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“The death of a child is a strain on anyone.”
That’s putting it mildly, I think.
While many hear that the divorce rates of couples who suffer the loss of a child are in the 70th, 80th or 90th percentiles, a 2006 study directed by Compassionate Friends found that only 16% of marriages ended as a direct result of or after the loss of a child. That’s far below the 50% divorce rate we in America claim.[i]
I wonder if a similar study, investigating only couples who have suffered what would be considered the loss of a baby—miscarriage, stillbirth, neonatal or postneonatal—would show similar results.
Before I wrote this article, I spoke to my husband and told him I wanted to be very real and very honest with those who read. I asked him if he was ok with me sharing some pretty intimate details, but details I feel extremely important to share in light Father’s Day being so close. He is really an amazing man, and he didn’t hesitate at all in giving me permission.
So I’m sharing that he and I are going to counseling. We found out on Mother’s Day that our last little baby, lost in April, was another little boy with perfect chromosomes. We named him Trey.
John and I had talked about how sweet it would be to take Luke and a little brother camping and fishing, and I know that he was about as excited as an expectant daddy could be at the thought of this.
Yet, in these months after losing Trey, when people ask us about children, John is quick to recognize Matthew as our first child and Luke as our living child.
Then he says, “And Lori just had a miscarriage.”
Our marriage is strong. We went to counseling together after Matthew died, and grieved very similarly…both feeling very similar devastation and loss. We truly are surviving the worst and grew stronger together for it.
It is not the same now, with a miscarriage at 12 and a half weeks.
“We have tried to get pregnant for years.”
“We lost Matthew.”
“We have Luke.”
But I had a miscarriage.
I do not doubt John’s depth of love for me, or the children for whom we have been blessed to call ours.
When I think of John holding Matthew in his arms as he took his last breaths…and then giving his lifeless body back to the nurses …leaving the hospital without his precious son?
I know that is a pain that will haunt him forever and a pain I can never truly understand myself.
It’s that pain I remember for him when I get hurt about feeling alone in losing Trey.
We lost another child. I did not just have a miscarriage.
We suffer again.
Yet, this time, I feel I suffer more alone.
John is always quick to admit I am right. We DID lose another child. We DID lose another sibling of Luke’s.
But his first automatic instinct is to say, “Lori had a miscarriage,” and not, “We lost our third son Trey.”
Neither of us wants this to become something that divides our marriage, so we are back in counseling to deal yet again with how infertility and child-loss and grief affect our marriage. To ensure that it is the strong marriage to which we are committed and in which we want to raise Luke and any other children we might have.
But I wonder how many don’t have that opportunity? That recognition of a need to build inpenetratable walls around their marriages so that they do not become a statistic?
And friend, I pray that if this is you, that you and your partner are able to come together and find a way to grieve differently, yet not leave each other feeling alone. Though society may imply that strong men don’t ‘need’ help, that’s a lie. There is no shame in working together to protect your marriage.
You’ve already lost so much. Don’t let grief steal one more thing.
[i] “When a child dies—2006 Survey Summary.” Compassionate Friends. 2006
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About Lori Ennis
Thanks so much for sharing Lori! and thank John too please. Marriage after a loss is HARD! Acknowledging how each other grieves and accepting that the loss can be grieved differently AND that grieving differently is ok can be challenging. Both parents need to be open and accepting when really all you want to do is shut down and wish it would go away. It took a lot of pain for my hubby and I to get where we are today but thankfully we are stronger than ever and support each other more than ever before; and just celebrated our 18th wedding anniversary in April.
18 years! Congratulations.
Thank you Kristin!!
xoxoxo We celebrated 15 in April (and 19 years together in May!)…crazy, isn’t it????? Could you have EVER imagined all those years ago…that this would be where we were? I sure couldn’t.
And yet…still standing. Amazing grace!
xoxoxoxo
We’ve been together 22yrs and NO not in all of my dreams of a wife and mother would I have imagined where we are at today. It is most definitely by the grace of God that we are still standing, and standing together!
Lori. This is such a powerful, powerful piece. I can’t tell you how much I appreciated, especially, the line “find a way to grieve differently, yet not leave each other feeling alone.” It is a true blessing that your husband will go to counseling with you. Without that shared experience of working together through this it is very easy as a wife to feel alone, even if her husband thinks he is doing right by her in being accepting/supportive of her grief. Very powerful piece. Loss, infertility, parenting after loss – there are so many emotions that go into those that even the strongest of couples can fall weak to them. Beautiful piece, friend.
Thanks, friend! It is SO hard. To be supportive, individual and yet…not isolate or alienate the other.
So hard. I just keep thinking what we will be able to tell Luke…how we will be able to show him that adversity doesn’t mean the end. That tough lives take tough people and he comes from tough stock.
Hope he gets that!!!
xoxoxoxo
Very well said and very powerful
Thank you Jessica! I really appreciate that. It’s not always an easy thing about which to write!
xoxoxo
i keep seeing a lot of these types of articles lately. or maybe it is just that I’m seeking them out.
im so happy you have a close connection and are trying to work on things. you are lucky.
we were not married when we lost Vylette in november due to horribly negligent midwives on thanksgiving weekend.
we did not have a strong foundation before getting pregnant. we were just madly in love and she was our love child.
pregnancy already made things rough. but losing her has made things turbulent. it is bad enough to lose a child, and then lose the bond with your partner…the only other person in the planet who knows what happened and how it feels. our grieving is so different that we cannot relate. everything is a fight. everything is an argument. very hateful evil things have been said. we live in an endless struggle and it hurts.. she would be 6 months a week and a few days old right now. so the pain is fresh. but i don’t know if we’re going to make it:(
I am so, so, so sorry for your loss. I cannot imagine not only losing my child, but due to negligence. I am so very grateful for our care and very sorry for your loss.
My Matthew died Thanksgiving weekend as well…in 2009. <3
I know it’s very hard right now…and there’s not much I can say to make that different. I can just tell you that clinging to that original bond that committed us to each other and to Matthew was all I could do. I pray that this is what you are able to do as well.
My very, very best and most sincere wishes…xoxoxoxo
Lori,
Thank you for this post. There is no shame in counseling. As a therapist I can say that all too often the stigma both personal and societial keeps couples from coming until their marriage is such a mess it is their last resort. Kudos to you for seeing it as a first resort. The longer problems linger the worse they get, the more people get hurt, and the harder it is to resolve. Asking for help is the best way to get the outcome you want.
Xo
Gabrielle
I think it’s more pressure on men. It was almost assumed that I’d hit counseling, but it was kind of like, “Oooohhh…John is going with you? That’s great!” (when Matthew died).
Now, with Trey, it’s again assumed that it’s “my” issue and that John going with me is a really nice bonus.
Not so. He needs and wants it just as much as I do…if not for each other, most certainly for Luke. To allow Luke to know that life is tough and it’s ok to have people help us.
That’s how we get through!!
xoxoxoxo
We lost our baby at 11 weeks on April 27th and although I know we are mostly on the same page, it wouldnt surprise me to hear my husband say ‘Val lost the baby’ as opposed to ‘we’. Thank you for this post, I cant help wonder if maybe your husband is just tapped out from your initial loss? My Grandmother used to say, it does not matter which way you cut it being a mother is vastly different (different, not better or worse), than being a father. It seems thats the status whether the children are living or not.
Kindest Wishes to you all
Valerie,
Valerie, I am very sorry for your loss. Your loss and my last loss were so very close—in timing and gestation. I’m with you—John and I are mostly on the same page with the nuts and bolts of things, but it’s that initial, gut response he gives sometimes…because like your Grandmother wisely said—it’s just different being the mother than it is being the father. He held Matthew as he took his last breath. All John knew of Trey was ultrasound pictures showing him wiggling and sucking his thumb. I knew both of those babies far more intimately, so it is certainly different and therefore, different grief accompanies.
And you are absolutely right about his (and my!) continued grief over losing Matthew. It was barely three years ago. We’ve had a lot of really intense things going on in three years—Three fresh IVF cycles and a frozen transfer, three pregnancies, two losses, a huge move…military missions…just a ton of stuff and that ALL takes the toll. All the more reason we think counseling will give us some safe outlets!
My best wishes as well, and again…so very sorry for your loss.
xoxoxoxoxo
So many feel the same way and I think that it is really essential that we share it. Thank you Lori for being one of the brave ones.
xoxoxo friend.
Think the more it’s talked about….the more our husbands will feel less stigmatized and more ‘normal’ themselves. And what a difference that could make to so many people, right?
xoxoxoxoxo
I used to believe that the loss of our son would keep us together forever….I used to believe that we had a very strong bond….I tried so hard to keep our relationship together. I tried for 12 years, until I realized I didn’t need to try….I’m not going to blame the end of my relationship on the loss of my child anymore…..
I’m very sorry for the loss of your precious son…and the additional loss of your relationship, for whatever reasons they were. It hurts, nonetheless…and I pray you are able to find peace.
xoxoxo
i am thankful for articles like this, and especially the feedback from other women who read it.
i think this is such an important topic because even if it is hard enough to contain your own grief amongst people who don’t have any idea what you’re going through..it is even harder to sit in a failing relationship after a loss and feel so completely alone..and at time alike theres no one else who can possibly understand. this can lead to even further and deeper depression.
You are right….even deeper depression is a pitfall for which we have to watch, and that’s exactly why I think that being proactive about the grief and the process to help us go through it is so important. You are right—it’s hard enough to contain grief…but to suffer in the one relationship you always felt was your strength? Too hard.
xoxoxoxoxo
Well said. Our marriage endured the strain of loss more than once as well. There was definitely a point where we needed counseling as we both grieved so differently. I have found that one of the keys to surviving the loss with your marriage intact (and even growing closer in the process) is to for both to understand and respect one another’s need to grieve differently. It takes a lot of grace and working through those feelings. But, you are so right…grief should not be allowed to steal one more thing.
Thank you both for your willingness to honestly share.
Love to you!
Kelly, YES! Grace. A lot, lot, lot of grace because it just seems SO natural to feel one way and so UNnatural that your partner could be another. It’s hard.
Love you, friend!
Oh Lori, thank you for this article. My fiance & I nearly lost each other after Dexter died. & to be honest, it’s been an uphill battle within our relationship to keep it going. Grief is like a monster in the night that creeps behind you waiting to pounce & tear you apart. & being someone who has found Christ, I truly believe that Satan has found it’s way to use that grief to try & destroy all of us. I am ‘happy’ right now, as much as I can be.. but at the same time, I hold each day to be this fragile thing that can take away something else that I love & hold dear.
For me, it’s all one breath at a time.
~ Leslie Matteson
Oh friend, I totally agree!!! I’ve always said, if one wanted to destroy my relationship with God, it would be to come along and steal my children.
Thank God His grace is sufficient and I’ve been able to fight that…but as you said, it’s fragile and hard.
One breath at a time indeed.
xoxoxoxoxo
I was glad to find this article as my husband and I are having a silent fight for our relationship now after losing our son on May 13, 2012. My son was stilborn at 35 weeks gestation, my husband was not present for his birth. He did not want to see or hold him and I was very alone when I needed him so very much. I am struggling with how to forgive him. It seems easy to know when you need to forgive but so much harder to know how. I know there is nothing that can be done to change how things happened that day. I know that losing my baby would still be as painful even if my husband was by my side. I just so wish that this awful and wonderful moment of our history would bring us together and not push us apart. My hubby doesn’t want counseling. He won’t look at the scrapbook I made for the baby or the photo album of his pictures. I am trying not to judge how he is handling this. I really do want to be supportive of his need to move on but boy it is lonely on the other side.
Dawn,
I do not have advice, really. I can only hope you see my comment after so many days have passed. But, I want to tell you that I’ve discovered over the last few years that we do grieve very, very differently from our husbands. I felt alone sometimes in our losses, as if my husband had entered his ‘fortress of solitude’ and shut me out. He, though, felt those disappointments and losses just as keenly – but while I felt helpless against my grief, he felt he must master it…He felt he had to be the strong one, the one who kept going. I did, in fact, find some writings of his one day – he had poured out his sadness on paper. He wrote of how he had failed me…
I never told him I found that. But, I did find ways to talk to him. For us it was time, trial and error. We found our way.
You do not have to wait on him to grieve. But, try not to let your grief and loss translate into anger at him. It will only hurt you far more. It has only been a couple of months. For us it has been years, and we are still feeling our way.
I’ll remember you in my prayers.