Saturday, October 11, 2014

The Myths of Grief

I was blessed and honored to go to a one-day retreat to listen to the inspiring Kara Tippetts. Many of you may have heard her heartening story of battling stage four cancer. She’s a wonderful wife, loving mother, and uplifting Christian who is also the author of the book, “The Hardest Peace,” and the blog Mundane Faithfulness. After listening to her, meeting her, and reading only the first chapter of her page-turning book, this is what I’ve come to know and accept. We ALL have a story. Kara encouraged me to really tell my story, my raw, rare, uncommon, but hopefully inspiring story. My lift-my-chin-up, be the informal and unconventional ME that I’ve always been, flee from the regular norm that I am not, and share who Thomas and I are right now, who are perfect angel is, and where we go with all of this material kind of story.  I know my blog posts, for a while, may be all over the place, but once again, so am I.  So....here I go.

Please also check out this inspiring woman: 



The Myths of Grief:

God has privileged Thomas and me to have met many other bereaved parents and hear their children’s too short of stories. It’s been a blessing to have our paths cross with these strong, courageous, and one of a kind people.  We’ve met parents that have lost their children the day of birth all the way to age 35 and all in between. Although everyone’s journey of grief is different, there are so many places of common ground that we can relate to with one another. 
  
I want this blog entry to break the myths of grief, give what I hope is a prescription to give some healing and guidance to hearts, and to educate and give the tools of what a favorable and useful roadmap could and will hopefully become. There are so many sayings people say and so many actions that are done that are assumed to be “thoughtful” or “generous” or “helpful”. However, truth be told, some of these typical sayings and actions are what cause grieving parents to hinder more.  This is what I’ve discovered we have in common with other families that have lived life after loss and struggle to communicate in the way they long for. 

Myth #1: Time Heals.
Ugh.....let me say that again....UGH! This could not be more false and is personally my least favorite of all the myths.  When you were a child, at some point, you fell down, you were hurt, and now have a scar to show where your wound once was. Did your skin completely heal over? No, it can’t, it’s impossible. When the skin is torn, it mends itself in the best way it can, and you are left with a scar. That scar is forever. Your skin will never be exactly the same in that one specific location. 
When parents lose their child to death, your heart is left with a scar, and what I believe is a hole. That hole doesn’t heal back to the way it was ever again. It’s a big consuming hole. This hole from our loss causes triggers, memories, and flashbacks, and we are reminded what never will be in the future of our child. I am constantly reminded of Heather’s passing when I meet a woman who has a child born in January, when I see a child being active and playful at the age Heather would be today, when I see a women with her baby in a front carrier, when I hear the name “Heather”,  when I am asked if I have any children, and so much more. Do these triggers make me break down and fall apart. Not necessarily anymore, but I am reminded daily of the loss that I have. So, with you now knowing just a sliver of this, you are not reminding me of my loss. I know it’s there, I didn’t forget.

I met a woman at church that lost her daughter 12 years ago. As she told me her daughter’s story, she cried, she had moments of anger and guilt, and that consuming hole was so very present. Her intense emotions comforted me. I was so happy to witness that it really was impossible to forget my daughter. Once I realized some of these emotions would always be there, it was easier for me to accept them. As time has gone on, I have learned that this hole can be filled by Jesus, if you let Him. It’s not ever going to be the same as it once was, but He will help make it “well with your soul”.  The myth breaker is this: Time does not heal, BUT time does make the pain more manageable.


Myth #2: It’s the thought that counts. 
What if I bought my very best friend in the world, trash can?  Or I bought my husband, who does not cook, a blender, or my gluten free friend a life supply of white bread? I’m sure each one of these people would open their gift and look at me completely confused. Were those gifts thoughtful of me? No, not in the least. 
Some people give gifts of words to make themselves feel like they’ve checked the box, reached out, and did their duty. They think you feel better, they feel satisfied, and they did a good deed. That’s not how this works.
When we are at a loss on what to do in life, we go to a friend for advice, or, let’s be honest, we google it! When we travel, we pack for our vacation, we don’t buy everything once we get there. We prepare for the events, meetings, and occasions in our lives. So, why do we, me included before losing Heather, not be really prepared when we walk into these devastating situations in people’s lives?

After Heather died, Thomas and I reached out and wanted to be available to a family that lost their baby just shy of four months old.  As we approached her funeral, WE were at a loss of words.  We didn’t know what to say to these new bereaved parents.  We were completely shocked at ourselves!  This WAS hard to find something to say, and WE have lived through this. It made me realize how I also needed to be given grace as I tried to configure what was the most heartfelt moment my ears heard. I knew great loss deserved a great effort, not just something surfaced or an attempt. In pure nervousness and at a loss for words, I stumbled. I was lost. If Thomas and I were at a loss for words, how does everyone else feel that hasn’t experienced the death of a child? Here are the accumulated pieces of valuable advice I have collected from bereaved parents on how to help you help us

  • “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
  • “This is so terrible. I am so sorry.”
  • “This is one of the most devastating things we sometimes have to confront in life.”
  • “I would love to hear more about your child’s life when you’re ready to share.”
  • “I would like to bring you dinner on Monday or Tuesday.”

Acknowledgement is key. Trying to say something to “fix it” or make us feel better is not. Remember, our child just died, nothing can fix it and we aren’t ready to “feel better”. 

Tips on phrases to steer clear from:

  • “She is in a better place.” 
  • “Everything happens for a reason.”
  • “Now she can really live.” 
  • “Are you going to try to have another baby? Now you can have a normal one.”
  • “The Lord never gives us more than we can handle.” 
  • “Try not to cry.” 
  • “Everything will be okay.” 

These things are easy for others to say, for God did not take your child, he took mine. This will be a depressing image for you, but go look at a tombstone and imagine your child’s name on it. Can you imagine if you’re child died and someone said, “oh-this happened for a reason,” and think that would make you feel better? Or “it’s ok, I’ll just have another baby.” These are all examples of what just pushes the knife in deeper through our hearts. It stings and we become guarded and resentful. Let us be ourselves in the skin we are in, let us be in a dark place when we want to go there, and let us feel. Please, so much has been taken away from us as bereaved parents. We have lost our hopes, dreams, and a future all along with our child. Don’t take away our feelings too. 


Myth #3: That would never happen to ME.
“This happened to you, but it could never happen to me.” Oh, the times I have thought this. We all have a story, and that story was given to us by God. We can choose to accept it and embrace it, or deny it and live in much more agony. My daughter, Heather Faith, died. She lived a miraculous life. She lived for 13 months and is now in heaven. This is my story, this is my life, and it DID happen to me. Do not live in fear, but when your story evolves and develops more, you have a choice to embrace it or to run. Although this tragedy is beyond excruciating to live through, there is beauty in it also. We saw a real miracle. I held one in my arms. Heather taught me more than I ever thought I would learn in a lifetime, and she keeps teaching me. Heather helped me see the elegance and loveliness in the simple things and know how to truly cherish them. Yes, the unthinkable did happen to me, and I will keep living through it all until I’m alive again. I pray and encourage you to live the story that you thought would never happen to you too. Let it be yours, because once you do, the light and beauty will find you. 

Myth #4: Move on...
Bereaved parents never move on, but we do move forward. We take tiny turtle steps the whole way. Moving on has a very negative connotation to it. If you get into an argument with your spouse, you fight, forgive, move on, and years down the road you most likely forget it. I associate moving on with forgetting. The phrase, “move on”, creates a great instability in our hearts and minds leaving us very unbalanced. Moving forward is where we go from here, we never “move on”. It has been a great help when close family or friends have asked to plan something they know we love.   Planning my favorite summer trip with “Big” Heather, (who my daughter was named after), was a part of me I had to find again, and she helped me move FORWARD in teaching dance again. Thomas engaging in flying again helped him move FORWARD in doing his passion and engaging in his career again.  Getting involved in yoga again helped me take small steps in moving FORWARD in my health. Thomas finding time to play soccer has helped him in moving FORWARD in his activity level. All these things that have helped us move forward were things we already loved and were integrated into the people that we still are. We just had great people help us re-find some of those things to take healthy, positive, and enjoyable steps FORWARD. 

Myth #5: They will be back to normal one day. 
What does normal even mean? I’ve always questioned that.  I will never be able to go back to the person I was before Heather, just like I am not the same person I was in high school. We change, we grow, we become a newer version of ourselves. I have unfortunately learned that some people cannot or choose not to accept this. With that being said, I will close this myth with this: if you don’t want to be there during the bad in my life, you certainly do not deserve to be there for the good. We find a “new normal”, and that’s just who we are and who we will stay for the rest of our lives. 

Myth #6: The avoidance dance: Do not mention their child. 
How many children do you have? 1, 2, 3? What are their names? What age are they? What grade are they in? Are they involved in sports or outside school activities? How many of you found yourself answering these questions in your head? If you did, it’s because you love to talk about your children. Why shouldn’t you? They are YOURS! Well, Heather is still mine, and Thomas and I are still hers. We just have a lot of clouds, sky, and a giant golden gate in between us.  I still love to talk about her. I love sharing the videos of her laughing and pictures of her smiling. I love answering questions about her life and the wonderful baby she was! I love sharing the foods she ate, the nap schedule she was on, her daily routine, the books she loved us to read to her, her favorite toys, and everything about her. It’s natural as parents to talk about your kids. Please do not ever avoid asking about our child. If you feel that uncomfortable, realize this: you are putting your awkwardness and uncomfortable state above those who are severely grieving. We need the storytelling of our children’s lives. It’s what allows us to heal. It does not mean you should ask grieving parents only about their deceased child, but to be a real person in their life, you cannot ignore it completely either. I get it. It’s hard for you because you sometimes imagine yourself in our shoes. You don’t want to imagine going there or losing your child. I see your fear. I get it. I get it, because I lived it and am still living it. We look for the courage and pray for it to live to tell Heather’s story. I will also pray for all of you to find the courage and bravery to really BE a part of our life with us, for us, and for you. 

Myth #7: I know how you feel....
You know how I feel? You also lost a child? Maybe you lost your mother, or father, or grandparent, or dog, or sibling, or aunt, or friend.  You do not know how I feel, and that’s ok, not everyone can. I don't know how you feel either if you lost your mom, for my mom is still here.  Every loss in life is tragic, it's mind-numbing, it's life changing. Every loss is a loss, and that IS significant and important for you and everyone who loves you.  It is not the natural order of things to have your child surpass you in death. As horrible as all losses are, try not to relate your loss to someone else's. Just like I would’t relate the loss of my friend to the loss of your mother. Or the death of my daughter to your father.  As humans, we starve to relate to one another. It’s this natural pull we have to want to “fix it”, once again. Although intentions are sincere, it just doesn’t really work.  I couldn’t relate to someone that was adopted, so why would I try. It’s ok, it’s more than ok, it’s good and real and honest, to not relate when the experience is not there. However, if you can relate, grab them by the shoulders, hug them, and say, “I CAN relate to you.” 

Myth #8: Stay busy.
This is the worst advice I’ve ever heard. I have loved our grief counselor, and the first piece of wisdom she gave to us in the first month was this, “Live in your grief. Let it be all consuming. Swim in it.” As wise as this was, it was also pure torture. I felt like we were drowning. The throbbing, laborious, piercing, raw, burning heartache was unbearable. However, now, over eight months into life without my daughter, I am no longer fully consumed by that laborious, piercing, raw, burning heartache. It’s there, but not all the time. I know I’ve been able to heal some, and move forward, because I fully emerged myself in our deep sea of grief. I allowed myself to mourn, I went through the five stages of grief suffering the entire way through, and I let grief consume me to run it’s most devastating and tormenting course. Letting God lead me through the worst pain I hope to ever know has allowed me to be here in the now. I am happier than I am sad now. I am more active than inactive. I am more honest than hidden. I am me, and it’s a me that I know again, and it’s beautiful.  

Myth #9: Shielding us from your children.

I reconnected with a long lost friend that had too many miscarriages to count. What a beautiful story she shared with me. She never once tried to relate to me, as our losses were still very different. However, these few sentences were in an email to me, and I loved her insight.

“I grieve for the loss of my babies that never were. I want them back. Not your daughters, not your friends, or anyone else’s child. Sharing your good news with me fills me with joy for YOU and YOURS.”

 I am not jealous of your child or your pregnancy, I just want my daughter back.  Please do not hide your children or pregnancy from me. Please do not be afraid to let me hold or play with your children. Please do not ignore me or purposefully not include me in your social settings because children will be there. I love your children!  Even more, I love that others are good mothers and fathers to their children! I am so happy that you are a grateful and joyful parent that loves his/her children unconditionally and that you never take them for granted.  I have been a dance teacher for 14 years. I LOVE CHILDREN!  Again, I am not jealous of you, envious of you, or want what you have. I want back what I had and what I lost. 

Yes, it is likely for my arms to miss holding a baby, for my eyes to tear up for what I no longer can see daily, and for that hole in my heart to pulse a little more openly. With those feelings of heartache though, I feel JOY for YOU. I love you my friend, I love what you have for YOU and YOURS, and most of all, I love that you let me be there with you in YOUR happiness! 

Myth #10: You are ok now, you’re over it.
I am not over the death of my child, I’ve just accepted it. Denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance are the five stages of grief. For a long time, I envisioned grief being true steps. They are not steps, they are fused together in an upward and downward spiral. Some days are good while others are more dreadful. Once that acceptance stage comes around, it may go back downhill, to depression again, as you just realized you’re accepting the loss and can’t believe you are. That downward spiral is so easy to sink into. It’s such a natural feeling to just let go and fall into that deep dark hole. It’s an unlit and lifeless pit where you can’t find the rope to pull yourself back up. That’s why you need God and a great support system!  You are completely blind trying to find your way, your path, and your drive to even have the motive to pull yourself back up. That upward spiral is like climbing a slippery, ice cold, mountain (In high altitude, none the less).  No matter how well trained and in shape you are, it’s a challenge for everyone. And the rest of our life is an uphill climb whether you’ve accepted it or not.  For me, that acceptance only happened because of my strong belief and TRUST in God that eventually we would be ok, a wonderful empathetic husband, a strong support network of family and friends, and a very good counselor. An experienced counselor has the professional wisdom to lead you onto a successful path. We are not over the death of our child, we never will be. We can and will be ok with accepting our path of life though. We have to go through this journey, whether we want to or not.  My hope is that everyone will let us. A good friend of mine said to me, “When you lose hope, I’ll be holding onto it for you.”


The average intense grief cycle lasts from six months to two years within the lifelong journey of grief. In the end, grief amplifies everything. Grief amplifies our strengths and weaknesses in our marriages and friendships.  It amplifies our successes and failures, it amplifies our beliefs and the myths.  It amplifies every feeling we’ve ever had along with new feelings that reveal themselves.  It amplifies our every aspect in our life.  As I constructed this blog entry, I took into account what many other bereaved mothers have shared. Yes, our sensitivity is heightened to it’s fullest. How could it not be?  As you may experience walking on eggshells around us, we feel like we walk on many more eggshells, for much longer, around everyone else. We get the sense that people want us to alter ourselves to make others feel more comfortable even with this being OUR loss. We need to “move on”, we need to “stay busy”, we need to “try harder”, and we simply feel that we are no longer good enough to be in your life, let alone, be ourselves. So, as this blog entry may have been difficult for non-bereaved parents to read and understand, and as it’s challenging to imagine the path we’ve taken, we honor you, applaud you, and are so thankful to those for letting us go “there”, letting us feel, and letting us be the person, in this life, Jesus truly intended for us to be. 

1 comment:

  1. This post is so very true. I wrote a similar post within a year of my Thomas' passing, but yours ended so much more eloquently. I am so sorry for your loss of sweet Heather Faith. We are coming up on the four year anniversary of his death. I crave wanting to tell people about his short life. I used to shy away and almost feel shame in my grief when I mention him. Four years of my journey has taught me to feel no shame, rather educate those who listen and keep talking. I have lost friends, as I'm sure you have too. That's a different type of grief, but I now know its just apart of the process. Some are willing to drudge through the ugly parts of sadness and some aren't. God bless you. (I am childhood friends with Rebecca Martin)

    ReplyDelete