
You can never truly know what it is like to lose a child until you have been there.
I remember when my oldest was just a toddler and I had a panic moment in which I wondered what I would do, what I would feel, if I lost him. That moment of sheer terror was nothing compared to what I actually experienced the day I watched my daughter, our 5th born, slip from life into death in a small town ER.
That day, I became a different person.
On my blog, Raising Arrows, I speak freely of what it is like to be a grieving mother and because we were staying with friends the day our daughter died, I know how very difficult and very helpless the friends of those who grieve feel when it comes to offering any kind of comfort to those they love so much.
So, what can you do when your friend is grieving the loss of their child?
*Realize nothing you say or do will take the pain away. So often, we want to fix things for our friends. We don’t want them to hurt. So, we talk and talk and do and do when all along we should just…
*Listen. A true friend is one who listens much more than they talk. But even if it seems as if your grieving friend doesn’t want to talk…
*Be available. I have found that grieving parents, especially mothers, have moments where their grief comes gushing out. They need to know that you are there when that moment happens and you won’t be scared away by the intense and raw emotions they feel and speak.
*Never say you know how they feel. Only another grieving parent has the right to that claim. Losing your grandparent, your parent, or even a spouse is not the same as the grief of losing a child. There may be similarities, but now is not the time to bring them up. Additionally, this is not the time to tell them you almost lost one of your own children. Almost is not the same.
*Never expect your friend to be the same person they were. I will never be able to stay with my friend in her house again. The memories hurt too much. I know that has been difficult for her, but she never expected it of me either. I also do not handle fevers in my children very well. I stay up all night and stare at them, begging the Lord to keep me calm. I am a different person and many of the decisions I make concerning my children are based on the fact that I now grieve the loss of one of them.
In those dark months following the death of a child, your friend really just needs you. They need you to check up on them. They need you to offer some sense of normalcy. They need you to speak their child’s name and never, ever forget. They need you to love them through it all.
If you are looking for more resources to help your friend through the loss of a child, you can visit Amy’s Grieving Mother page where you will find helpful articles and a free eDevotional for those who grieve.
Amy is the mother of 6 (soon to be 7) living children and one precious little girl named Emily, who sits at the feet of Jesus. Her days are filled with sticky kisses and deep discussions. At night, she writes about it all on her blog Raising Arrows.
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Beautiful article and much appreciated. I have a friend was pregnant alongside me and who lost her daughter right after my daughter was born and I had no idea what do say or do. Now I know if I (God forbid) ever find myself in that position again.
As a mother who just lost her child, your article is a perfect way to share with friends what we need during this time.
(hugs)
saying a prayer for Peace for your family. {{{HUGS}}} from a mom who has lost 2 children.
Thank you so much. We have long time family friends who just lost their 18 year old son in a tragic car accident. This was perfect timing.
Thank you for your post. I know miscarriage is not the same as losing a child, but I am struggling with how to support my sister, who had her 4th miscarriage on Monday. She wants so much to start a family, having reached 9 weeks they had already seen the hb and were sure this was it. All my pregnancies have been easy and uneventful. I dont know what to do or say except to hug her, cry with her and tell her how sorry I am. Thank you again for sharing.
No miscarriage isn’t the same, but certainly don’t discount the pain. A baby is a baby and your sister-in-law’s pain is at a whole new level. I can’t personally speak to the pain of infertility, but I know it’s awful. (In fact, someone is writing about that coming soon!)
april- as a mom who has lost 3 to miscarriage and one to stillbirth as well as having 5 living children, i can tell you that each and every mom processes things very differently. in many, many ways a miscarriage is very much like losing a baby- in some very significant ways it is not. just as losing a child is in some ways like losing a baby and in some ways it is very much not. often times the greatest agony comes from the denial of society to recognize the validity of your grief and the precious personhood of the babies that were not seen by the “outside” world. may i recommend a webzine called “still standing” as a place to find specific resources for facing miscarriages/infertility/stillbirth/adoption loss etc? i could ramble on but please do consider reaching out to your sister and finding out what her heart needs. that is a very lonely road to travel and is often fraught with misconceptions, unintentional hurts, and shear frustration. blessings-
April – I have lost 4 babies to miscarriage and 2 were back to back this past winter. Miscarriage is definitely different from losing a child you have held in your arms, but it is painful just the same. If you will, it is a different shade of grief, but grief just the same. She isn’t going to want to hear things like “Oh, you’ll have a baby eventually” and things like that that totally discount the life/lives she was carrying and lost. Some people think of miscarriages as replaceable babies and while having a living child does help you heal in so many ways, it doesn’t take away the grief. You are doing well by her to just be there for her, cry with her and let her grieve.
I am a momma who lost many of my babies to miscarriages…I thought I knew grief. I then carried a special needs baby, who required many surgeries after her (miraculous) birth, and we “almost” lost her. A year later, we adopted a special little guy who was not supposed to live, and we jumped on another roller coaster of God’s miracles and the medical world’s terrors. Just less than a year after that, our 2nd oldest, 23 at the time, went home to be with Jesus. Some people don’t understand that he was still my child…my baby. He had suffered with mental illness all of his life. He had been in and out of mental hospitals since he was 11 years old. Jail, prison, rehabs, homeless…and worse. And due to all of that, I held him tightly in my heart, as if he were still a tiny child…because in so many ways, he was. His loss hit me hard in a dozen different directions. For days I could not breathe without weeping. It has been 2 years, this July, and still, there are moments where the grief comes over me like a Tsunami. As a Christian, I feel the pressure from my fellow Christians to let go of this grief–to give it to God. And I wish I could tell them that I have–in truth, I do feel that I have. But even Jesus wept at the loss of a loved one. A child, expressly a sick child…one who needs so much of you…they hold SO much of you! The thing that hit me the hardest, aside from losing my child, was that my best friend did not even offer a single word of comfort…not a card, note, call, FB message…nothing. She was so uncomfortable with the thought of it all, that she just didn’t know what to say. I needed her to say something. To acknowledge my grief. I am glad that Gregory left this earth and went to live a life of peace, free from his illness and all the things that hurt him so deeply. But that does not negate my deep burning desire to hold my boy…just one more time. I love that people still remember him and want to talk about him. I NEED to talk about him. He is not gone from my heart or my memories…just gone from this earth.
I am so sorry. I still grieve, but I am not without hope. It is so, so important for people to just say something. To just remember.
I agree, people need to remember and not be afraid. Also (we) as the hurting parent can say to the friends or family that “hey it is okay to talk about our child, we want you to remember them”.
I love your posts on raising arrows and always find your words helpful!
Thank you, Esther.
Thank you for your post, Amy. My best friend’s son just passed away three weeks ago and I want to help her so very badly. I need to remember that what she needs most of me is just a listening ear and love.
I’m not the same either. Every time there is a call out of the ordinary from my husband, or out of the blue I wake up in a panic that will not be soothed without the staring down a sleeping child. <3