Grief is often a welcomed shadow to those of us who have lost our babies. It stabs and scrapes us. It’s sometimes feared and other times embraced. Yet we hold on to it whether it bites us or not because it connects to our baby. This probably won’t make sense to someone who hasn’t lost a piece of their heart, but those of you who have know just what I mean.
We grief-stricken understand each other. We get the madness, the moodiness, the rage, the sorrow and the abandonment. We live in this strange place. It’s very difficult, however, to explain to others. Why do we do the things we do? Why have we changed so much? Why can’t we just move on?
I can hardly keep track of the times I’ve been told, “Stop being so sensitive,” or “I don’t get you anymore,” or “When are you going to be the old you again?” I’m proud of my sensitivity, I don’t need anyone to “get” me and I will never be my old self.
I know we may be confusing. I want to help you understand us. Most importantly I want you to understand that there is nothing wrong with us. Here are some other questions you may have that I can shed some light on.
Why do we keep pictures of our dead babies?
We keep pictures of our deceased babies and we talk about them all the time. It makes you uncomfortable and seems so morbid doesn’t it? Here is the difference between our perspectives. When you think of our baby you think death; when we think of our baby we think love. We cherish those pictures because they are all we have of them. It is not morbid, it’s pure, unconditional love. We talk about them because they are our family and they are important. They are beautiful to us even after they’ve passed away.
Why don’t we respond to outreach or emails?
Life doesn’t feel real to us anymore, especially early in our grief. It’s so difficult to function, even to breathe. When everyone finds out about our loss we are inundated with emails, cards, flowers, letters and phone calls, all of which we appreciate, but we don’t get to them immediately. It’s the last thing on our minds. Activities as simple as showering or eating have gone to the wayside. It’s not that we don’t appreciate your gestures; it’s that we don’t know which way is up. We won’t regain our sense of direction for a very long time. We appreciate your kindness but it would be even kinder of you to let go of any need of acknowledgement or response from us.
When will we be our old selves again?
The simplest answer to this question is, “Never.” A loss as traumatic as this doesn’t temporarily stun us, it immobilizes us. It changes our outlook on life. It changes everything. We will never be our old selves, that skin has been forever shed. You miss how we once were, but you may find that in time we have grown to love more intensely, feel more empathetically and live more presently than we ever could have before.
Why do we get angry or weepy over “nothing”?
Our nerves are on the outside of our bodies. For a while, everything hurts. We need to be handled with tenderness and care. Sometimes our reactions may seem intense but please remember our state and what brought us there. There is no set passage of time in which we will “get better” and there are certain things we will always be sensitive about (especially anything relating to our babies). Accept this about us and know that your support can help us heal.
Why can’t we just appreciate your good intentions?
My perhaps blunt opinion is that it’s not our job to see your good intentions but your job to find sensitivity in your words. Our hearts are broken, our minds are reeling and we need so much more than we can give. There are many articles, blogs and websites (such as this one) that suggest sensitive things to say and list the best ways to be supportive to grieving parents. Please seek out these resources and encourage others to do the same.
Why aren’t we as fun as we used to be?
You know what we’ve been through, but does that mean we can’t have a good time anymore? Yes and no. We can still find things to be humorous or exciting. We still laugh and can enjoy many moments of our life, but we are also never far from our babies. Our hearts don’t leave them even in death. Solemn moments when we think of our babies appear in our lives on a daily basis and we cannot control when that happens. It can and often does occur in the space of time we have allotted to spend with you. If a smile briefly leaves our face don’t see it as a personal insult. Realize that perhaps something made us long for our little ones. Maybe we saw someone’s dress that reminded us of the one outfit they got to wear, or a child scampers by that would be the same age as them. Let us have that moment.
Of course the complexities go far beyond the few examples I’ve given and no two experiences are alike. Each person tolerates their pain and emotes in ways that are as unique as they are. Trade your expectations for compassion when dealing with someone who is grieving the loss of their baby. They need that more than you know.
{Your Thoughts}