While I was pregnant, I wrote a lot about what not to say or do around pregnant women. I completely understand that there is just no appropriate thing to say or do when someone has lost a child. Nobody is going to be able to say what I want to hear (that this whole thing never happened), but most people are so sincere in saying that they are so sorry for our loss that it does actually help. That said, in the past two weeks I have experienced two circumstances that I thought I should write down as to what, under no circumstances, should you do when someone has experienced the loss of their baby.
My first encounter with "what not to do" happened when I got back to work. I received plenty of hugs and heartfelt condolences, all of which made reentering the workplace much easier. Even those who did not know about Rip were so sympathetic when they heard the news –that is until I ran into the person we will call “this lady”.
This lady knew I was pregnant, so she asked how the baby was doing. While this is always hard, I can’t blame people for asking a totally understandable question. It was only after I explained what happened that she came up with a real gem.
"Oh," says she, “at least it was a baby and not really like you lost a child." I now know what seeing red means. I don’t know what her follow up was, because by the time my vision cleared, she’d made a hasty and well-advised retreat.
As bad as that was, I think the second situation was worse, if only because it occurred with a so-called professional.
Parke and I went to see a grief counselor, with my hopes high that she could provide us with guidance and better ways to cope. What she did was talk for the full hour about how life was really about loss. How she in fact had lost two husbands, a father, and a girl she’d gone to college with. How her daughter has also lost a child but that she (the trained grief counselor) had been too sad to go to her daughter. Then- just when I thought I could not be any more depressed- she ended the session by sticking her iPhone in our faces so that we could watch a two minute video of her happy healthy baby granddaughter squealing and laughing. Just in case we did not realize what we had lost, I guess?
When it was over, she pocketed her phone and grinned at us expectantly. I guess since we hadn’t really said a word in the past thirty minutes, she didn’t pick up on the fact we were stunned into silence now. She charged us a few hundred dollars and asked when we would be back. Needless to say, I hope she’s not waiting by the phone.
Again. I realize I am on edge right now, and probably a lot more sensitive than I will ever be again. But also, don’t be an asshat is good advice any time I think?