Immediately after Michael's death, Rob and I both sought the support of our local chapter of SHARE (a national organization specifically dealing with infant and pregnancy loss). We attended both their individual counseling and their support group meetings for months. I wrote page after page in my private computer journal. I found a great deal of grief support online after losing Katie and Kyle. After losing Michael, I sought out much more. I became involved with the wonderful women at ParentsPlace.com, on their Stillborn support board. Those women, through sharing their grief and allowing me to share mine, truly helped me maintain my sanity. As the world went on around me during those early months and much of society expected me to "get over it", my online friends became one of my main ties to reality... what had now become my reality... They were my emotional lifeline and I am forever grateful.
Our society does not like to deal with death. But the death of a precious, dearly loved child is something much of the world seems to know little about coping with. I found my refuge, my outlet for all the confusing emotions, at the computer keyboard. I typed and typed for hours on end, in all my free moments, often late into the night. I began to explore my grief completely, to allow the emotional pressure to slowly escape so that I wouldn't explode. Today, over 3 years later, I am still typing, both privately in my journal, and publicly here on this page, with thoughts that I want shared. I am in a different place today. The sadness is still with me and always will be. It is part of who I am now. I have children, missing from my life here on earth, that should be here, that I long to hold. I will always ache to know what they would have been like or what they would have looked like as they grew up. I will always remember them and acknowledge their existence in my life. But the deep despair and intense pain now usually remains well below the surface, emerging around my babies birthdays, due dates, on certain holidays, or when particular events or situations cause it to erupt like a volcano. I have today found a much more consistent place of peace in my life, a place where I laugh and enjoy life again. While each month brought me closer to reaching this place, I feel that it took me at least 3 years to actually be here. Many people like to like to share the cliche' "time heals all wounds". I can honestly tell everyone that time alone heals nothing. Healing all depends upon what you do with that time. You can find yourself trapped in the same place a year later if you try to run from your problems or pretend everything is alright. Grief is a process with many stages. A bereaved parent cannot skip over it or go around it. They must go through it, in all its ugliness, and allow themselves to feel and acknowledge the despair and anger. Here I would like to share a glimpse into my grieving process, to provide hope for those just beginning down this painful road, and to provide some small amount of understanding to those who have been blessed never to experience it.
I was still grieving the loss of my twins, then Michael's death sent me to a depth I never knew existed. I felt completely dead inside for months... lost and disconnected from the rest of the world. The world kept turning, but I had no desire to take part in any of it. As more time passed, my shock and numbness slowly gave way to other stages of the grieving process. Gradually, there were periods amidst the deep despair and torment where I was not completely immersed in my grief. That is when the inevitable stage of anger began to take more of a stronghold. I began oscillating back and forth between the rage and the deep despair. Gradually after more than a year, I began slowly finding periods of resolution and peace. I was functioning in the world well enough, but still felt somewhat disconnected. At that point, it seemed that for every step forward, there was another one backward. In retrospect I can now see that the steps forward greatly outweighed the others, but at the time that was difficult to realize.
During my days of rage, the computer keyboard became more of an outlet than ever. I spent many hours venting and spewing out my thoughts and feelings. It was like a poison that needed to be purged. I was angry at the news, hearing of women throwing healthy unwanted babies in the garbage, or people abusing their children. I was angry with women around me who had conceived accidentally, some having several such "accidents", who complained about their pregnancies and complained that it all happened TOO easily for them. I was enraged at women with twins who complained about what a tremendous burden or trial it was to have been blessed more that one healthy baby at a time. But most frequently I was angered by the barrage of insensitive comments that seemed to endlessly flow from so many people mouths.
The next paragraphs on this page are edited from my personal journal writings in the early weeks and months following Michael's death. My hope is that by sharing these thoughts, I might provide information on grief or more specifically on the very unique grief over the death of an infant (whether through miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death). Somehow society has always believed that it is best for parents to try to forget that a dearly wanted baby ever existed, instead of allowing them to remember their pregnancy, birth, and death, along with all the lost hopes, plans and dreams. Society somehow feels that it will be easier for parents not to remember that the precious baby was such an intimate a part of their lives, even before birth. That, however, is an impossible task. The expectation is there that the bereaved parents should quickly be able to carry on as if nothing has happened. Although some of that is slowly changing, amazingly, that thought still prevails in the minds of many.
For those of you who are living this indescribable nightmare, I hope it brings you some comfort, helps you feel less alone in your despair, and provides you with some words to convey to family and friends about your needs. For those family and friends of bereaved parents, my hope is that you may gain a better understanding of this unimaginable pain, learn some things you should say and do, and more importantly learn what not to say and do.
Don't
Author Unknown
Don't tell me that you understand,
Don't tell me that you know...
Don't tell me that I will surely survive,
How I will surely grow...
Don't tell me this is just a test,
That I am truly blessed...
That I am chosen for the task,
Apart from all the rest...
Don't come at me with answers,
That can only come from me...
Don't tell me how my grief will pass,
That I will soon be free...
Don't stand in pious judgment,
Of the bonds that I must untie...
Don't tell me how to suffer,
And don't tell me how to cry...
My life is filled with selfishness,
My pain is all I see...
But I need you, I need your love,
Unconditionally...
Accept me in my up's and down's,
I need someone to share...
Just hold my hand and let me cry,
And say, My friend, I care...
After losing my babies, I heard so many times, "We just don't know what to say" or "We just can't understand what you are feeling". Those comments are fine and there is nothing wrong with saying that. While it is true they don't know what we are feeling, most people do seem to know proper etiquette and use tact in consoling others who have lost loved ones. Why then, do so many find it so difficult to use that same tact and give the same understanding when consoling bereaved parents after losing a precious baby?
All of us who have experienced the death of an unborn/newborn baby need to be treated in the same way that a person who has lost an older child or any other loved one would be treated. I fully realize the situations are different and that the death of an older child is an unimaginable nightmare that I pray I never have to experience. But the fact remains that if others would just use the same tact, compassion, and understanding before they speak, that they would use for those bereaved parents, they could greatly help us in our grieving or at least not add more pain and anger to it.
If a ten year old child is dying of cancer, no one would say to the parents, "Don't hold them too much or take pictures, you don't want to get too attached. It will only make it worse". Or "You mean you still call him/her by name?" Yet people have no problem saying these horrible things to those of us whose children died before or just after birth. Many people are surprised that we name our babies, take pictures of them, hold them, and try to remember everything about them. No one would go up to the parents of an older child who died and say "I am really struggling to understand why this is so painful for you." You don't have to experience that in your life to realize that the pain must be unbearable. Yet people are often surprised that after losing our babies, the pain we feel is SO intense.
Having to face all the insensitive, hurtful, and often idiotic comments from others adds such tremendous difficulty to the grieving process of bereaved parents. It makes us feel as if we must constantly strive to validate and legitimize the intensity of our grief, because others can't even relate to why it is so painful, and didn't really even acknowledge our child as a person. Since my nightmare began with the loss of Katie and Kyle followed by Michael's death 8 months later, I have been constantly barraged with the cliches and anecdotes that minimize my feelings and devalue my children's importance.
I must have heard a thousand times, as an immediate response from people upon learning of our tragedies, "Well at least you have children, just be thankful for the ones you have." That comment always makes me feel as though my intense grief would somehow be more justified if these terrible tragedies had occurred before we had children - that it should somehow be less of a tragedy now. Somehow if a first child dies, the parents are permitted by society to grieve more than they are for subsequent children. I can assure everyone, I am and have always been immensely thankful for the wonderful children I have. It did not take the deaths of three to make me appreciate them. But it really doesn't matter if you have one, two, or ten; nothing takes away from a parent's grief over the death of any one of them. I hear this comment often from other parents who have two or three children themselves. I always wonder how they think they would feel after holding one of their children's lifeless bodies in their arms, then burying them. Would the living children they have or the subsequent children that they may have serve as a replacement? It is like saying to someone who has just lost their mother, "Well at least your Dad is still alive." What a ludicrous statement. One parent cannot serve as replacement for the other, and the same holds true for children. Having older children means that you also have to cope with their grief after losing a dearly wanted baby sibling. It also means that you have to pull yourself together after burying your child, long before you are ready, in order to function as a parent. It adds a whole different dimension to the grieving process, but certainly doesn't lessen it. It goes without saying that you are grateful to have the children you do, but it in no way minimizes the horror and indescribable pain you feel after experiencing the death of one.
In another example, think for a moment of how most people instinctively treat a woman who has just lost her spouse. No one would ever go up to that bereaved widow and say, "Well you can get married again. You can just find another husband. That will replace the one you lost" Yet I have had to continuously hear things like, "Well you are young. At least you are fertile. You can have another baby." As if children are just interchangeable parts and you can just replace them when one dies - as if the thought of trying again is such a simple decision to make with all the unknowns and all the terror that it evokes.
No one would ever make the horrible comment to that widow, "I just can't understand why losing your spouse is so upsetting. He lived a full life and was getting old." Yet I have had to hear things like "I just can't understand how losing a fetus could be so upsetting to you". Or "At least you didn't carry to fullterm and really get to know them." As if then it would have been losing a "real baby". I don't know why it is so difficult to understand that my babies already were part of the family and a part of my life from the time I knew of them. They were all so dearly wanted and loved. My every thought and dream centered around them coming to join our family and taking care of myself to give them the best possible start in life.
Others who have lost loved ones don't have to continually justify in their own minds and for the rest of the world that the love they felt for those people was real. Yet as a parent having lost my babies during pregnancy, I have to constantly do that. I spent every moment of my pregnancies loving and nurturing my babies, dreaming about them as part of our family.
The bereaved widow that I used in my last example doesn't have to sit for the rest of her life and ponder how to respond to the question "Are you married?" She can always answer with the truth and say that she is widowed but was happily married for many years. Everyone understands that. She never has to deny her husband's existence in her life just to spare people's feelings or to spare herself hearing their bizarre comments. I have to always cringe when people ask how many children I have. I evaluate the situation to see if it is safe to even acknowledge the existence of my beloved children in heaven. It feels like I am betraying them and their memory to not even acknowledge them. I love them so much. But I cannot always talk about the ones who aren't here. The widow can always share about her husband. She can have his pictures up all around her home so that everyone who enters remembers him and her terrible loss. She probably has many people who will tell stories about him and share memories about him. I have to remember my short time with my precious children who aren't here alone with a handful of pictures, cards, and poems, or with a tiny handful of my closest friends who let me share anything without all the trite anecdotes and insensitive commentary. I have many wonderful pictures of Michael, but most sit packed away in his memory box. I take them out and look upon them often, but only in quiet times when I am by myself. After a year or so, I finally put one of me holding him on my dresser next to his beautiful marble angel urn.
"Your child is in a better place now" is another very common comment. To parents who want, love, and cherish their children, there is no better place for a baby then in their loving arms. I always feel like asking these people, if my child is in so much better of a place, do they then wish for their living children to go there too.
All of these comments are often well-intentioned, but horribly hurtful to bereaved parents. I wish everyone could understand that the pain over losing a child isn't something that can be fixed or spoken away with words or phrases. It has to be experienced by the bereaved parents and all of the stages of grieving have to be gone through. LISTEN to them, hug them, and cry with them. Allow them to express all of their often seemingly irrational emotions without facing judgmental comments. This is one of the greatest gifts a friend or family member can provide the bereaved parent.
I find it sad that all this needs to be spelled out and explained to much of the world. But I have found it necessary to do so, even to many who have children. It seems as though people with children should at least be able to find empathy, just imagining their own experience with labor and delivery. Only instead of it ending in joy, if they could only imagine knowning the whole time that their sweet baby is dead. If they could just imagine through it all knowing in the end, all they would be able to do is hold their child's tiny body for a short time... then say goodbye for the rest of this lifetime. Instead of leaving the hospital to plan on showing off this new person to the rest of the world, they leave the hospital to plan their child's funeral. That is precisely what I have lived. How difficult is it to then imagine the incredible devastation this has brought into my life?
I also feel the need to address parents choosing to have a subsequent child after their losses. I wish that everyone could know that a new baby does NOT replace the ones who died. As an example, if a young woman loses her husband in a horrible accident, then a couple of years later meets a wonderful man and remarries, that new husband does not replace the one she lost. They might have an incredible life together. He might, as best he can, fullfill a fatherly role for her children who have lost their father. But when she speaks to her children about their father or shares memories that she has of him, others don't stop her with "Oh well, just think, you wouldn't have your new husband if you hadn't lost the first one" or "You know everything happens for a reason, just look at the wonderful man you have in your life now." What horrible and ridiculous things to say! Yet parents who lose babies and go on to have subsequent children hear that sort of thing all the time. During the pregnancy and after the birth of that subsequent child, many people seem to feel that the parents' grieving over the children they have lost is somehow supposed to end, that their is no longer a need or place for that anymore. Each time those parents mention their grief or thoughts of the child they lost, they are often stopped and faced with, "Oh well, at least you have this child now. Look how blessed you are" or "Just think, you wouldn't have this child if you hadn't lost the other baby" or "You see, God never makes a mistake, he blessed you with this baby instead." Do these people honestly mean that God purposely killed or ignored the struggles of the first baby in order to give a different one? I think if these people really thought about what they were saying, they would realize the inappropriateness of it. I think they would realize how these statements hurt and how they leave the bereaved parent to feel completely isolated and alone in their grief.
A subsequent baby is a precious addition to the family. They are individual and unique, but they do not replace a child who has died. Just as the young widow who remarries may add a wonderful dimension to her life, she and her children may have many wonderful years together with her new husband, but he does not serve as replacement for the husband and father they lost. I would NEVER want my children in heaven to feel that they were or even could be replaced. Nor would I EVER want my subsequent child to grow up believing that they were merely a substitute for the children that should have been here. They are all unique, separate and precious individuals. I will always love, adore, and cherrish my children who are here. But I also will always remember and always grieve my babies who aren't - each time I see twins or triplets, each time I see a little boy the same age Michael would have been.
The grief over the death of a child is a grieving for the future that is lost. It is a pain that is ongoing, through each holiday, and each birthday without that child. It is a pain that is amplified each day by the visual reminders of other infants/children the exact age that our child should have been. It is no wonder the grieving over the death of an unborn baby is such a prolonged, horrid, lonely, process for the mother. I will carry on, but will wonder for the rest of my life, what the precious children I lost would have been like, what they would have looked like, what the experience of twins or triplets would have been like. Though the grief becomes more manageable through time, and I learn to smile, laugh, and enjoy life again, the loss of our babies has left a hole in my family, in my life, and in my heart that can never be filled.
PLEASE...
By Rita Moran
PLEASE - don't ask me if I'm over it yet. I'll never be "over it."
PLEASE - don't say "Your baby is in a better place". My baby isn't here with me.
PLEASE - don't say "at least your baby isn't suffering." I haven't come to terms with why my baby had to suffer at all.
PLEASE - don't say "Well, you're lucky, your baby might have been born with a lot of problems." Would you love your own child any less if they had been born with problems?
PLEASE - don't tell me you know how I feel, unless you have lost a child.
PLEASE - don't tell me to get on with my life. I'm still here, you'll notice.
PLEASE - don't ask me if I feel better. Bereavement isn't a condition that "clears up."
PLEASE - don't tell me "God never makes a mistake" or "It was God's will." Do you honestly mean He did this on purpose?
PLEASE - don't tell me "at least you had him/her for ____ years/months/days." Or, "At least you have or can have other children." Or, "At least you know you can get pregnant." What year would you choose for your child/pregnancy to die/end?
PLEASE - don't tell me God never gives you more than you can bear. Who decides how much another person can bear?
PLEASE - just say you are sorry.
PLEASE - just say you remember my child/my pregnancy/our excitement if you do.
PLEASE - just let me say my child's name without turning away or changing the subject.
PLEASE - just let me talk if I want to.
PLEASE - let me cry when I must.
GRIEVING PARENT'S WISH LIST
I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had my child back in my arms.
I wish you wouldn't be afraid to speak my child's name. My child lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that my child was important to you also.
If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child I wish you knew it isn't because you hurt me. My child's death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child, and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.
Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me. I need you now more than ever.
I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you: but I also want you to hear about me. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child. That is my favorite topic of the day.
I know that you think and pray for me often. I also know that my child's death pains you, too. I wish that you would let me know those things through a phone call, a note, or a really big hug.
I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in six months. These first months are traumatic for me, but I wish that you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die.
I am working on my recovery but I wish that you could understand that I will never fully recover. This tragedy has changed who I am. I will always miss my child and always grieve that my child is dead.
I wish that you would not expect me "not to think about it" or to "be happy." Neither will happen for a very long time, so don't frustrate yourself.
I don't want to have a "pity party" but I do wish that you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I heal.
I wish that you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I am miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.
When I say "I'm doing ok," I wish that you could understand that I don't "feel" ok and that I struggle daily.
I wish you knew all of the grief reactions that I'm having are normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I'm quiet and withdrawn, or irritable and cranky.
Your advice to "take one day at a time" is excellent advice. However, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you could understand that I am struggling to handle one hour at a time.
Please excuse me if I seem rude, that's certainly not my intent. Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time alone.
I wish that you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died too. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I will never be that person again.
I wish very much that you could understand my loss and my grief, my silence and my tears, my void, and my pain. But I pray that you never have to truly understand.
Here is a checklist for family and friends who want to help bereaved parents suffering after the loss of their baby:
Let the parents know how sorry you are and how much you love them. There are no "right" things to say exactly. Tell your friend what is in your heart. Tell them that you love them and care about them and that you are heartbroken for them. Just tell them you don't know what to say. They will appreciate your honesty.
The WORST thing you can do is to say nothing and ignore it. Please DON'T ignore it. That is what many people do. It just makes bereaved parents feel more isolated and alone.
If you are pregnant, it may be either difficult or impossible for your friend to see or even talk to you. You will need to be very understanding and extra patient with your friend. It is just such a huge, painful reminder of what they have lost. If they find it too painful to see or talk to you right now, please don't take it personally. It is just that to avoid pregnant people at may help save their sanity. They don't begrudge you your happiness, it's just that they are mourning the loss of theirs. Adding painful images of what they are missing on top of the grief and bereavement can be too much to cope with.
NEVER EVER complain to or in front of grieving parents about your pregnancy or difficulty with your healthy newborn baby. Realize how blessed you are! When people with healthy, living, babies know how lucky they are, it does make it somewhat easier. Realize that the grieving parents would give anything to have all the morning sickness, backaches, or be up all night with a fussy baby. Hearing ANY complaints about it is, and probably always will be, beyond intolerable for most grieving parents. Realizing how blessed you are, however, does not mean constantly sharing with your friend all the joys and little firsts that you and your baby are experiencing. Adding that vivid image of all that they are missing out on with their baby can really be painful.
If you were pregnant together or have a new baby close to the same age as the bereaved parents, DO NOT send them Christmas cards with baby pictures and with cheery little letters about your adventures in parenting.
Another very difficult situation is baby showers for friends or relatives. Even as long as a year or more after the baby's death, your friend still may not be able to go to a baby shower. It is just too hard -- too many memories. Please don't take it personally if she opts not to attend your shower.
Use their baby's name when talking about their child. This shows the parents that you acknowledge their baby as a real individual. People often don't use the child's name for fear of upsetting the parents. The parents are already upset, nothing is going to change that. Mentioning their baby's name tells them that you have enough regard for their child to remember their name and that you care about them. Say something like "I know you miss (name), how are you doing?" If you don't use the baby's name it really hurts, because their baby is real, and a huge part of their lives.
GO to the funeral or memorial service if the parents are having one. Parents often feel a special closeness to those friends and family members who make the effort to go.
Please, DO NOT bring babies or small children along!
Try not to compare any other loss with the loss of a baby. Sometimes people think by saying " I know how you feel, my Grandpa/Mother/dog/etc. have passed on" that it will make them feel better. There really is no comparison to any other loss. This is the loss of an innocent little person who will never know life. The parents have lost a huge part of their future with a lifetime of hopes, plans and dreams for that child.
LISTEN WITHOUT judgment, whenever they want to talk. It is so important to the parents to have someone they can talk to at any time. They have enough to cope with without having to justify their feelings or reactions to anyone. There is no 'normal' way to react and they need to know that you accept them as they are. It doesn't' matter if they say the same thing every time, or if their feelings don't seem logical or rational to you. It is the most wonderful gift to provide a bereaved parents a safe place to vent all their thoughts and emotions, free from judgment, criticism, and trite commentary.
Avoid using clichés especially those starting with "At least..." i.e. "At least you can have another baby" or "At least you already have children". There are not really any statnements that start off this way that will end up being appropriate or helpful. These statements deny the individuality and significance of this precious baby's life and the importance he/she has in the parents lives and hearts. These statements minimize all that your friend is going through. Some of the worst things to say are, "It was God's will," "God is really testing you" "It's for the Best" "At least you know your baby's in heaven, so be happy." "You'll get over it" "Aren't you feeling better yet?" etc. Statements like this often cause much more harm than good. Bereaved parents DO NOT want to hear that God had a hand in causing it or that it was for the best. They are probably struggling desperately with why God didn't prevent it. Telling them that God did it on purpose in order to fulfill some plan often just evokes terrible anger. If spirituality is important to your friend, encourage her and tell her you will pray for her. Tell her it's OK to be mad at God. He understands. It is usually to leave religious comments out of the conversation unless the bereaved parent brings up the subject. Bereaved parents often have terrible spiritual struggles following the loss of a child, the comments I listed above tend to add to that rather than provide answers. LISTEN WITHOUT judgment!
Be there, offer to help if you can, but don't be offended if the offer is not
accepted right away. Just offer again later, but don't take over. Avoid just making open ended offers like "If there is anything I can do, just call me." While the thought is wonderful, it can often be too intimmidating to take a person up on it. If you really want to do something, be specific in your offer i.e.:
Bring them food for dinners and lunches if you are able to. This is so helpful. Offer to stop by the grocery store and pick up things. They have not only been through all the physical experience of labor and delivery a baby, but are now dealing with the aftermath of grief and depression over the death of that precious baby. Their child is not home with them where he/she belongs. Simple chores like shopping and cooking dinner can seem overwhelming.
Go over and do some housekeeping right afterward, if you can. This can be such a help. Your kindness will always be remembered. No need to do spring cleaning type housework, just doing the normal chores that are not being done now is immensely helpful.
Help with and spend time with their other children. It is so difficult for parents in the midst of such deep despair to function well enough for their older children. The children will be experiencing a range of feelings they may have never felt before. They will need much support also. Be careful not to take over. Find out what their parents have told them and how things have been explained to them. Respect and support the parent's decisions in this area.
Ask them if there is anything they would like you to do to memorialize their baby. This could be a donation to a charitable organization, purchasing a tree or flowering bush, donating a toy to a children's charity at Christmas, etc...
Send a card and maybe some flowers. For many parents, the cards and flowers received when their baby dies are very special. They may put them in the baby book or keepsake box as a reminder of the friends and family who were supportive through this horribly tragic time.
Talk about their little baby with them, if and when they are ready. Don't take the first "no" to mean that they just want to forget about it all. They may still be in shock. But there will probably come a time, later, when they are ready. So let them know you will be there to talk about it with them. It will help parents to know you remember their baby, and you realize that their baby is CONSTANTLY on their minds. Even if talking about him/her makes them cry, these are tears that need to be shed. Don't think that you have upset them, they are already in pain and you have helped by allowing them the freedom to express it. Let them know that you realize the pain NEVER goes away. They will NEVER forget their baby and neither will you. Understand that they will just learn to live with the heartache eventually.
Allow them to express their grief. Encourage your friend to cry. Let her know that your shoulder is available. Let them tell "their story" a hundred times if they need to. This is a very common expression of grief and really needs to be done for their sake. Allow and accept expressions of guilt, anger or blame. These are all a normal part of grief and are very difficult to work through if others do not accept them. On that note, this doesn't mean that you should agree with a Mother who says "I am to blame for my baby's death because I ate this or did that". Instead listen to her feelings and acknowledge them. When the time is right let her know that it isn't her fault and she didn't cause it. There is nothing she could have done to prevent it. The main thing is to let her know you hear her feelings and that it is ok that she talks to you about them.
Express your own feelings, something that may upset your friend or relative, is that society in general does NOT realize just how much a baby's death really hurts. They need to know that their baby's death has affected you too. "I don't know what to say, I'm just so sorry" are sometimes all that needs to be said.
Remember the father, he too is grieving, but is often overlooked by people. He may have difficulty in expressing his feelings and may feel he has to be strong for everyone else. Give him permission to grieve. People often call the husband and immediately ask "How is she doing?" Try to remember that he lost his baby too. Though he may be acting strong for his wife, he is deeply hurting too. The father may well answer the phone, screening his wife's calls. Remember to ask him how he is coping before talking to her! Sometimes men start to grieve a little later, after their wife has begun to cope better.
Make a note of the baby's birthday and due date. Send a card or flowers on these days or simply phone the family and say you are thinking of them. Your kindness will be very much appreciated. Also remember that Christmas, Mother's Day, Father's Day and other significant occasions/holidays will be painful reminders of the little person missing from the family. The parents will need EXTRA support and understanding!
Receiving a gift or special keepsake on baby's birthday or at Christmas or other holidays mean so much. The days and weeks leading up to these holidays are so hard for the parents and such a reminder of what they have lost! Their baby should have been such a huge part of all the celebration, but isn't here, and never will be. Acknowledge that the baby lives on in their hearts.
When the shock has worn off (2, 4, 6, etc... months after the baby's birth/death) they may begin to feel hopeless and may begin to wonder how on earth they will be able to resume a normal life without their baby. Call them often even after months have passed. They may not want to talk, but knowing people remember them and care helps them not to feel so alone in their pain. Let them know you are thinking about them. This time is still so painful, and often parents feel forgotten when the first couple of weeks pass and people go on with their lives. Others tend to forget that they are still in the midst of such severe pain. Please let other friends know too.
Be sensitive about the things that belonged to or would have belonged to their baby. Most parents will want and need to put these things away by themselves, WHEN they feel ready. Don't rush them. This is part of saying goodbye, and some parents may not put things away for a long, long time, and that is okay too.
Realize that unfortunately there isn't anything you can do to make it better. They are going to be suffering for a very long time. All you can do is tell them that you love them and that you will be there for them.
Admit you don't know how they feel, say "I can't imagine how you feel. I just want you to know that I am here for you and so very, very, sorry."
