarriage;
If you don’t know what to say, you can’t go wrong with “I’m so sorry. What can I do for you right now?”
Please. Don’t offer more than that. It’s all we want.
The ladies in this post and all the commenters have said things beautifully.
Thanks to all for sharing their stories and thoughts. This helps others who have gone through this and who may go through this, by not hiding this topic, but making it okay to talk about. Love to all.
I had a stillborn daughter a little over two years ago. She was born at 40wks 4days. One day she was alive and kicking and the next day she was just….gone. I could relate to soooo many things in this post. It almost gives me a chuckle, well, a bitter chuckle that is, to realize how many of these words could have been my own. So kudos to those who were willing to share their experiences because, really, it’s not talked about often enough and feeling alone in your grief makes all that much more painful.
i am so, so sorry for your loss. i can’t even imagine how you must feel. thanks for sharing your story.
Ok Fabulous Fabulous Post. Wonderful, amazing women. I really loved this because as I read it I felt like man these things should be common sense and I can’t believe that people had to hear these things during such difficult times but then I realize that a lot of that is because I have been through moments like these myself. Obviously empathy is very mind opening but I was also able to see that others feel the same way. Each of these ladies were able to put the emotions I had felt into words but also help me a little in understanding how different we all view our own situations and how we need to be sensitive to that. I loved how Laura said “do” use the right words. I think thats important and I really liked her perspective. And how they all talked about the moment they heard the heartbeat they loved that baby. I remember when I finally had passed the 20 week mark in a pregnancy I was worried about some cramping. When I called the Dr. A nurse said, well you know its not really even a viable pregnancy until 23 or 24 weeks. WHAT?? This was my baby. Thank you for sharing this. I am going to share this with others and also remember some of the things that made each of them feel better so I can help someone else. Thanks Ladies for sharing your thoughts you are amazing.
My favorite part was when Laura said, “Don’t compare – Comforting someone should not include any one-uppers. That means you should tell them about a friend who had it worse. That means you don’t compare an experience you had with the death of a grandparent or another life obstacle. You don’t make people feel better by emphasizing the positive. You make them feel misunderstood, marginalized and weak.”
I always felt guilty when people would tell me, “Well, I had this one friend who had 7 miscarriages in a row.” Like just because I have only had 3, I shouldn’t be curled up in a ball in my bed, crying my eyes out. I mean I cared and felt for the friend who had 7 miscarriages, but it doesn’t make what I was going through any less hard.
Thank you Lindsey and ladies for sharing this!!
Ditto. I keep wondering where this need to compare comes from. People don’t realize they are minimizing the pain. You just can’t compare grief. Whatever the situation, it might be the hardest thing someone has even been through, and hearing “it could be worse,” doesn’t make you feel better.
I, personally, received too many books about babies dying. I know that people only meant well, and hoped the gift would be helpful to me, and I do appreciate it. But I don’t know if I will ever get around to reading all of them, and I definitely haven’t been up for it in the middle of my own experience. I also got lots of e-mails with links to blogs of people who had been through something similar, but again, I wasn’t ready for it. I don’t resent anyone for trying to help, but I just wasn’t ready (I’m still not).
I also agree that hearing “you’re so strong,” or “I wouldn’t be able to handle it” were not as comforting to me as my friends and family intended it to be. I knew they only meant to be supportive, but it made me feel like maybe I wasn’t showing my sadness enough (when, really, I was pretty numb so I probably wasn’t showing a lot of emotion), and that led to me feeling like maybe they thought it wasn’t as hard as it was or that I didn’t love my baby as much as I do. And I know that’s not how they meant it or how they felt, but it is where my thoughts led, and I didn’t love to hear it.
Some DO’s that I really appreciated were a care package from an old friend who just wanted to cheer me up, a memorial garden my neighbor planted for me, dinners delivered for my family because my friend knew I wasn’t up to shopping or cooking, etc. A friend of mine even did my grocery shopping for me, and then came over and cleaned my kitchen (it was a disaster, too). Just things that acknowledged that it was hard and I was sad and that they wanted to cheer me up, even though they knew they couldn’t fix it.
I didn’t talk to anyone about my multiple miscarriages, other than my husband and some family. It made it easier that we never told anyone I was pregnant until I was showing, due to a history of infertility with siblings. I didn’t want to put anyone in that awkward situation that is so well described in this post that there is no best way to react for everyone. As well explained, it doesn’t matter what you do or say, it’s going to be wrong for some individuals or wrong on some level. Beyond that, there are some really stupid people out there who won’t even try to be sensitive and will end up saying some really stupid and hurtful things. Let’s face it, those stupid people aren’t going to be reading this post either.
When I’m faced with something very sensitive like this, it’s better if I don’t say anything at all, and give someone the opportunity to put their foot in their mouth. Although, this can’t always be avoided either. I just don’t think there is ever any words that could comfort in any lose of pregnancy or child, especially those.
I also felt it would be inappropriate for me to place any kind of expectations out there, because almost everyone I know has had a miscarriage and there are many people I’m close to that can’t have children at all. Despite miscarriages, I have been blessed to have a healthy child. I just think about those who have never been able to have a child and how insensitive I would be if I were to expect my situation to somehow relate to theirs or for them to feel like they needed to comfort me. It’s safer for me and my sensitive feelings to keep those things close to my heart and with people I trust, and not give the opportunity for others to soil it.
This is amazing, and I cried reading both posts. I have lost two babies, and it never gets easier, even though I have two beautiful boys. I think people just don’t what to say, which is why they say the dumb stuff, or even dumber, just don’t say anything at all. After my MIL took a week to call me after my second loss (and only called at my sweet husband’s prompting), I started to realize just how hard it is for people who haven’t gone through it to know what to say or do. Thank you for sharing, and for putting words to what I could never explain.
Thank you. I always want to help and comfort, but am never sure how to go about it. I appreciate the strait forward advice,. Most of it seems like common sense, but I find myself wondering if I have said or done (or not done) something that might have hurt on accident.
Thanks for writing this!
As one who hasn’t dealt with infertility or the loss of a child, it’s so helpful to hear what’s going on on the other side. A girl in my ward just lost her baby just before delivering & had to labor & deliver a dead child. We’re not close, but my heart has just ached for her & I can’t stop crying thinking about how excited she was to start a family. She will be a wonderful mother and it’s just unfair that that opportunity was taken away from her just two days ago.
I honestly loved this! i have experienced pregnancy loss- stillborn . I had mine son kayden when i was about 20 weeks along. I was induced on a tuesday and i didn’t leave the hospital till that saturday. I truly was in a fog the whole entire time. I didn’t know that the pain and the heartache i have would be hard and difficult. My son was still born. The did testing him and the reason for what happened was that his kidneys didn’t form correct so he was not releasing the fluid. It killed me inside knowing that my little boy was not ok. I had bonded with my son since the day i found out I was pregnant. I will say that doing it on your own and dealing with the pain is hard. I didn’t have my sons dad there to support me and be the person i could lean on. I have a great family that was there for me. But they don’t know what is going on inside your head. I honestly have to say the best thing someone can do is listen to the person and be there for them. Because i know its hard to be around someone who has gone thru this loss and you really don’t know what to say.
I think all of these suggestions can be applied to a birth mom who has placed her child for adoption as well.
The thing I hated the most after placing my son was that everyone acted like things were just normal and that I had not been through anything at all. Even though I made a choice for my son to be placed for adoption I still grieved over the loss of parenting him. Every.Single.Day.
Losing a child is losing a child, no matter how it happens.
In addition to 1 early loss, we lost 2 babies in the 2nd trimester. I was showing both times & many people knew about the pregnancies. We found it helpful to tell about the losses in an email. That way, we could share details & explain why we weren’t chosing a D&C and people would know what happened without us telling every person or answering a lot of quesitons again and again.
In response, we received a lot of support & expressions of sympathy and love. People who may not think to say the right thing when caught off guard usually type something thoughtful when they can reword or edit the message. I think it’s more comfortable for many people to send a written message than to talk about it and worry they’ll make you cry.
After the 3rd loss we did a lot of testing and discovered I have a blood clotting disorder. We sent another email explaining because we know people have mourned with us and also wonder ‘why does this keep happening?’ We shared wtih them the treatment plan which is to take blood thinners for this pregnancy. Some people may think that’s TMI or may not want to share that much information with everyone, but for us it was another opportunity to receive support before embarking on another pregnancy which is high risk & nerve- wracking & definitely tests our faith. I think it also cuts down on the speculation of others which can be hurtful.
My husband and I got pregnant right after we were married. He is from another country, so we really didn’t have much time around one another before we were married. When we found out we were pregnant with our first, I was in excited but in shock too because I didn’t think I would get pregnant so fast. At 12 weeks, I went to my first ultra sound. My OBGYN said that there wasn’t a fetus and that I would have to schedule a D and C. We were both so sad, but knew that everything was in Heavenly Father’s hands. Early the next morning, I miscarried. Luckily I have a worthy Priesthood holder in my house (my husband) who gave me a blessing of comfort. That made the process of the most painful time of my life (so far) so much easier to cope with.
About two months later we were pregnant again. We traveled to Utah to visit family and I miscarried again. This time I was only eight weeks. I knew what was happening before it happened.
In order to give my body rest, we waiting about eight months before we tried again. I got pregnant the next year (a year after we were married). I was soooo scared to lose another pregnancy. Through out the whole pregnancy, I was on pins and needles. 41 weeks and and two days later, we had a beautiful 10.7 lb baby boy!
Now we have two boys. I will never forget my first two pregnancies. They will forever be apart of me!! For me, talking about it helped with the coping. It’s funny because when I was open about my feelings, I found out that having a miscarriage wasn’t that uncommon…people just didn’t talk about it.
Having the church in my life is such a blessing. I know that Heavenly Father has a plan and I am grateful for the plan that he has set forth!