Things To Say (And Not To Say!) To Grieving People
Dear friends,
Over the past few weeks, my staff and I have been reflecting on our work with parents grieving the loss of a wanted pregnancy or child. We have been privileged to sit with parents in their grief and learn from their lived experiences.
When a loved one experiences a profound loss, friends and family can find themselves struggling to find the right words to say. Our culture doesn’t handle death gracefully, and an individual’s own complicated feelings around loss can make it hard to see what the other person needs. Unfortunately, sometimes the words that do come out can bring more pain to those we are seeking to help. Friends and family want to be a source of solace but they don’t always know how.
In my work, my patients can also be my teachers who help me to more intimately understand loss and love. I hope to honor our collective wisdom with a list of what I have found to be the most common pitfalls when trying to support a parent grieving a wanted pregnancy or child (along with some options that might be more helpful). Perhaps, this will help some of you to support a friend or family member or maybe there’s someone in your life who is struggling with what to say who will appreciate it if you forward it to them because we all want to do better.
Everything happens for a reason. The loss of a pregnancy or child violates the expected order of the world. We expect our children to outlive us. It is tempting to explain away this discomfort by saying that loss must be a part of a greater purpose. For loss parents, there is no plan involving the loss of their pregnancy or child that will be comforting. At worst, this statement can bring up misplaced feelings of responsibility—what have I done to deserve or cause this. Instead, into the discomfort about the depth of the loss. If you wish to acknowledge the far-reaching impact of the pregnancy or child, you could say, “Even though they were only with you a short time, they were so loved already.”
The baby is in a better place. There is no better place for a baby than in their parents’ arms. While some parents may find comfort in a spiritual tradition, it is best not to thrust our own spiritual beliefs onto them or to infer that the baby is better off far away from them. The same goes for cliches like, “God needed another angel” which implies a God who chose this pain and suffering for them specifically. Rather than try to solve their grief, instead choose to empathize with their loss. Say, “I am so sorry. Please know that I want to be with you through this and will hold you in my heart.”
You aren’t sent more than you can handle. While intended to encourage a grieving person, these comments indirectly imply that the parent’s strength is the reason for their loss. Or conversely, if they are struggling, they are somehow failing to live up to their calling as parents after a loss. We often make comments like this when we want to validate our loved ones, and we can accomplish that by affirming their love for their child, “You loved your baby so well. You were a great parent to them.”
Time heals all wounds. Death is permanent, and time will not bring back what is lost. While we mean to offer parents hope for healing, statements like this can accidentally imply that with time parents will forget. Memories offer parents a chance to connect to the love they had for their pregnancy or baby. Instead, we can hold space for parents to remember. If we have our own memory, we could offer to share it or we could say, “Take all the time you need to grieve. I am available to listen anytime.”
I don’t think I could survive this. This well-meaning phrase comes from the depth of our own grief for loss parents or even our own imagined grief for ourselves. While intended to convey empathy, it can sometimes leave parents feeling isolated. They have no choice but to survive, and yet it can feel like an accusation that they haven’t succumbed to a broken heart. We can convey empathy better by centering their experience instead of our own. We can say, “I cannot know exactly what you are feeling, but whatever you are feeling, I am here for you now and in the future. You will not be alone.”
At least… Any sentence starting with these words is preparing to minimize. People tell families, “At least you know you can get pregnant,” or “At least, you have other children,” or “At least, you are young.” We may mean to give hope about the future, but instead what families hear is that their grief should be less. Knowing someone has it worse, doesn’t make us feel better about who we’ve lost. This pregnancy or baby cannot be replaced. We can honor that experience by acknowledging the baby by name (if named), or we could say, “I wish we could have had more time to know your baby. If you want to talk about them, I am here to listen."
“Did you…Have you…” When faced with the incomprehensible loss of a pregnancy or infant, our brains naturally seek to create meaning from the inexplicable to ensure this never happens again or to us. This sometimes manifests as overly probing questions about the parents’ choices prior to the loss or an excess of advice about how to handle their medical care moving forward. It is important to recognize that questioning can make some people feel judged rather than supported as parents who made their best choices with the information available to them. Instead of advice, we should offer practical support, “Can I drop off dinner or help with the laundry?”
You are handling this so well. OR You need to move on. It may be tempting to comment on how we think someone is doing to encourage them, but instead of comfort we are offering more expectations. Loss parents can find themselves trying to measure up on how to grieve “correctly.” Are they too functional because they didn’t love their baby enough? Are they too emotional and there’s something wrong with them? No, of course not. Each person’s experience will be unique. It can be normal to feel numb, angry, anxious, sad, frustrated, and much more—sometimes all at once. We can help by holding space for all those emotions and offering, “Please grieve however you need to and know I am here to listen.”
I know exactly how you feel. No one can know how someone else is feeling unless they tell us. While the experience of grief can be unifying, each individual loss is unique as the love that mirrored it. Please do not compare infant or pregnancy loss to other types of loss like a beloved pet, a job, or even a relative. If we have experienced a similar type of loss, it can be nice to empathize with something they’ve shared while refraining from centering ourselves. We could say, “I remember how hard it was after I lost my pregnancy/baby. Do you want to talk about how you are feeling?”
It was for the best. For whom? These types of comments often emerge when there was a health concern. The goal is to comfort, but instead it minimizes the loss. The best outcome would be a happy, healthy child in their arms. Instead of shying away from the complexity of their grief, we can say, “I am so deeply sorry for your loss. Please know I am thinking of you, and I will be checking in to see how I can help in the weeks to come.”
After listing out so many words and phrases to avoid, I want to end by highlighting how important it is to still say something. Silence can be deafening. Loved ones need to know that you see them, and when someone is grieving, you need to do the outreach. If you are worried about saying the wrong thing, keep it simple. Say you are sorry for their loss, and then show through your actions that you see them. You can donate in honor of them or their child. You can check in periodically and keep checking in long after. You can send a meal. You can mail a note, send a text, or write an e-mail. And you can make space for silence by holding space, You can say, “I’m here to just sit with you and keep you company even if you don’t feel like talking.”
Warmly,
Kellie Wicklund, LPC, PMH-C
Owner + Director
