What on earth do you say to a bereaved mum? It’s simple, STALL

Beautifully written. In all of my anger, I never thought of what people SHOULD do, just what they SHOULDN’T do. Great advice.

It can seem like there’s plenty of advice about what not to do when it comes to grief. I’ve written a number of emotional posts about how some people get it ‘wrong’ when talking (or not!) to a beavered parent, such as this one and this one. While my rants are only one element of my complex grief emotion, I am, in the main, very accepting that people can’t be expected to ‘get it right’ all the time when dealing with such a sensitive issue (though I have heard some true howlers!).

But there are times when it’s worth knowing just what bereaved mums like me want from our friends and acquaintances particularly in the early days.

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Silence – Last September

After the accident happened and they loaded Benny and I into ambulances, I started praying.  I’m not a religious person, but I knew in that moment that I needed a miracle.  When they don’t let you ride in the ambulance with your child, you know it’s bad.

I don’t remember much about the ambulance ride except for the pleading that was going on in my head.  I begged my mom over and over to save my little man.  I begged my grandmother, my aunt, my uncle, Parker’s aunt, Jodie, anyone to make it better.  I begged and pleaded over and over.

When we got to the hospital, the EMT’s told me that they would let us in where they were working on Bennett, but that I had to control myself.  If I couldn’t hold it together or I became a problem, they would take me away.  I nodded and knew it didn’t matter because I was so devoid of feeling at that point anyway.  I just kept praying.

I begged the doctors to save him.  I tried to explain how special he was.  They just kept saying that it didn’t look good.  I kept begging, praying and pleading in my head.  Someone had to save him.  This couldn’t be happening.  Not to my son.  Not to us.

There was nothing, there was silence.  No one saved him for me that day.  We didn’t get our miracle.

10 months later I am here again.  We found we were pregnant, on our anniversary.  We were surprised, happy, elated.  I was ecstatic that Darcy would have a sibling to grow up with.  I was scared, but so happy for the first time in a long time.  For one week, things were looking up.

The night of the 10 month anniversary of Benny’s death, I started bleeding.  I knew something wasn’t right.  So I started praying again, begging even.  This couldn’t be happening, not again, not to us.  I spoke to the doctor’s office and they said based on my bloodwork, my numbers were low, it was ‘indeterminant’ if I was pregnant.  A chemical pregnancy they called it.

I’ve prayed, I’ve begged, I’ve pleaded.  I don’t know what else to do.  It’s been met with silence.  I don’t know how to make sense of this.  What cruel fate have we come upon?  How many times am I supposed to pick myself back up?  Do we ever get the miracle?  Will we ever get a break?

News

I recieved a call today from our midwife that all of our tests have come back perfect for Baby Roaf.  As of today, little less than 20 weeks, he is healthy.  For months I have been blogging in the background about the excitement and terror of going down this road again.  Making the decision to have another was not something that Parker and I took lightly.

This has been a tough road to get to this 20 weeks.  Back in September we suffered another loss, an early miscarriage.  It didn’t feel right from the beginning and I just convinced myself that I was being paranoid, that we had suffered enough.  I was devastated to find that I was right and we lost ot only a baby, but the hope and excitement that we had for the future, yet again.  It was probably the worst I’ve felt since losing Benny.  It felt so unfair.

We became pregnant again right after and went through a roller coaster as they said this one didn’t look viable either based on early numbers.  Well, they were wrong.  We soon found out it was another boy, but I couldn’t begin to describe how that feels.  A mixture of joy and terror.

It is also with a mixture of joy and terror that I share this news.  While we are excited, I am also tremendously scared of what the future holds and what this means for me emotionally.  What I have now is hope though and I’m holding onto that tightly.

I will back post the blogs that I have been writing for the last 20 weeks in time.  There’s so much Benny involved in this recent pregnancy, it’s crazy.

Ummm…

“The morning after and my wife and I are still dealing with the fallout of that Nationwide Insurance commercial. To be clear, we 100% support the efforts of groups, like the Long Island Drowning Prevention Task Force , who raise awareness about preventable death – through responsible education . There is a right way to start the conversation and a wrong way. In our opinion, Nationwide Insurance blindsided families that are suffering EVERY day with this pain during a time when our families are together celebrating a national pastime. What should have been joyous occassion was ruined by their ill-conceived ad that could have gotten the same message across without being so traumatizing to families that are all too aware of what they are missing out on. Some commenters pointed out that If the commercial “saved one child’s life, then it was worth it” – but that’s not the point. The point is that they could have accomplished the same message without so overtly rubbing salt in the wounds of parents and siblings who already know this feeling and don’t need to be reminded by a multi-billion dollar company that stands to profit by the exposure. This is all we are going to say on the matter and we look forward to getting back to doing what we do: Making this world a KINDER place, one Rees’ piece at a time.”

Well said.  It was a good thing that I missed this commercial last night and to be honest I’ve only seen clips/descriptions.  Shame on you Nationwide…there’s probably a better way this could have been handled.

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