Today’s guest post is from Sarah Philpott from All American Mom. She’s telling us what NOT to say when someone has a miscarriage–based on some of the insensitive things she was told. Unfortunately, I think far too many of you will identify.
Support provided by loved ones is one of the ways that people are helped through any grief process.
When a family member dies, society rallies around the griever. Refrigerators are full of casseroles, mailboxes are full of cards, and shoulders are loaned to cry upon.
But the grieving process of a woman losing her unborn child is often lonely. This loneliness might be by choice- she might choose not to tell people. But sometimes the loneliness is because society as a whole tends to minimize miscarriage. “Maybe next time” or “It just wasn’t meant to be” are very common phrases uttered. Unfortunately these comments are often quite hurtful to the woman who has just lost her baby.
Stop and read the end of that sentence again, “lost her baby.”
You see, this is not an abstract concept or a dream- we are mourning the loss of a baby: a loved baby.
We found out we were pregnant with our baby (we might have been nervous, scared or excited), we used our bodies to nurture our baby (we read books, blogs, envisioned rocking our baby, stopped drinking coffee, stopped eating deli meat, started planning our nursery), and then we lost our baby. The physicality of this is quite intense; the emotional toil is real. It might not have been “real” to onlookers, but we know that our bodies were nurturing a human life and even though we shouldn’t- many of us feel misguided guilt that we couldn’t bring the baby to term.
It hurts. Our thoughts are invaded by untruths. And even though we find comfort that our babies are in heaven with God, it still hurts. At the crux- all we ask is that you don’t minimize our loss and that you don’t offer comments that make us feel any further guilt. Pregnancy loss shouldn’t be minimized or brushed aside as not being worthy of grief. The loss of a baby is a grievous situation.
No one intends to be insensitive. I know you wish to bring comfort. I’m truly touched that you are reading this; it means you want to be helpful. Your heart is in the right place. I just want to help you with your words.
Grief and death are tricky topics for anyone to address. My hands get sweaty when I walk into a funeral home. I don’t know quite what to say. We’ve all been there- in that uncomfortable space where “I’m sorry” just doesn’t seem quite enough. Although I had a legion of support after my two miscarriages, my feelings were hurt numerous times by well-intentioned people. All of this is compounded by the hormones a female experiences after a miscarriage. There is a marked increase in risk for depression and anxiety after a pregnancy loss (Lok, I.H & Neugebauer, R. 2007). It’s not something we can control- it’s a common psychological consequence of miscarriage.
After having my feelings bruised numerous times, I finally accepted that we can never understand someone’s unique life experience; therefore, we can’t expect someone to understand the physical pain and emotional toil of a miscarriage if they have not had that experience. I also kept repeating the verse from Romans 3:10, “There is no one righteous; not even one.” To me, this means that there are no perfect people in the world. People make mistakes and I can’t hold a grudge for a person’s offhand remarks. God is the ONLY one I can count on for comfort.
I did decide that I could help educate people on miscarriage- this includes raising awareness of phrases that evoke more harm than healing.
Here are some commonly said comments you will want to avoid if you desire offering support to a grieving mama.
As you read these, please know that these are compiled by a large group of women. These are comments we all heard numerous times. I’ve also included the voices of some of the women. Above all, please know- we appreciate that you want to offer us support. Thank you.
Please don’t tell me:
- It happened for a reason.
- Something was probably wrong with the baby.
- Go and have a drink to take the edge off.
- It was God’s will.
I feel too often in the Christian community that people want to brush over miscarriage like it’s no big deal saying things like “You’ll have another baby” or “This was the Lord’s plan for your life” without really considering what the mama is going through.
“Just Adopt”
We know we can adopt. We might one day, but I’m grieving the loss of a specific baby. One that I just lost.
“At Least You Have Another Child”
I’m so grateful for my other child, but that doesn’t mean I’m not sad over the loss of this baby.
“You Can Always Have Another Baby”
I had to have a hysterectomy. I can’t have another baby.
It hurt when people reacted like I’d lost a puppy. And followed it up by saying I could have another. I wanted the one I lost. I feel like people that haven’t experienced the loss unknowingly trivialize it to a degree because we never physically meet our babies. It made me mad, and still does, but I try to remind myself that I can’t blame people for their reactions if they have never experienced the loss.
People would say, “oh, you’ll have more kids one day.” Realistically I knew that I might not be medically able to have more children. I wanted to accept that fact and learn to be okay with it. I didn’t like false hope or people treating it like I had lost a puppy dog, ‘oh, you can get a new puppy again,’ is what it felt like. The doctor told me it would be extremely difficult for me to carry a baby to term.
“At Least It Happened Early”
Because losing a baby is somehow easier or less painful that way?
“Have you found out what’s wrong with you?”
“Did you exercise too much?”
“It was probably that insecticide you sprayed around your house.” (INSERT ANY AND ALL “BLAME COMMENTS”)
This person responded by basically indicating that I should probably ‘get checked out’ because something might be ‘wrong with me.’ It just really bothered me. I know there were good intentions somewhere behind what she said, but all it did was to bring back that flood of guilt that I had been trying so desperately to let go of.
“Well, you shouldn’t have announced your pregnancy so early. You knew this could have happened.”
“So, when are you going to try again?”
All of those comments were just so incredibly insensitive.
Here is a picture of me cradling our second baby.
It was the day I found out I was pregnant. This was the first baby I lost. I’m not showing you this for you to feel sorry for me. I’m really not. I promise- I am okay now. I hesitated even posting this picture because I know it will make you uncomfortable. I am showing it to you for you to see the excitement in my eyes so that you realize that I was carrying a baby in my womb. I had hopes, dreams and fears.
Please be kind and thoughtful with your words- don’t minimize our losses and please be careful not to utter any phrases that could lead us to believe that you are blaming us for our loss.
Pray, offer a hug, tell us you are sorry. Give us time, permission, and space to grieve. Really- those simple tokens of love are the most helpful.
Sarah Lewis Philpott recently earned her Ph.D, but instead of climbing the ivory tower she happily spends her days being a farmer’s wife to her high school sweetheart and being a mom to young two mischievous children. She blogs at All American Mom.
Represented by the Blythe Daniel Agency, Sarah is working on a book that looks at the sensitive topic of pregnancy loss and also about cherishing the life that was conceived. She runs a Loved Baby Pregnancy Loss Support Group on Facebook that is open for anyone to join.
I grew up thinking I’d never have kids. Then I got to middle 30’s and decided it was now or never. We had a miscarriage on the first pregnancy and the most hurtful thing anyone said to me was my sister-in-law who said that I must be okay, cause I never wanted to have kids anyway. I don’t think I have entirely gotten over the sting of those words.
Oh, that’s brutal! How awful.
Thank you for this! After having a perfectly smooth pregnancy with my first child, I have since had three miscarriages in the last 8 months. The first child that I lost would have been due on July 3rd- it’s funny how the upcoming due date also brings a new wave of sorrow.
I’ve noticed that people don’t want to talk about it or bring it up and if I bring it up they don’t know what to say. At least for me, I’d appreciate it if people would bring it up so that I could share the pain once in a while. But I think our society has created a culture where it is hard to talk about death, and a pre-born baby death is even more confounding to many.
That said, when people are informed of my miscarriages they often say: It just wasn’t meant to be or everything happens for a reason and the baby likely couldn’t survive once born. Those hurt. But the good news is this experience has taught me how to talk to others who have experienced loss of any kind. I’ll say something simple like, “I’m so sorry for your loss. I know nothing I can say can make it better but I will be saying prayers for you and your loved one. Please let me know if there is anything that I can do.” Is it perfect? No. But it is from the heart and opens the door if the other person wants to talk about it more.
Thank you again for this post.
Sharon, what a road you’ve been on this year! How heartbreaking. I pray that the fear will subside for you and that God will be really present in this time. And I pray that you’ll have friends around you who WILL talk to you. I found that after I miscarried and after my son died so many women came out of the woodwork who had gone through similar things–I had just never known. We just don’t talk about this normally. I hope some talk to you!
For me, reassurance that God was in the situation and that there was most likely a biological reason for my miscarriage were very helpful. Also having my miscarriage early was emotionally much easier to recover from than my sister found her later miscarriage to be. There was a funeral involved at that point, while for me, there was a surgery to stop bleeding. After 18 years I still think of my baby, but I am relatively sure the sadness I feel is not the same if I had carried them to term.
Because I have experience miscarriages and an ectopic pregnancy I can say I been there and bought the t shirt too many times. What I have said to some of my friends who have miscarried is that I am sorry and I understand because I have too experienced the same loss. That has meant so much to them because I truly understand.
It is really comforting to have someone to talk to who has been through it. And I’m always amazed at how many women HAVE endured such loss. It is sad.
One of my close friends lost her first pregnancy to miscarriage, and she and her husband actually ended up changing churches because of it. So many hurtful, insensitive comments. And then everyone completely ignored it. So sad. I cried for her many times.
I have been in a church like that. I’m glad she found a better family!
My husband and I miscarried our first child in 2003…then 3 week later he was deployed to Iraq to fight in Operation Iraqi Freedom. We were devestated…and really didn’t have much time to grieve together before he left because we were so busy preparing for his deployment. I think I grieved more for our baby after he left. But I also was able to use it as hope that God had a plan for my husband to come home from war…maybe that sounds wierd to some people but I felt like since I didn’t have this baby full term, that he was going to come home and we would have children together later…and we did..our 2 children are now 9 and 10….and even still there are times I feel sad because she would be turning 12 this week actually. But I remember telling my family and my grandmother said that she told me I shouldn’t have been unpacking after a recent move because lifting my arms above my head to put glasses and dishes away is probably the reason we lost the baby….talk about a jaw to the floor moment…really? where were the good intentions? Was i totally to blame because i put some dishes in the cabinet?? And I was only 21 and very niave so that really made me question myself and feel a ton of guilt. Anyway, I’m thankful for others who came along side me and said, “i’ve been there”, “what can I do for you?” during that time and reassured me that it wasn’t my fault….Thanks for this article.
Oh, wow. That separation while he was deployed must have been so hard! Neat how God gave you comfort that he would come home, though. So glad you have two lovely children here with you now. It doesn’t take the pain away, I know–but it is a comfort.
I’ve had 3 miscarriages. All of them were pretty early, but it’s so disappointing when you wanted a baby and get all excited and then the baby dies and it doesn’t happen. Thank goodness I’ve had sympathy from family who knew and not comments that made me feel worse. It really helps when people sympathize instead of pretending it’s no big deal.
I’m so sorry, Lindsay. It IS a big deal. Glad your family was so helpful.
I had two miscarriages in between my middle child and third child. Very few people had any clue as to what to say. They ended up just saying dumb stuff.
probably the thing that meant the most to me, though, was a friend brought me an angel ornament for my tree. She brought it to memorialize one of the babies that died. It was so incredible to me, and I felt that was the only right response I was given.
Even my mom, who is usually very wise when it comes to things like this, ended up saying some dumb things.
I love that idea of the angel ornament! I’ll remember that for the next friend who miscarries. That’s beautiful!
Close to my heart… I was asked to and provided an article in a Christian paper in the Quad Cities several years ago.
Here was my heart on paper.
Full House Yet Vacant Rooms
By Kimery Lorenz
Once upon a time, in a land not so far away lived a husband, a wife and three children. It was a happy sort of life, you see. All she dreamed of, was being wife and mom to 4 beautiful, well-adjusted children. Then, one day, quite suddenly it seemed, she found out she was carrying child number four. All was well with her world, or so it seemed.
She should have been leery when she felt not one bit queasy. She was a bit nervous, but reasoned, “The luck of the draw, I’ve paid my dues with the other three nauseating pregnancies.” Days passed by quickly and before she knew it, she was one week shy of the 12 week, first prenatal check. Then IT happened! The spotting, which she’d never encountered before! She panicked but rationalized she’d been doing lots of lifting with her children and made mental note, to let hubby do the lifting. Things settled for a week or so, until. . . The spotting reappeared. This once happy mom-to-be tried to calm herself and just to be sure all was well, she called the doctor’s office. A bit nervous was she, but never prepared for what came next. The ultrasound, normally displaying a heartbeat and sweet kicks of a tiny babe, glaringly displayed only an empty sac. Because she was leaving town the next day, and given dire “you could hemorrhage” warnings, she was given the choice – procedure to eliminate tissue needed to happen tonight or the next morning. The couple opted for that night. That “couple” was us.
The journey that miscarriage took us on was surreal. Never had I had to have a ‘procedure’ done before. It was a cold, calculating experience where the nurse and doctor bantered back and forth as if this was everyday occurrence. I wanted to shout, “my baby’s dead and all you can do is casually converse?!”
It was only the beginning of a whole new world; one that I had never counted on.
I’d always assumed I would have my four wonderful pregnancies with no complications, yet here I was.
From the dear nurse at the doctor’s office, who’d had two or three miscarriages before she ever gave birth, to family members, to the neighbor and the church ladies – everyone had their story to tell. Yet, why was I just hearing their sorrows? Why hadn’t I heard of the statistics before of the actual number of miscarriages that happened? Or was it, I hadn’t been listening? Why didn’t I hear about this in the caring community called the church?
My first loss of a child was physically traumatic. There were health issues, caused because all the tissue had not been retrieved by the surgeon, tricking my body into thinking it was still pregnant. Although my body healed fairly quickly after I had surgery the next month, my heart was forever altered. I’d want to look away, yet my eyes were inexplicably drawn to friends’ bellies growing round with their developing children.
There was always to be that, “I wonder if he/she had lived” questioning in my mind. There’s something about once a mama conceives, she never forgets.
I’ve gone on to have a total of six living children, interspersed with the loss of five babies miscarried from my body to heaven’s arms.
Forever altered, now I know to send cards, notes of encouragement, drop a phone call to a mom who has lost her precious child. I understand, now, that words “I’m so sorry for the loss of your baby” is both all a person can and should say, followed by, “I’ll be praying for you.” Then, I want that mama to know, I will listen, when she needs to talk. I will offer resources, such as the book by Dr. Jack Hayford, “I’ll Hold You in Heaven.” I will encourage others to do the same, especially those who call themselves pro-life.
All life is precious, no matter the stage of life. We don’t know why these babies are taken so prematurely, we just know they are forever molded in our hearts. Even if only for a few short weeks, that baby was ours to nurture! Sometimes when I go out with my living children, there are times that although every one is present and accounted for, I find myself recounting. There gnaws on my mind I’m missing someone. It’s then I remember, yes, there are children missing from my current head-count, but they wait ahead in heaven’s grand stands. Some day soon I think, I shall be reunited with five more beaming faces and then, my head will nod. Yes, all are present and accounted for.
thanks for this. We had a second miscarriage two weeks ago. It’s a tough time.
I think it’s a really interesting ‘creep’ in our culture that since abortion has been legal, we don’t think of something as a life until it is ‘viable.’ As a Christian, I believe life begins at conception and therefore when we lost our pregnancies, we lost lives that are a part of our family. Realising that has helped me a lot
I totally agree–it’s almost as if people’s reactions to miscarriages have become politicized. It is sad. I’m so sorry for your loss.
This is a really helpful article. Two of my friends have miscarried in the last 6 months or so; one of them was carrying twins. I can’t imagine what it would be like to go through that. I know that people can be so quick to think they know the whole situation and say things, and those things can really sting. I have had some health struggles lately, and have had to try to ignore people saying stuff like “It’s good for you to take a nap when you get home if you can DO that.” The implication seemed to be that their busy life wouldn’t allow them such a luxury. My situation doesn’t compare in any way to a grieving mother’s. But I think that can be another area people can be inconsiderate–expecting someone to be 100% physically when they are nowhere near that.
I agree that miscarriage is sad and painful. And I DO agree with the post. However, miscarriage IS a part of nature. It IS God’s natural abortion of babies (for the most part) who would be born severely ill and/or deformed. I agree that it can be painful and people can be tactless, however, if women would acknowledge that miscarriage is a part of nature and there is a reason the baby did not make it, that is out of our control, i believe it will help them cope. I have a friend who had a miscarriage early last year and she was tearing up her marriage over it. She blamed her husband for situations and stress from his baggage from his previous marriage and she was screaming accusations at him. And I had to be blunt and tell her that it was NO ONE’S fault. To stop accusing her husband. It was not his fault nor her fault. The baby was probably deformed or had something severely wrong and this was God’s way of keeping them from MORE heartache down the road. But that her behavior was going to destroy her, her husband, and her marriage and that she owed him an apology. She was not happy with me, but she did listen.
I know miscarriage IS painful. I have never miscarried that I know of, because I have never been pregnant that I know of. Seems like I can’t get pregnant. At any rate, if women take natural things more in stride it does help. What I have noticed is while it is painful for people to lose a baby, they can sink at that moment. Sometimes they need to hear words that are painful to them to shake them out of their depression and self blame. What is worse? To have a friend say “Honey, I am so sorry, but this is natures way of protecting us from more hurt. God took your little baby because maybe it would have suffered too much down here with us. This is not your fault or anyone’s fault. Just God protecting your and your little angel.” Or would you rather just hear “I’m sorry.” and be left in your sadness and confusion? It is painful, but it IS nature, and we need to understand and be strong.
Typically, I do not offer hardly any words regarding these situations. I do not go around telling people the above. But if someone is tearing themselves apart and their family apart over a miscarriage, to me, then I will be blunt. Because the whole family grieves too. In my friends case I told her her husband was grieving too and she was being unfair to him. I follow what I prefer in these situations, which is to be left alone, and I leave people alone to get over their loss.
I’ll also add, “You know, it’s a pretty common thing. A lot of women miscarry.” A lot of peoples’ parents die, too. Would you say that to someone at the funeral home?
I wonder if part of the problem is personality differences. We might say something that would help us feel better in the same circumstances, not realizing that to someone else it comes across as exactly the wrong thing to say. I think a person should just stick to offering a heartfelt “I’m so sorry” and a listening ear.
My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage, about 6 months later I was pregnant with twins. One of the ladies at church told me, “It’s like God replaced the baby who died.” I still, 10 years later, don’t know how I should have responded to that comment. She meant well, but it hurt.
I wonder about women who have had to make a medical decision to terminate a pregnancy. I know everyone is anti-abortion, but sometimes there are necessary situations for this. It has got to be one of the most awful things to go through. I hope if anyone had to go through this they had loving support and not blame or criticism. I say this because I was afraid of having to make a “decision” if something had been wrong with my baby girl during the pregnancy as I was 34 years old at the time. Age factors in a lot with birth defects. Please support someone going through any of these situations, they need as much love and gentleness as you can give them.
Thank you for bringing it up….
I had a miscarriage after our second son was one year old …. I too heard many unsensitive comments, worst was my mum:” So just see it positiv.” So what is positive there?? My baby died – I will never be able to hold and cuddle her.
God was the only one who was able to comfort me and who I knew was willing to listen, who would not make it smaller. Six years later He surprised us with a baby girl. I still think about my lost baby many times and I will always remember her due date as it was her birthday. I am thankful that God carried me through and that he turned it into something good.
Hello! I am Anna and I came across this insightful article on Pinterest.. I would like to say something different from the other comments.. I request you post a article to this one and title it “What To Say To Someone Who Has Had A Miscarriage.” I have been looking through quotes about miscarriage so that I have these on hand for cards and all that related jazz. I really do want to know what would be comforting to a grieving mother. Thanks again!!
That’s a great idea, Anna! Let me think about that and I’ll post it.
My friend told me she had a miscarriage. I was thousands of miles away. I just cried. What can you say. I couldn’t even hug her 🙁
I think some of it is just peoples natural unthinkingness and awkwardness with grief and pain. This would be especially bad in prosperity gospel churches…
Another part is the prevalence of abortion. How can you properly acknowledge the grief and loss of a miscarriage if you personally think it’s ok to end a pregnancy whenever you feel like it?
@ Jayme. You can’t say that God is saving your baby from suffering on earth. Why did he allow you to conceive in the first place? Why did he allow the baby to have a defect? What about your suffering? Theology of pain and suffering is more complicated than that. You can absolutely intervene with destructive behavior and tell someone it’s no-ones fault. That is likely true. But don’t just throw around statements on one of the most complicated problems in Christian theology.
Thank you so much for this beautiful article. Being a mom of four and only getting to raise one angel miscarriage is a very tough journey and it’s lonely. I have been there three times and you can never understand unless you have been there. I have had friends who have had them and my heart breaks for them. I know the pain and the healing they will have to go through. I have a beautiful little miracle but it took me years to have her. I thank God every day for her but I also thank him for my miracles growing in Heaven and for that reunion one day. I love and miss them and long to have them I my arms again but I also have the joy in Raising what God has given to me and I’m thrilled beyond measure for such a gift. I pray that no one has to endure such pain but if they do, they know that they can crawl up in the arms of Jesus and pour their hearts out to him as many times as they need. God has been my refuge. God bless