Allow me to address a topic that our modern “happy” world easily dismisses. Are you ready for it? Here it comes: I had a baby who died. I’m a survivor of infant loss. My daughter passed away when she was a day old.
This is part of my truth. Yet, I often feel an expectation to stay silent about this truth that’s redefined my entire life. Two years into my grief journey, I’ve realized when sharing about infant loss, loss parents have two options:
1) Omit the facts and pretend it didn’t happen
or
2) Learn to feel comfortable with making others uncomfortable.
1. Conversational Awkwardness
Loss parents are often at the mercy of conversational surprises. They occur consistently, and the predictable nature of others’ reactions can be eye-roll inducing. Here are just two recent ones:
My husband ran into an acquaintance after many years. The old friend asked him if he has any children now. So, there it was: answer truthfully or spare the man from being uncomfortable. Chris shared the loss of our baby girl two years ago along with news of our baby on the way.
Predictably, the friend abruptly changed the subject. Moments later the conversation ended.
Related: The “Awkward” In Grief
I attended a Gestational Diabetes class a few weeks ago, and I was first to start the dreaded round-the-table introductions. The command was to share our name and one word that described how we were feeling.
“My name is Jessica, and the word I’ve picked to describe my feelings is ‘conflicted.’”
I could have left it at that, but I was asked if I cared to elaborate. I had a choice: answer truthfully and make everyone uncomfortable or spare others by omitting the truth. I chose the truth.
I saw the flicker of panic in the dietician’s eyes as she scanned the other pregnant women at the table, worried that I might upset them. I glossed it over, saying I didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable or scare them. I felt ‘conflicted’ because I’d lost my first baby so unexpectedly, so I felt I had no right to be bummed with a diagnosis of Gestational Diabetes since I’m lucky to be pregnant again.
I shared my truth at the peril of everyone else’s comfort, potentially singling myself out.
These interactions either leave us feeling invalidated or as though it’s our job to make others around us feel better.
2. Social Media Faux Pas
Social media accounts enable us to share our lives with the world. Best used, of course, to portray the ideals of happiness. We love to click the ‘Like’ button for happy things.
I can post a cute photo of my dog and receive 100+ likes. If I post my latest article about loss, I might get 10-15 likes. Why is it that something I am truly proud of is hardly acknowledged, yet the ordinary things get so much attention? Because infant loss makes everyone uncomfortable. People scroll on past because, god forbid, they face a crummy reality.
The lack of support outside the loss community is never more blinding than it is on social media, the very place we’re encouraged to share what’s important to us. Avoidance has become the new acceptance, and it’s irritating.
Related: Social Media After Baby Loss: Who Do You Let In?
3. False Assumptions
Another source of social frustration is the tendency of others to make incorrect assumptions about grief. My husband and I are expecting our second child; because we are celebrating this pregnancy, people assume we’ve healed completely. We appear happy, so our grief must be gone, right?
Wrong.
One child does not replace another, and our firstborn will always be missing from our family. That sadness remains. However, grief and joy can coexist.
As loss parents, it’s essential that we’re allowed to honor all our children. They’re part of who we are, and we deserve to share our truth as much as anyone else.
When it comes down to it, acknowledgment and compassion are the kindest gifts loss parents can receive.
——
Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash
Jessica Orlaske is the mother of beautiful little Lucy Rose, whom she was only able to spend a precious day with after suffering a placental abruption. Though the loss of Lucy has transformed her life into one of heartache and challenges, Jessica continues to search for Lucy’s light in all things and find ways to honor her sweet daughter with love and kindness. She has found healing through writing and sharing her story with others.
Terri Bierhalter says
I’m proud of you for choosing the truth, and hope that it allows a tiny bit of comfort, if not healing. I will always love ALL of your babies…
Jessica Orlaske says
Thanks, Mom… you’re always my biggest supporter. I love you!
Kara Meyers (Brien) says
I just want to say that every time an article of yours comes up on my feed I click and read it! I should be better about “liking” when I do, and I bet I’m not the only one. I know am just a former student but reading about Lucy and your experiences as a loss parent has changed the way I communicate about loss in general. You’re making an impact by sharing your thoughts and feelings! I’d even guess that the awkward conversations get people thinking about how better to respond in the future. Doesn’t help in the moment, but I think it’s still a positive thing.
Also, sorry to hear about the GD diagnosis. That’s got to be tough to deal with, and you shouldn’t feel guilty if you’re a bit miserable. Anyway, you’re in my thoughts often and I wish you a smooth remainder of your pregnancy. Have a good day!
Jessica Orlaske says
Thanks so much, Kara. It makes my heart glad to know that my articles have had a positive impact and has provided a different insight… thank you for sharing that with me, and validating our sweet Lucy’s life. Best wishes to you today and always!!