I Need to Talk About The Loss of My Child
It is not my job to make you comfortable. So often, those of us who have lost a baby, or lost a child feel like we need to present our world in a nice package tied up with a bow, palatable for the masses. We feel like we can’t talk about our dead children because it makes people uncomfortable. But the truth is we too, are uncomfortable with our situation. I never expected to lose a daughter nine days after giving birth to her. I never expected to miscarry – what I believe to have been – twins. And after all that happened, I never expected to one day become a parent to a living child in the last years of my 30’s and into my 40’s. None of this went according to plan, and that makes me uncomfortable. I am the one who is grieving, and yet I am the one who needs to tread lightly around the subject of my dead child. I need my hand held, my pain eased, and yet I am the one hand holding and easing the pain of those around me.
A friend who lost one of her twins recently remarked to me that shortly after their loss, they got involved with a charity whose main focus was preemies and NICU babies. After some time, they were asked to be a featured family with that organization. But they were also told not to talk about their dead twin because they did not want to upset anyone. Of course, she said no and moved on. When I heard this story, I was outraged and yet not surprised, because the story was the living embodiment of what a bereaved parent deals with every single day.
And so I write this telling you that while it is not my job to make you comfortable with my child's death, I feel that it is my duty to shed light on a dark subject that so many of us are trying to cope with in private. It is not my job to censor myself or to avoid topics. If my daughter had lived, I could talk about her day and night, and no one would give it a second-thought. Because she's dead, I get unfairly judged and put in an awkward position. Death, and especially the death of babies and young children can be triggering, and while it is easy to avoid these topics, to avoid feeling pain, grieving parents get no such option.
How I Keep My Daughter’s Memory Alive:
My daughter mattered, my daughter was and still is my daughter, and she will be forever. When I was pregnant with her (after a long battle of infertility and miscarriage), I knew my daughter was a girl almost immediately. I had vivid dreams of seeing her. I held her in my arms for the first time as she took her last breaths in this world, and I knew then, and know now that her spirit,her soul, and her love transcended our earthly realm.
Because of my views on continuing to talk about my daughter, there are some who have chosen to adjust their relationships with me, sometimes cutting me out entirely. They claim they would have done things differently, or simply because they cannot deal with the subject any longer. To them, I say, “I don’t care.”
Being part of my life and my family's life means you have to accept the fact that I have lost a child, that I am still grieving that loss, and that I WANT to talk about it. We talk about Colette every single day. Our son, born after our loss, knows all about his sister. I truly believe that in a way that only children really can before they are tainted by societal norms which tell them they “can’t.” When I see my 19-month-old son, who sometimes just stares off into space in a peaceful, warm, loving way, I sometimes ask him if he is talking to his sister. Sometimes I will say, “tell Colette I miss her a lot,” and “that I wish she was here in this room with us right now.”
Message to Other Grieving Parents:
So, this is the message that I share with my fellow grieving parents: Your child remains part of you. You get to choose what that means for you, whether you talk about them constantly, often, occasionally, rarely, or never. Whatever you choose, it is the right way for you. Don't base that decision on what others tell you to do or wish you would do; base that decision on what feels right for you and only you. For me, what feels right is talking about her often, making sure she's part of our family, and sharing stories and memories of her (even though they are limited).
To non-loss parents or parents who lost and were told not to talk about their child: Guess what? Before we experienced loss, we too would have been uncomfortable with the loss of a child. And after experiencing it first hand, we can confirm, it didn’t become any less agonizing. It was, still is, and will forever be the most agonizing and excruciating topic to discuss, much less endure. Losing my child did not come with a manual on how to deal with the intolerable trauma. It still hurts every time I hear about another loss. It hits me hard. I get it.
How to Support Loss Parents:
So here is what you can do to help. The greatest gift you can give to any parent who has experienced the loss of a child is to let that parent open up to you. Let them talk to you about their child. I've written various articles over the years about what to do to support a loved one who is s grieving and there are a plethora of tips and tricks I can share with you. But at its core, the absolute best way to help is learning to put away that uneasy feeling temporarily, to work through the apprehension in a way that allows you to sit in grief with your loved one. Not to change, not to fix, not to give advice, but to sit there and to be there with your loved one for whatever they need, for however long they need it.
If you have someone in your life who has suffered a loss, whether it happened yesterday or decades ago, tell them how much you want to be there to support them. Ask them about their child if that’s what they want to discuss, Remember birthdays and holidays and everything else in between. Honor their child, honor them as a parent, honor their way of grieving
It's not my job to make you comfortable. But it is my job to help you understand how you can better support your loved ones.
Click here to learn more about the Colette Louise Tisdahl Foundation.
