***Trigger warning*** This post is specifically about the feeling of loss as a parent. I’ll talk about failed IVF, failed adoption, infertility, pregnancy loss, stillbirth, and similar subjects that may be upsetting. If you feel you need support either with your mental health or you want help after becoming unexpectedly unexpectant, then visit my support page for links to appropriate help and information.
Please do not read on if you find these subjects triggering. This post has been written to be helpful, but the subject matter could be upsetting. Please stop at any moment if you feel sad, upset or overwhelmed.
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In just a few days we’ll see the start of baby loss awareness week. Because of my own experiences, I’m already receiving emails about events taking place online and around the world all with one important purpose – to help us all with managing the pain of losing a child.
I’ve thought for years about how to write this post, how to get across the unbelievable ache in your heart that you unexpectedly experience when you lose something you never even had. How do I talk about our losses without hurting others?
How can you possibly explain away the unwanted embarrassment society leaves you with when an expectancy turns into a loss?
I watched a gently funny program called ‘Trying’ on Apple TV recently, and I fell in love with the protagonist and her partner who were told early on in the series that they couldn’t conceive. The show follows their attempt to adopt and the obstacle course they have to navigate just to prove they’d make wonderful parents.
In one episode, the board finalising the permanent home for a young boy decide against the hero’s, choosing a family who could offer the boy a ready-made sibling instead.
The reaction to this news flooded my brain with memories of baby loss. As a parent who’s lived through miscarriage and stillbirth, I see their broken adoption as a very similar experience. Without delving too deeply into the triggering thoughts, I know how they will have planned excitedly for their arrival, only to have it snatched away for reasons completely outside of their control.
It’s heartbreaking.
Every loss is a huge weight on the heart, and no matter what any forward thinking, philosophically-minded friend or relative tells you, it stays with you FOREVER, and you should NEVER feel guilty, burdening, obsessive, stressed or silenced for acknowledging and wanting to discuss that weight.
In the episode, the heartbroken mum said something quietly to her partner that fully resonated with me…
“How do I miss something I never had?”
At that moment I felt my words needed to be said, and this post was agreed in my mind. I’ve avoided the subject for years, believing that my voice and my pain was insignificant, but I hope these thoughts and the support ideas at the bottom of the page might be helpful for someone.
Why am I even talking about it? Why bring up something so complex? Why create the potential to upset someone (including myself) by saying these things?
Frankly, because we SHOULD feel able to talk about it. There’s a stigma that’s still so acceptable and yet so ridiculously unwanted. It leaves parents, expectant parents, desperate parents, trying parents (and every other ‘carer’ or ‘guardian’ who feels it too) feeling guilty for their grief when they lose a child, feeling shame and embarrassment for feeling utterly bereft.
The ache that’s created is never ending. For me, it’s virtually impossible to articulate how we felt, and still feel, every time one of our 4 pregnancies disappeared.
The sad truth I hate admitting is the unwritten rule that parents who struggle to adopt, foster, are unsuccessful with IVF, are unsuccessful naturally, miscarry (I dislike that word but I’m using it because it’s understood) or lose that person, that dream, that life they’ve planned for, should suffer that loss (and yes, it most definitely is a loss) in silence.
We’re incredibly grateful that our journey was eventually successful. But our daughter didn’t magic away the piles of sadness created when we lost 4 other children. She didn’t mend our broken hearts or remove the horrifying memories of those moments burned into our minds. I’ll always remember the dates and my missing treasured ones, and you should feel allowed to remember yours too, in the way that works for you.
When we were struggling to get pregnant I became unfuriated by my partner. He was insistent that I didn’t discuss a positive result with anyone else pre-12-weeks. I couldn’t understand it. Why does any expectancy not count until it’s hit the magic dozen? And why is our loss so hidden until then too? I’ve experienced miscarriage and still birth at varying times in pregnancy. The mental anguish was unbearable at every stage. Whether your eggs weren’t viable, the adoption agency chose another family or you had an awful moment in the public toilet when you knew you were only a few weeks in…that’s a bereavement. A full-blown, bonafide, tangible loss and you should talk, cry, scream, shout, get advice and hold each other as loud and as long as you need to. And it shouldn’t matter when the journey began.
There are people and charities doing incredible work to support parents at any stage of grief, and making genuine strides forward in destroying these unwritten rules and stigma. But I look at some organisation websites and wonder whose side they’re on? If you’re asking the parents out there, trying to create their family, not to talk about it until there’s a high level of certainty it’ll happen, where do they go if things go wrong before that certainty appears?
Why should our pain be amplified to avoid the embarrassment and awkwardness of others? In my opinion, it’s THEIR attitude that should be different, NOT the family coping with the stress of loss.
And these stupid rules don’t just apply to grief. Going for a promotion? Don’t mention it to family in case you’re unsuccessful. Buying a new house? Don’t talk about it while you’re out for dinner because the vendor might pull out and you’ve only just made the offer. Started losing weight? Don’t go to the pub for a month or so – Karen has just put 12 pounds back on after Graham left her.
I feel like I’ve spent my life treading on eggshells trying to avoid upsetting other people, all the while my own mental illnesses were being impacted negatively as I kept my fears, sadness, grief and worry inside.
If I can’t be honest, sob, feel sick and talk to my friends and family at a time when I’ve lost something so critical, when can I? Surely this is exactly the moment when eggshells disappear and the path to dialogue is permanently clear and open?
Over a decade ago I sat next to my mum as I watched her pass away. I remember everything about that day, but one of the clearest memories is being alone after it happened. I was 200 miles from home and stood in a miserable hospice car park in disbelief at what I’d just witnessed.
I called one of my closest friends, to tell them the news, let someone hear my tearful sobs and feel less lonely. After they’d said the usual ‘sorry’ and asked a few questions, they told me not to talk to others because I might ruin a birthday.
I was shocked in the moment, but ten years later I’m still horrified by that comment. It was a deeply upsetting grief-fuelled moment amplified by a thoughtless comment from someone I loved.
Sadly, this isn’t the only example I know where the pain of the bereaved is disregarded in favour of something so utterly unimportant. It’s disgraceful and if you’ve been let down by someone in a similar way, I’m so bloody sorry.
In conclusion
Bereaved parents need the space to be able to talk about their loss, at whatever stage, without shame, embarrassment or social stigma stopping the conversation. The freedom to have an open dialogue without judgement when a gut-wrenching event is still raw is critical in helping those grieving to recover well.
Let them decide when it’s time to talk about trying their pregnancy / IVF / surrogacy / adoption / fostering journey again, and whether they chose to keep going or stop, they should be supported in that decision, not pressured another way.
There should be no comment or disappointment attached to how long or how hard someone grieves – it’s an infinite, complicated feeling, so the reaching and emotional outpouring is just as never-ending and complex.
Anyone worried about grief might find it helpful to know their safe space and know where to go if they need this type of help. It’s not easy to ask someone to be your support in darker times, but it’s far more difficult to jump from person to person in desperate need of support. In the heat of a difficult moment you might find yourself facing-off with their judgement when it’s the last thing you need. Hearing about stigma at the worst possible time. Find someone who’ll support you through good and bad, and know they’re there if you need them.
If you’re on the listening side of this conversation then PLEASE be mindful of these stigmas and how difficult it might be for your friend or relative to hear about them. Sometimes just listening and wiping away tears is all that’s needed, so complicated opinions and recalling similar events isn’t necessary. Just be a sympathetic, understanding and patient friend and you’ll be doing an incredible job.
And if you want to talk and you’re stuck in a vacuum because awkward conversations might upset other people…I’ll talk to you. Message me and I’ll try and listen and point you in the direction of some real help so you can find a path to living with the grief.
It’s real, it’s painful, and it lasts. You should never feel ashamed for experiencing it. Support ideas, websites and contacts are below if you’d like to try talking.
I’m so sorry you’ve found yourself needing this page, but I hope in some way it’s been helpful.
I’m so sorry for your loss.
Thanks for reading 💜
Support
There is lots of support available for anyone trying to cope with the loss of a child.
Sands – Sands are a stillbirth and neonatal death charity with a welcoming and safe support community available. They work hard to reduce inequalities in pregnancy loss and they were a critical part of the ongoing support we received all those years ago. They have a helpline, app, support community and much more available on their website, including information for friends and family of those who are bereaved.
Tommys – Tommys is a charity dedicated to finding the causes and treatments for saving babies lives as well as being a trusted hub for pregnancy support and baby loss. Their website has lots of helpful information about the subjects as well as an established peer support community to talk with other parents experiencing a bereavement. They also have an email service that connects you with a trained bereavement midwife, to answer any questions you might need to ask privately.
Saying Goodbye – Saying Goodbye provide information and support for anyone who has suffered the loss of an infant or baby at any stage. They have a beautiful, gentle website with a myriad of information available. Don’t worry – it’s not overwhelming and it’s easy to navigate. They offer a helpline and email address to answer any confidential questions you might have, or offer to listen if you need to talk.
Cruse Bereavement Support– Cruse say that “Grief can be overwhelming – you don’t have to deal with it alone” and that is exactly where they fit in. Any grief, for any reason, for people who need to talk in any way, they are on the end of the phone. They also run local counsilling support sessions as well as a helpline and incredibly useful website. As someone that has used their service in the past, I can’t recommend them highly enough.
The Good Grief Trust – This is a signposting service dedicated to finding people in mourning the correct help for their situation. They say on their website that they provide grievers with “Reassurance, a virtual hand of friendship, and ongoing support.”
Child Bereavement UK – A specific charity helping those who are living through the grief of losing a child as well as helping children themselves to cope with grief at such a young age. They have a freephone helpline on their website as well as lots of information, signposting and support if you aren’t able to talk about things yet.
This is honestly a drop in the ocean, a quick google search will return thousands of options. Everyone has different needs. Just take a minute to find what feels right for you. And don’t forget the benefits possible just by calling your GP or (if you’re in the UK) NHS 111 will help too.
Good luck and take care. 💜
Creative Steph 