What to Say (and Consequently What NOT to Say) to Grieving Moms and Dads

Just because it's pretty

I have put my foot in my mouth more times that I'd like to count. I'm good at it. It's a gift. I remember talking with a friend's sister and finding out she had separated from her husband. I don't remember what I said, but it was the wrong thing for sure and everyone knew it. I meant well. I wasn't trying to be mean, but I'm pretty sure I hurt some feelings. So this post is in no way meant to condemn people who love us who have also said stupid things. It is more aimed at helping people know how to better understand what we are dealing with so that they can be sensitive to us and others who are grieving.

1. Should Say: I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you must be feeling. (Should not say: "I know exactly how you feel! I lost my second cousin twice removed that I only see every other year at Easter"). This is true: Unless you have experienced something comparable to losing a child you really aren't able to fully understand. Not that your help is invalid or that we can't talk about it, but even people who have also experienced similar losses grieve totally differently. The truth is, I don't even know what I'm feeling half the time so how could you know what I'm feeling?

2. Should say: I'm going to do _______ for you at ________ time, does that work for you? (Should not say: let me know what you need). Especially when a loss first happens it is hard to know what you need or want. In fact, the only thing you can even think to ask for is a time machine so you can go back and undo your loss. I had many lovely people ask me if there was anything they could do for me. It was encouraging to know that people cared, but the truth was, I had no idea what I needed. It wasn't that I didn't need anything, it's that I couldn't think of anything beyond this blinding loss. So when I read an article saying that you should just tell a grieving person what you were going to do to help, I found myself nodding at the screen.

3. If you have experienced something similar, I might actually want to know, especially if we are friends (strangers, not so much) but it should be done like this: "I just wanted you to know that we went through something similar. If you ever need to talk just let me know. I can talk any time." Notice that the friend did not explain their situation in great detail. I might not be ready to grieve with you yet or have the ability to comfort you at that time. They also did not tell some horrifying story from some far off relative who lost three babies in a row (you can't make this stuff up people, it happened a few days ago. You want to be truly cruel?Imply something this awful could happen more than once).

4. When in doubt, say nothing. In the first few days after The World Ended the people who completely disarmed me into a crying puddle were the ones who just looked at me with this intense compassion I can't even describe. It was like they got it and no words were necessary. This rule also goes for when you really don't know what to say. It is so much better to hug me and say nothing than to say something that, however unintentional, is hurtful.

5. I'm still praying for you. I was talking with a friend who also lost a baby several years ago and she said something that I am unfortunately finding to be true. People will give you about a month to be well on your way to recovery. May I first tell you this is absurd. Secondly, I understand why people think this way. After a month the wound isn't raw and gaping. People grieve with you at first and they grieve as long as they can. Most friends grieve with you strongly in the beginning. But the truth is, just like I have a family I need to care for so I put on a brave face, so too they have a life that is mostly separate from mine. I understand that they have moved on, even if I may never really get to that stage. What I'm saying is, not that you should live in sadness with the grieving person all the time, but when you are talking, let them know you understand that their suffering isn't over yet and you will be praying for them as they struggle through. Don't imply that they should be further along in the grieving process than they are. "No being depressed now!" Said with a finger wave and a smirk is not helpful (again, you can't make this stuff up).

6. Validate the father. People understand that mothers grieve. They allow for it and make necessary adjustments in their conversation and activities. People forget about the father. They grieve too only they are the backbone of the family and are required by society to quickly swallow and move on. People forget that fathers have experienced the same level of loss as the mother. Fathers need people to ask how they are doing (and mean it). Fathers need people to call them and invite them for coffee or a guy's night. Fathers need prayer and compassion. Fathers need a shoulder to cry on and an ear to hear their sorrows and help them heal.

Conclusion? The best thing to keep in mind is compassion. Are you saying something to love them or are you trying to fix them? Because there is no "fixing" someone who has lost a child (or in our case, two). Unless you have a time machine. Do you have one? Can I borrow it?

Jillian