My baby died. It is the most tragic thing that has
happened in my life. I know it makes you uncomfortable. I know you want to help.
Please try, but do not try to fix me.
Share your faith with me. It helps mine be stronger,
but do not try to tell me how I should feel if I really believe. Believing, even
knowing, does not remove grief.
Do not tell me there is hope in Jesus and expect it
to take away the pain. I know the doctrine - it offers me great comfort and it
helps me endure, but does not replace the presence of my beloved
child.
Do not tell me that I will see my child again as
though I have forgotten in my grief. I know that, but it does not make me miss
her less now, or take away the loneliness.
Do not belittle the short time she had as though she
had no power to touch others. Her life has greater meaning than those minutes
and her mission reached beyond her own life
Do not tell me she was perfect as though the honor of
having a perfect child should compensate for her absence. I know she was
perfect, I felt her.
Do not try to comfort me by telling me it would have
been hard to care for her with the problems she had. I loved and wanted her
anyway and I was willing to face any hardship for her.
And please do not tell me she is happier now as
though I should be glad to let her go. It is the absence of her joyful spirit
that leaves such a void now.
It is the motive behind your words that makes them
appropriate or not. I can feel when you love me, or when you are trying to
educate me out of my loss.
Please do not ignore my loss and avoid me. Please
have the courage to ask me how I am, even if you fear my tears. You don't have
to know what to say, I will understand. I just want to know you care.
Please tell me you are sorry, or that you would like
to take it away my pain if you could.
Tell me you love me and would have liked to know my
child. It may cause me pain if you mention her name but I need you to do so,
because it will also offer me the comfort that someone other than just me
remembers her, and I need to know that. Fumbling words from a sincere heart mean
more to me than trite phrases that sound good on the surface.
If you tell me that I can call you if I need
anything, I won't do it. I may not be capable of asking for help when I need it
most, or I may not be able to ask for what I really need.
If you offer something and I do not want it today, I
may need it tomorrow, so please do not be offended if I refuse your offer. My
feelings change frequently, and sometimes I may not even know what it is I need.
I appreciate it so much when someone truly listens to the Holy Spirit and
performs a kind and thoughtful act.
If I feel anger at God, it does not mean I lost my
faith. It just means this is so big and so heartbreaking that I do not
understand why the Lord let it happen the way it did. But I will in time. I know
He has a plan for me and this will work for my good. I am still confused and
hurt that it happened, but I still have faith. I know there are blessings in
this, I have felt them. I know they were worth it, but I still hurt.
Please bring meals or flowers if you want to. They
are a tangible reminder that someone cared enough to take time to try to comfort
me. But also stop to listen so I know it is more than just a gesture.
And give me the time I need - it might be much longer
than you think. Do not try to rush me through to being ok again.
Do not try to fix me. I am not broken. I am only
grieving. Just love me, and I will survive.
