Comforting Broken Hearts

This last sunday was filled to the brim with stuff.   Busy stuff… church (which right now consists of me wrestling a toddler for an hour and then teaching a group of 4 year olds for the next two… sometimes I leave church feeling like I just ran a marathon, day of rest? Hmmm….)  Creative stuff… making cupcakes for Momo's birthday (post coming soon).   Happy stuff… we had the grandparents over for cupcakes to celebrate Momo's birthday.  And then add on the Emotional stuff…

Four years ago on May 2nd we found out about Evie's fatal condition.  It's ground into my memory.  (I'll share more about that day another time).  As we sang happy birthday to Momo I found myself smiling and grateful for a crazy little boy that keeps me on my toes.  I also said a little silent prayer of gratitude for my daughter that challenged me in an entirely different way.  

Sunday was a GOOD day.

That evening I got an email from a friend who has neighbors that are expecting a child that will not live long after birth.  

His email read…

"The family I mentioned earlier is planning their labor.  The funeral will follow a few days later.  After I shared your story, they decided they wanted to do the same thing with the blessing in the hospital.  It seems to be very helpful to hear from others who have gone through this before. They really aren't quite sure how to deal with all this and I'm hoping to find more ideas to help them cope.

Were there any specific gifts or services that were given to you that helped? 

Did you have a funeral or what did you do for that?

I appreciate any suggestions you might have.  Thanks!"

Sunday night as I was getting ready for bed I glanced in the bathroom mirror.  I recalled 4 years ago, on this same night doing the same thing.  However it was a stranger peering back.  Her light was dim, she looked empty and I recall questioning if this was the person I would now be.  If this is what was left of me.  I seemed stripped of my happiness... and I considered that it might be forever lost. On sunday it was nice to smile and see ME smile back.  

It did come back, both the happiness and the light. 

That night I laid in bed and began making mental notes of how to respond to my friends email.  The next day I started writing them down.  And now I feel that I should post them.  My feelings have never steered me wrong, so I'm going to trust them again and put my response on my blog.

I remember being the person who didn't know what to do or say.  I remember hearing about those who lost a baby (before our Evie) and I wondered if I should or shouldn't say something. If I should or shouldn't do something. I had similar questions as my friend.   

At the hospital we asked that only immediate family join us.  We also requested no children. The only child in attendance was Scooter (Ride was only about 18 months old so we left her with a babysitter… I was concerned she would want to be held by me while I would be trying to soak in every second with Evie).  Scooter was 4.  She has always been wise beyond her years and seemed to have a grasp of what was going on.  She wanted to meet "Sprinkles" (the name she had lovingly given her).  After she was born she was given a name and a blessing by J. (This is something that we do in the LDS church.  It is usually done in the church building on a sunday a month or two after a baby is born.  We were given permission to have J do this right after she was born).  Even though we don't feel it's necessary to bless a baby it was absolutely beautiful.  I held her in my harms as J gave her a precious heart felt blessing.  We then oohed and awed at her pudgy arms.  We gave everyone the opportunity to hold her.  We had a few people hold her and then quickly they'd put her back into either J or my arms.  Then a few people more would hold her and then back into our arms.  It was quiet and peaceful.  That hospital room felt like a temple.  Sacred and filled with angels.  43 minutes after her birth she peacefully returned to heaven while she was in my arms.  Then the family quietly left J and I to cry, pray and kiss our little one alone.  This remains the most beautiful experience of my life.  I treasure it with all my heart.


Now about the funeral.  

I think this is a personal thing.  For us we wanted a very simple graveside service.  We only invited immediate family and close friends.  This is what we wanted.  Everyone honored and supported us in that.  We only had a couple of speakers and that was about it.  Because it was small we returned to our home for a light luncheon that my church Relief Society had so graciously supplied. 

Now I know this question wasn't in my friends email but I've often been asked what to say and what not to say to someone in a grieving situation.  So I'm going to start with the…

What NOT to say...
I'm not an easily offended person.  But there were comments, although I'm sure were innocent, that stung.   I don't want to spend too much time on this, I like to keep my blog a positive uplifting place. I also don't want to sound like I'm complaining or pointing out the flaws of others.  I have enough flaws of my own I need to concentrate on.  So I share them in the hope they may help or prevent someone from making a similar mistake.  So let's get them out of the way so I can move on to the positive stuff… 

-Before you say something… make sure it's NOT about YOU. 

Sometimes I could feel they were not interested in what I had to say.  They were more interested in what they had to say. 

-If you're not sure you should say it, don't.  Speak with your heart and with LOVE for the person who is hurting and anything you say will be fine.  

-Don't claim to have a better understanding of what that someone is going through because your a more "naturally sympathetic" person.

-Don't compare your situation with someone who is grieving if it isn't similar.  

I guess the best rule is to think before you speak and ask yourself what your motive is.

Now that the ugly is out of the way (thank heavens)… I want the rest of this post to focus only on the positive.  (It's so much more happy).

Say something….

Now that I've sufficiently scared you from wanting to say anything at all;)

It's important to say something.  I know what it feels like to not know what to say, so I'll give you some suggestions…

If you don't know what to say keep it simple…

I'm praying for you.

I'm thinking about you.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

What Can I do for you?

(They most likely will say "Oh nothing, we'll be fine" so you may want to say)...

I'm bringing you dinner thursday night. Or...

I'll be by friday afternoon to pick up your kids to take them to the park.

Don't be offended if they don't say much back.  I've noticed some want to talk about it while others don't.      

I also appreciated stories people would recount to me about someone they knew personally who had experienced something similar.  I loved hearing that it was tough but they were doing well.  It gave me hope.  It reminded me that at that moment everything wasn't OK, but that one day it would be (and it is).  I leaned on this.  

Also I appreciated hearing from those who had personally lost a baby.  Whether in infancy, still born, or through miscarriage.  After everything happened I felt like I immediately was part of a club that no one wants to join.  I feel real love and a bond with anyone who has gone through this type of situation.  

We moved into our neighborhood only a month before Evie was born.  There was a lady who had moved in just about a month before us.  She had experienced a similar loss.  She came over when I got home from the hospital with gifts for the kids and she quietly and kindly organized the funeral luncheon for us.  More than anything she listened to me.  She remains today one of my dearest friends and we often claim we were sisters separated at birth. I guess I'm saying don't underestimate the value of your kind words, help and presence.  

Be there...

I'll never forget when we got home after finding out about Evie.  I didn't know where to be or what to do.  I was in a fog and world was spinning.  But family showed up.  They just came.  They brought love, hugs and tears.  It was just what I needed.  Them.  I will never forget every soul that dropped everything and just showed up (and they did it without request).  That's what family does.  

If you're not family, show up too (not the day of difficult news) but shortly after.  Either physically with a hug or through a card or phone call.  I remember each and every one.  I felt like I had an army of friends and family there to carry me when I needed them. 

Listen...

I should mention that I love talking about Evie, and especially in the months that followed her birth.  All I have is my memories, and talking is therapeutic for me, and now so is blogging.  So if someone needs to talk just listen.  Don't try too hard to say the "perfect, life changing" thing.  Just let them express their feelings and then love them.  Sometimes it took a lot to express my emotions about Evie.  When someone gathers the strength to talk about it, be interested, be kind and be attentive. 

Now onto 

the gifts I loved…

I know people wonder what to give someone.  Gifts are not necessary, but I do have a few that I cherish.

My aunt Lisa had a small pair of baby booties framed with a sweet poem.

Tiny feet too perfect

To walk where men have trod.

Tiny feet so perfect

They walk straight home to God.

She gave us a second pair for Evie to wear. Although they were to big, (Evie had a form of dwarfism) we placed them lovingly in her casket. 

My cousin Paula made Evie two burial dresses.  (I should mention I have a family that oozes creativity and talent.  On both my mothers and fathers side. Paula is one of my many crazy talented family members… her blog is here).  She made one for Evie to wear and one for us to keep.  She's an amazing seamstress and fashion designer.  She also has designed clothes for Marie Osmond's porcelain dolls, so she's a pro at the little clothes.. and Evie was little.  We had it framed.

My sisters mother in law Stacie arranged for us to make plaster molds of Evie's hand and foot.  I LOVE these!  They are my most precious gift.

My family gave us a tree and a rock plaque.  It's a flowering cherry so every spring it bursts with pink blooms.  Pretty perfect.

I appreciated every little thing too.  I loved the flowers.  They brought happiness to our home.  Cards filled with personally penned heartfelt sympathy.  I also remember a lady who brought over a bag of popsicles for the kids.  It wasn't huge… but it came from her heart.  If I listed everything it would take me forever….and this post is already mega long!

I thought about a couple things that also 

would have been great to receive...

(I'm not sharing these because I wish we were given them, a card or heart felt hug is just if not more valuable... only that it may spark some ideas if someone was in need of a few).

All of our stuff from Evie… every card and some of the gifts are placed in a drawer.  Her hospital stuff is in shirt boxes in my closet.  I don't have a special place for them.  I'm realizing it would be nice to have a special box to store them in. I may have to put that on my to do list. 

I'm also seeing all of these darling handmade necklaces around.  The kind that have sweet messages or names printed on them.  It would be special to have had one for the mother to keep and one for the baby.  That way we each would have one next to their heart.  You could put something simple on it like "forever"  or even the child's name. 

Now I'm going to ask for your input.  If your willing please leave a comment about...

What has helped you with grief?  How did you help someone who was mourning?  What gifts have you received or given?  I have loads of amazingly creative people that stop by my blog… I'd love to hear what you have done for someone. Or any ideas that come to mind. 

On another note I want to say a big giant humungous 

THANK YOU! 

On easter I posted about my Evie.  I was nervous.  I had just gained a bushel  full of new readers, with all different backgrounds and religious beliefs.  I didn't know how it would be received.  I'm so grateful for your kind words and love.
Bless your sweet sweet souls!

 Thank you from the bottom of my grateful and happy heart!

anj.