Let's talk about grief...

Every parent will remember the first breath of their child. I remember my daughter’s so clearly - the loud scream and the joyful relief it gave me. Not least because I’d been told with so much certainty that she wouldn’t be born alive.?

I remember her first breath. And I remember her last breath, 2 years 7 months and 7 days later. Both as clearly as if they happened yesterday.?

I belong to a very exclusive club of broken-hearted parents. A club no-one wants to join, and that you wouldn’t wish on anyone. A club that goes against the natural order of life, and brings a grief like no other. A grief I’m certain will never heal, and a broken heart that - like my daughter’s - will never be repaired.?

I’m sharing this because?9-15 October?marks Baby Loss Awareness Week, and October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. And because, frankly, we don’t talk about grief as much as we should. It’s often one of the most difficult and painful experiences a person can go through, but so often met with silence.?

I’ve often reflected over the past year that after my daughter was born, I was asked so many questions about her birth: did I have pain relief? How long was the labour? Was it a natural birth? How am I recovering?

After my daughter passed away, we received a tidal wave of sympathy through cards, texts and flowers. But after the initial deluge, it faded to a deafening silence.?

In our darkest days, weeks and months, our support network shrank, likely because people didn’t know what to say, or were scared of saying the wrong thing so they said nothing at all. So we were left with silence. A silence almost as painful as the loss itself.

And coupled with that silence is the quick removal of her name from peoples’ lips and Christmas cards received, almost as if she had never existed. I can see the tense awkwardness in the body of language of others when I mention her - a conversation quickly changing direction, again because of fear of saying the wrong thing or not knowing what to say.

The road through grief is not a smooth one. And I honestly don’t think the loss of a child is a grief that will ever get easier over time. I don’t think my heart will ever repair; I will think about my daughter and miss her every day for the rest of my life; I will think about all the ‘what ifs’ and carry the guilt of not doing and saying the things I wish I had, of feeling that I failed her as a mother.?

But those are the things I have to live with. Not you. All you can do is not be silent. Be present for someone who is grieving the loss of their child. Say their name. Listen when the grieving parent talks about their child; ask questions about them; don’t pretend they didn’t exist; and don’t avoid any of it because you’re worried about seeing them sad or are worried about how it will make you feel. Honestly, so many obscure things will bring memories - the smell of autumn, kiwi fruit, favourite songs and books - anything could make us sad, but it’s not on you. ?

I remember after my daughter passed away, among all the cards and flowers and well-wishes, a friend asked me to send her some pictures of Martha. Just pictures. It meant the world to me. Such a simple, thoughtful request during a time of immense pain and grief meant everything.?

So what can you do for friends, family and colleagues experiencing the loss of a child?

Show up.

Just be present for them. You don't need to turn up at their home unannounced, but a simple text to let them know you're there can mean so much. If you don't know what to say, keep it simple: "I'm thinking of you" works just fine. And keep it going long after the initial loss - even if you don't get a response. Sometimes we don't even have the words, but your message will count for a lot.

If you ask how a grieving parent is, be prepared for an honest answer.

Almost as bad as not saying anything at all, is being asked how you are and, when you give an honest answer, receiving no response. Being confronted with the realness of someone's pain is hard, I get it. But don't not acknowledge it. Whenever anyone is in pain, they're looking for comfort so don't deny them that.

As a grieving parent, there's so much you might want to say but not always find the words. When you do find the words, or are honest about your feelings, you need them to be validated, not ignored.

Send food.

Much like the early days after giving birth, after a loss the last thing that's on your mind is making a family meal.

Understand that the road to grief isn't linear.

Just because someone seems to be doing ok now - today - that's not to say that they will be tomorrow, next week, next month or next year. I've been floored by the range of emotions and feelings I've experienced on the grieving journey - it can quite literally take your breath away.

Remember and acknowledge important dates.

Birthdays and anniversaries are incredibly painful times - a reminder of what parents have lost; the ages and milestones no longer achieved.

Share your good news.

Just because we're hurting, it doesn't mean we can't find the joy in life. Your good news can still bring a smile to our faces. Obviously some news will be harder to take, but that doesn't mean we don't want to hear it. We won’t stop sharing in your joy just because our hearts are broken.

Avoid cliche.

"You're amazing." "Time heals." "At least..."

We don't share our story because we're looking for compliments or accolades, we're sharing because we either need to talk about it, or we want to raise awareness.

And if there's one thing you definitely shouldn't say, it's any sentence that begins with the words 'at least'.

Say their name.

If there’s one thing any parent who’s lost a child - of any age - will ask you to do: say their name.?Their child will always be their child; always part of their family; and will always have a name. If you don't know it - ask.

Read more about Baby Loss Awareness Week and how you can support someone you know here: https://babyloss-awareness.org/support/

#babylossawarenessweek #babylossawareness #worldmentalhealthday #BLAW #griefjourney #griefawareness #griefsupport #childloss