Monday, September 13, 2010

What Not to Say...

I am reblogging this from  I have seen this list before, but it is definitely still applicable.  And although I don't necessarily feel that all of these statements apply to me, it is a good list and I would like to pass it along -- in the hopes that it might help someone who knows someone suffering from a loss, or someone who may be suffering themselves.

What We Wish You Knew About Pregnancy Loss:  
A letter from women to their friends and family 
by Elizabeth Soutter Schwarzer 

I assert no copyright for the material. Please use it as you see fit to help women who have endured this terrible grief. Thank you.

When women experience the loss of a child, one of the first things they discover they have in common is a list of things they wish no one had ever said to them.   The lists tend to be remarkably similar.  The comments are rarely malicious - just misguided attempts to soothe.

This list was compiled as a way of helping other people understand pregnancy loss.  While generated by mothers for mothers, it may also apply similarly to the fathers who have endured this loss. 

When trying to help a woman who has lost a baby, the best rule of thumb is a matter of manners:  don't offer your personal opinion of her life, her choices, her prospects for children.  No woman is looking to poll her acquaintances for their opinions on why it happened or how she should cope. 

  • Don't say, "Thank God you lost the baby before you really loved it."  I loved my son or daughter. Whether I lost the baby after two weeks of pregnancy or just after birth, I loved him or her. 
  • Don't say, "Isn't it time you got over this and moved on?"  It's not something I enjoy, being grief-stricken.  I wish it had never happened.  But it did and it's a part of me forever.  The grief will ease on its own timeline, not mine -- or yours. 
  • Don't say, "Now you have an angel watching over you."  I didn't want her to be my angel.  I wanted her to bury me in my old age. 
  • Don't say, "I understand how you feel."  Unless you've lost a child, you really don't understand how I feel.  And even if you have lost a child, everyone experiences grief differently. 
  • Don't tell me horror stories of your neighbor or cousin or mother who had it worse.  The last thing I need to hear right now is that it is possible to have this happen six times, or that I could carry until two days before my due-date and labor 20 hours for a dead baby.  These stories frighten and horrify me and leave me up at night weeping in despair.  Even if they have a happy ending, do not share these stories with me. 
  • Don't pretend it didn't happen and don't change the subject when I bring it up.  If I say, "Before the baby died..." or "when I was pregnant..." don't get scared.  If I'm talking about it, it means I want to.  Let me.  Pretending it didn't happen will only make me feel utterly alone. 
  • Don't say, "It's not your fault."  It may not have been my fault, but it was my responsibility and I failed.  The fact that I never stood a chance of succeeding only makes me feel worse.  This tiny little being depended upon me to bring him safely into the world and I couldn't do it.  I was supposed to care for him for a lifetime, but I couldn't even give him a childhood.  I am so angry at my body you just can't imagine. 
  • Don't say, "Well, you weren't too sure about this baby, anyway."  I already feel so guilty about ever having complained about morning sickness, or a child I wasn't prepared for, or another mouth to feed that we couldn't afford.  I already fear that this baby died because I didn't take the vitamins, or drank too much coffee, or had alcohol in the first few weeks when I didn't know I was pregnant.  I hate myself for any minute that I had reservations about this baby.  Being unsure of my pregnancy isn't the same as wanting my child to die -- I never would have chosen for this to happen. 
  • Do say, "I am so sorry."  That's enough.  You don't need to be eloquent.  Say it and mean it and it will matter. 
  • Do say, "You're going to be wonderful parents some day," or "You're wonderful parents and that baby was lucky to have you."  We both need to hear that. 
  • Do say, "I have lighted a candle for your baby," or "I have said a prayer for your baby."
  • Do send flowers or a kind note -- every one I receive makes me feel as though my baby was loved.  Don't resent it if I don't respond.
  • Don't call more than once and don't be angry if the machine is on and I don't return your call.  If we're close friends and I am not responding to your attempts to help me, please don't resent that, either.  Help me by not needing anything from me for a while. 

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