There is so much pain in our community right now. The tragedies seem relentless. The year isn't quite half way over, and already I'm tempted to pull out my "Bad things that happened in 2015" list and write "YOU WIN" in angry, bold letters at the bottom. But I'm not going to do that.
But me, I'm not giving up. I'm sticking around to see what God will do. I'm waiting for God to make things right. I'm counting on God to listen to me. (Micah 7:7, Msg)I wish that I had something profound to say to those grieving right now. I don't. I can't claim to understand what it is like to lose an older child, to lose a mother or a father, to lose a sibling, or to lose a spouse. I know what it is like to lose an unborn child, but as odd as it may sound, I can't even claim to understand the pain of someone going through stillbirth. In fact, when someone relays a story of stillbirth to me, I usually exclaim, "I can't imagine!" The first time I said it, I laughed at myself thinking I had said it out of habit, but then I realized I was right. I can certainly relate to someone else's situation, but I can't imagine someone else's pain. Our pain isn't the same because we aren't the same.
I've seen a lot of posts about what others should do when someone they love is grieving, but I haven't seen much advice for the grievers. I have four months of experience in grieving. It isn't a lot, but I can offer up what little insight I've gained in these last few months. Maybe it will help someone. Or maybe it won't help anyone but me on those days when I need to remember what I believe. Either way, here goes:
- There is no right or wrong way to grieve. You'll probably be given a whole library of books that tell you about the stages of grief and how to get through them. Some of the advice might be helpful; some of it won't be. I remember reading a book a month or so after my son died that said shock after a loss was expected, but that if it lasted longer than a few days, it was unhealthy. I closed that book and never finished reading it. Whoever wrote that statement obviously never went through the shock of losing a baby that you had been preparing to bring home for 8 months. Knowing what to expect in grief can be good, as long as you know that it is okay if your grief doesn't fit someone else's timeline. Listening to other's suggestions of ways to get through grief can be helpful, as long as you know that it is okay if support group meetings or online forums or memorial displays/gardens or fill-in-the-blanks aren't your thing.
- Cut others some slack. There will be people, mostly well-intentioned, who will say and do the wrong thing in trying to comfort you. There will be people who won't say or do anything at all. Both will hurt you. Forgive them as best you can. I know it seems unfair that as the one who is grieving, you should be the one to offer comfort, grace, and compassion to someone else, but try to do it when you can. I've found that most people genuinely want to make things better...in situations where fixing things is impossible though, many just don't know what to do. This isn't to say that you should ignore hurtful comments or actions. When I've been offended or hurt, I've tried to gently educate the person on how I am feeling or what is helpful to me so that they can comfort me in the way that I need.
- Cut yourself some slack. I have spent the last two months feeling guilty about the unsent thank-you's to people who brought us meals and sent us gifts. In the first few weeks after getting home from the hospital, writing those cards gave me something to do. But as the time passed, writing the phrase "Thank you for such and such that you did following the death of our son" on pretty stationary became more and more difficult. So I stopped. I know it isn't the polite or courteous thing to do. But I also know that the people who truly care about me will continue to do so long after their casserole dish is returned without a thank you card.
- Find joy whenever and wherever you can. This is easier said than done when your heart is broken, but when you can find some joy, even in something small, it helps. On the day we delivered Morris, I came across Psalm 94:19, "When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul." That verse has become my anthem, and it has allowed me to experience some pretty amazing things despite my broken heart. I held my Godson just hours after his birth. I saw my niece learn to walk and heard her say my name for the first time. I walked with a team of friends and family in a 5k celebrating and honoring my son and other children's lives. I am so glad I didn't miss out on those things, because those things have little-by-little helped restore some of the faith I lost.
If a list of four things seems somehow incomplete, it's because it is. Grieving is a life-long process. It wasn't intentional that this list contains four things, but I guess four lessons learned is symbolic for four months spent grieving. When I figure out what lesson number five is, I'll let you know.
Love,
Mommy
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