The wrong things

In amongst the attempts of comfort and support you will find that people can say and do the wrong things. They do not mean to hurt you and no doubt believe that what they are saying or doing will comfort you. It’s simply just their blissful ignorance to baby loss prevents them from knowing how harmful those things may be. It’s not really their fault, I mean you will never know how it feels to be a bereaved parent unless you actually are one. When we lost Noah my community midwife mentioned this to us and I thought surely not. I quickly realised that this was indeed true and found that some things people were saying to us did hurt and in fact didn’t provide any comfort, although they were aimed to. Some I found no comfort in then but in time have realised it is a great comfort, I was just too early in my grief for it to have been said.

We were told on a few occasions “at least you still have Oliver”, now this is probably one of my least favourite sayings. Yes we have Oliver and yes I am eternally grateful for this and I love him more than he will ever know but he is not Noah. Noah is his own person, completely different to Oliver and I love them both equally. Having Oliver does not numb the pain I feel for losing Noah, nor does it make it okay that his brother has died. Granted it may make it easier for us to get out of bed every day, because we have to but it does not lessen my pain or grief. I will never find comfort in this saying, ever. My living child does not take away the fact that my beautful baby died.

“He’s with his Nana, she will look after him and keep him safe”. We lost James’ mum two years ago to the dreadful big C and in the immediate days of our loss we were inundated with messaged telling us this. At the time everytime I saw those words on my screen I would scream inside “I should be looking after him, I am his mother and I failed to keep him safe”. At the time these words were strong reminders that I could not and never will be able to look after my own baby and I found no comfort in knowing he was somewhere I wasn’t, with someone that wasn’t me. For me it was too early for those words to be said, even though I know without a doubt that every single person meant nothing but love with them and would be saddened to think they made me feel worse than I already did. Now it’s a different story, I find immense comfort knowing that my beautiful boy is up there, where ever the wonderful place is we go when it’s our time, with his Nana. I know in the bottom of my heart that she would have been there that day, and taken him with great pride and love and is indeed looking after him in the best way she can until I can again. In fact I often find myself staring at her pictures asking her with all of my being to look after him and make sure he knows he is loved, something I never thought I would have to ask.

People avoided me, I’d walk into the nursery and instantly feel their eyes avert so quickly, it was as if they had just seen something they shouldn’t have. People who had once talked about how long I had left and as the days ticked by said “still going, then” said nothing. It was as if nothing had happened, as if Noah was never here. Now I know it’s because people simply do not know what to say when a baby dies, but at that time I wasn’t asking or wanting someone to talk to me about that. A simple smile to say I know you are in pain would have done just fine but the silence and averted gazes made me feel dirty, out of place and completely and utterly alone. It wasn’t only the physical sense people avoided me, friends I have had for years simply did not message until months later with a “what have you been up to”, completely avoiding the fact that my child had died. I wanted to reply with “oh you know just planning and attending my baby’s funeral, signing papers to have my child cremated, GRIEVING. Things that you would know if you had bothered to reach out”. But that would have achieved nothing and they probably didn’t understand the extent of what they had done anyway. I know these friendships will not be ones I will continue to hold on to, but I will also not dwell on the negatives and blame them for not being able to be there. I know people find it hard to reach out or simply bring up Noah out of fear of upsetting me, but nothing could hurt more than the fact he is no longer here.

“It’s hard for us too”. Now we know that baby loss does not only affect the parents however we, as parents, do not need you to tell us how hard this has all been for you, not in the early days at least. Our life stopped that day, whilst everyone else’s continued on, a piece of us died just like our child. So while we appreciate it is difficult for you, it is so much harder for us. One day we will be able to talk about how it affected everyone but the initial grief makes us selfish and quite rightly too, after all we lost our baby not anyone else.

My advice to anyone who knows someone who has lost a baby is to simply reach out but do not say too much, a subtle “I am so sorry, your baby is beautiful” is enough. Do not assume you know what could comfort them as everyone finds comfort in different things at different stages of their grief. Everyones grief is so different that not even I would assume to know another bereaved Mother’s comforters. Most importantly do not pretend their child did not exist, a bereaved parents biggest fear is that their child will be forgotten so a simple acknowledgment of their child will genuinely make their day and will definitely not upset them so do not be scared.

My advice to bereaved parents, take each thing that you do not like to be said with a pinch of salt. People mean no harm by these words and I can assure they are said from the most heartfelt place with an attempt of bringing you some comfort in your time of need. We need to remember that people, unless they have gone through what we have, do not know how we feel and they probably did not think that what they have done or said would upset you. We can not and must not blame them for their ignorance, their ignorance is a symbol of one person saved from the pain being a bereaved parent brings.