Becka Burke, my friend and graduated Writers Boot Camp cadet, experienced one of life’s most tragic losses. Within moments of giving birth, her precious baby, Andy, died. She’s been courageously fighting back with joy, but sometimes the grief is just too much.
I asked her to share what have been among the most hurtful and helpful responses from her friends. Burke (who is on instagram and twitter) shares:
1. Clichés and empty platitudes cut extra deep.
Grief is hard because of the fog and murkiness that overtakes your brain. Perhaps this is a hidden gift of grief, a kind of protection. The same fog that blurs also protects, because no one wants to remember all the junk people say.
Some empty platitudes to avoid:
“God needed another angel in heaven.”
“Time will heal things.”
“At least you have two other children.”
2. Clichés and empty platitudes aren’t expressions of love.
As the months rolled by, I realized that platitudes are a cop out. They exist to make the person feel better about themselves, comforting themselves that they have something to say.
Repeating phrases you’ve heard over and over again—and maybe even believing them does not make them true for someone else. I’d encourage people to think about what you’re saying. It’s true that time does heal things, but saying that three days after I buried my baby isn’t helpful.
3. Instead of clichés and empty platitudes let me know you’re with me.
Text me Scriptures. Let me know I’m in your thoughts and prayers. Invite me out to lunch or to a movie just to laugh and get away from it all. Some days I may not be up for it, but on the days I am, you’re breathing life into my soul.
4. Love me even though I’m a wreck.
Just recently I ran into a mom with a newborn. She looked tired, run down, in need of a tube concealer.
“How’s it going,” I asked.
“I’m beyond exhausted because the baby needs to be fed throughout the night,” she said.
I didn’t have a response. I secretly wished that I was the one needing a glob of concealer beneath my baggy eyes. I wanted to be the sleepless one because of newborns’ hunger cries. Instead I was taking copious amounts of Ambien so that my PTSD from losing a child wouldn’t take over. This simple comment turned into a slashing of my heart.
This woman didn’t do anything wrong in the slightest. It’s just that after the loss of a baby, we’re extra sensitive with red-hot emotions as we mourn.
You may be tempted to stay away. Don’t. Come near. I may be a wreck, but I need you to love me through it.
5. Please say my baby’s name aloud.
If possible, say the baby’s name aloud. Don’t shy away from it. Let the momma know you miss her baby, tell her you think of her baby (what it would be doing developmentally, what stage it might be at, what it would look like). A mother’s biggest fear is that her baby will be forgotten.
Becka put together this video to better equip you to love those facing a similar crisis.
(RSS Subscribers, click here to view.)
What advice or wisdom do you have for those who want to offer comfort and encouragement to those have experienced infant loss?
What are some of the worst things that have been said to you?
What are some of the best?
This is a brilliant article, very compassionate and wise. I will be reposting this to my 12,000 social media followers
When I lost my 18-year-old daughter to SUDEP in 2012, a number of her friends sought me out on my Facebook page. I was grateful; hearing their stories about Meghan and seeing the evidence of love for my child was a healing balm for me. However, there was one girl whose only contribution to the conversation was to say, repeatedly, “It’s God’s will.”
Hearing that cut me like a knife in those early days. It still does, to a lesser degree. At the time, God and I were barely on speaking terms – and when I DID speak to Him, it was usually to curse and rail and despair – so telling me that it was His “will” that my beautiful, vibrant, funny child should have to leave me so soon was really just kind of asinine and naive.
The sad truth is, there really are NO words that can be said to a grieving parent in this situation; whether you had your child with you for five minutes, five years, or five decades, the pain of losing him or her is simply too great for words to touch it. The best thing anyone can do when presented with a friend or family member in this situation is to hold their hand, let them cry, and tell them that you love them.
This truth rings within my heart. Having a 2nd trimester miscarriage in 1975 my heart was blessed by your story and your suggestions. This January 18, 2015 my granddaughter, Victoria Cathering was born with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrom. On February 10, 2015 she succumbed to complications surrounding her first open heart surgery. We had our “bean” for 23 days. We have had some wonderful responses, and some not so wondeful things as well. Thank you for your openness, Beka! And think you, Margaret for sharing Beka’s story.
Thanks, Ed. Great to hear from you.
You are right, Angela. No words that can relieve.
Praying for you and your family. Thank you for sharing your brave story.
Thank you for sharing, Arla. So sorry for your terrible losses. Huge hug to you.
Aria, thank you for valuing life and sharing about Victoria. She is loved and missed. Much love to your family.
Thank you for sharing Margaret and to your sweet friend Becka as she boldly shares her story. My heart breaks for hers. I too, know the pain of losing a baby before you can even hear their first cry. This past October, we lost our 4th child, Samuel David, when I had a miscarriage half way through my pregnancy. We went to find out the gender, and instead found a still baby. It was devastating. The Lord, almost immediately, gave us another sweet child. We were beyond shocked but overjoyed nonetheless. However, in April of this year, once again half way through our pregnancy, we learned that our Jonathan James had died. Exactly 6 months apart, I gave birth to two beautiful, perfectly formed, yet utterly lifeless boys. The devastation wrecked me. But the Lord, in His steadfast goodness, has been so faithful to us. He has comforted us with His Word, through His teaching and brought people along this journey to love us through this difficult season. I know that He is using the short lives of our sons to bring glory to His name. What an amazing thing! Isn’t that what I want for all my children – to be used for God’s glory? I rejoice because I know God is using this suffering for such good.
I agree with so much of Becka’s suggestions. As for advice I would add:
For gifts to give the grieving parents- we were given a few rose bushes and a tree in memory of our boys. My friend said “not only will these roses remind you of your sweet boy(s) but also of God’s love and faithfulness through this time.” What truth and what a beautiful gift. Those plants mean so much to us.
I also would add to remember Dad. He lost a child too and I saw first hand how so many people seemed to comfort and support me as the mom and forgot about my husband. Even my husband found that he would take the kids and tend to them as I grieved, pushing down his own grief and not allowing himself to process the loss in a healthy way. He lost his baby too. Please remember him.
Pray- please pray for us. Pray with us. Tell us you’re praying. Ask what you can be praying for. Do it right afterward, a month after, a year after. I can’t tell you what a blessing it was(and still is) knowing that people were crying out to God on our behalf.
Lastly, I’d add for those who are grieving as well as those walking with them in the grief: give grace freely. For those walking alongside us- give grace as we battle the normal emotions of grief. Happiness, sadness, anger, guilt, confusion. All normal emotions that seem to rear their head at unpredictable times. We might become overly protective of our other children (I had extreme anxiety following our losses with lots of illogical fears which made me not want my children to go anywhere without me for fear they too would die), we might not want people over because our house is a mess, we might not be able to celebrate your baby shower or a holiday. Please give us grace, especially when we least deserve it.
For us who grieve- let us give grace to those who come around us. Let us accept the meals and the gestures of support. Let us remember that silence is worst than clichés and be grateful for those who try to say something, even if it comes out wrong. Let us give grace to our families who also lost a grandchild, a nephew/niece, a sibling. They love us, they loved our child and they grieve too. May we have the clarity to see that and be gracious to others.
Lots of love to you all.
I had an early loss a couple years after my first child…no words can express, just be there. Some time later something occurred and I was told It’s a good thing you don’t have two kids. I was speechless, still hurts and it has been many years. Think or just say nothing…
“Think or just say nothing…” Finding that as so true, no matter what the loss. Thank you for sharing, Kit.
Sweet Jennifer, I’m so sorry for your loss of Jonathan and Samuel.
I love the idea of rosebushes. What a thoughtful gift.
Thank you for the reminder to remember the daddies in this, too. So important.
These thoughts are very special. The thoughts also apply to any time there is the loss of a child. I was camping with my oldest sister and brother-in-law when I was 9 years old. Their 3 boys(ages 6 ,5 and the baby) were with us, too. We were having a wonderful time. We ate breakfast and decided to go swimming in the lake. There was an area roped off and we all stayed in that area and threw a ball back and forth. At one point, we noticed that the 5 year old was not in the water. Everyone started looking for him. Soon, the lifeguards entered the water and came out with him in their arms. He had drowned. We will never know what exactly happened. But, it was and still is devastating to this day and I am 54 years old. There are days that my sister and brother-in-law can talk about him and some days, we don’t mention him. He was truly a special gift from God, as are their other children. The loss of a child is something that affects us all forever. Thank you for sharing your heart. Prayers and actions truly help.
Thank you for sharing this! We lost our sweet Isaac 13 years ago when I was 29 weeks pregnant. One of the things my husband and I prayed for was that God would give us a glimpse of the good that He would bring from our loss. And He has answered that prayer so many times over that I’ve lost count! A friend gave his life to Christ after we shared our testimony, and we’ve been able to grieve and talk with several families as they’ve walked through infant loss too, most recently friends from church who lost their blessing, also Isaac, at full term. It’s hard each time, but I am so glad my husband had the forethought to pray that. It is now our prayer for others facing the loss of a child. That is my suggested prayer.
Also…remember the grandparents. My in-laws have been hurt over and over by their church when it seemed like they were “done grieving”. They have been church-hoppers ever since, never completely trusting a church family. I hurt for them that they didn’t receive the same love and care that we and my parents did.
Margaret, thank you for sharing this beautiful post. Becka, please know that you are in my heart.
It’s been 4 years since I lost my dear husband. I think one of the best things a friend could offer to a grieving friend is a permission to grief, to mourn, and to cry. During my early days, it was hard for me to think and digest. Giving advices didn’t really help me. But I found comfort when a friend came and was willing to cry with me. And also, it’s easy for us, the grieving moms/spouse/family, to feel forgotten, so when friends suddenly come at the front door or warm messages/emails appear in the inbox, we surely feel less alone and less forgotten.