dear well meaning people

I know you mean well. Really. And I don't hold the fact that you don't get it against you. Really I don't. But for future reference - please don't tell me that a miscarriage is natures way of weeding out the bad eggs. I do understand that frequently a m/c happens b/c there are issues that make the baby incompatible with life. I absolutely get that sometimes there are chromosomal issues that are so extreme - that a miscarriage happens. I am aware that this is a common reason for a m/c.

Here's the thing though...Chromosomal abnormalities did not cause 2 out of 3 of my m/c's. It may have been why I miscarried the second time - early early miscarriages are almost always b/c of a chromosomal issue and it was a super early loss.

But the first one - well I had the tissue tested. The baby had no abnormalities. It was just one of those things and there is no explanation.

And Pepper's stuff all came back normal too. It was a cord accident. Not nature weeding out a bad egg.

So unless you know the story - don't say that. Even if you do know the story, don't say that. It wouldn't have mattered to me if my baby had issues. I would have loved her anyway. It doesn't make me feel better to hear that. IT doesn't make most dead baby moms feel better to hear that. It just makes us want to cry or throw something. And neither of those reactions are considered acceptable, so we usually just suck it up and go home to rant on our blogs or to our husbands.

I know no one knows what to say to a dead baby mom. Especially one who has lost more than one baby. So I will give you an idea of what is an acceptable line:

"I'm sorry for your loss" - can't go wrong with this one. Most of the time that's all I really wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry for your loss. It sucks. There's nothing else to say - it just sucks" - this is my favorite, personally. My nurse who checked me into the hospital when I delivered Pepper, said this to us. She was sitting on the coffee table, getting ready to explain our burial options and autopsy stuff and the bereaved parents group the hospital has. And James and I were sitting across from her, on the couch, and I was praying she wouldn't say anything about this being natures way of weeding out a bad egg...And she looked at us and said "I'm sorry - this sucks. That's all. It sucks." And I almost cried from relief b/c it was like someone got it! God bless that wonderful nurse and the two who cared for us the rest of that awful night.

Other helpful things:

"Can I bring you dinner/run your vacuum/do your laundry?" - personally I didn't care the first couple of days if my floor had enough dog hair on it to make another dog, if my clothes were 3 days old and stinky, or if I ever ate again. But the rest of my family wanted dinner and clean underwear. And since one of them is 3 and not terribly useful and one was very busy loving on me, it was nice to have people help out for a couple of days until I felt more like doing things again.

"Can I see pictures of your baby?" - some DBM's don't want to show their pictures. It can be painful and you don't know how people will react. I am very proud of Pepper, but I'm not stupid. She's not plump and rosy and full term. She's a 17wk baby - it's a totally different ball game. And she was perfectly formed, but does not look like a full term baby. And you're terrified someone will say something negative or be offended. I haven't posted the pictures on the blog b/c I know this is a sensitive subject to people and may upset them. And I don't want my baby's picture to cause controversy. So I rarely offer to show the pictures to people. I will show them if asked though.

"I'm here if you need to talk" - But if you say it, please mean it. Don't say it b/c you're "supposed" to. It's ok if you can't handle hearing about my loss. It's a hard thing to deal with and I understand that. But please don't offer your support if you don't mean it. We already feel alone - it hurts even worse when someone who said we could talk to them doesn't really want to hear how we feel.

On the flip side - be understanding if we don't want to talk about our loss - especially right after it happens. I could barely get through the phone calls to tell my family what had happened without falling apart. In fact the first time I miscarried, I made James tell everyone. The second time, I texted the 3 or 4 people who knew. This last time, I made the phone calls while driving b/c having to focus on the road kept me in control.

After I came home from the hospital, I didn't want to be alone, but I didn't really want to talk about things. I just wanted someone to sit with me and let me do my thing. That only lasted about a week and then I was ok with being alone. But at first, I hated being alone. So even just offering to sit with someone is a nice thing.


I know that when people say the "wrong" things they don't mean anything by it. They just don't know any better and I don't hold it against them. But it can be like rubbing salt in a nasty wound - it stings horribly. So this blog post is born from a horribly stinging moment I had at work today.

The thing to remember is - trying to explain my loss or use warm fuzzies - "God needed an angel", "at least you can get pregnant", "you can try again" - isn't helpful. The best thing to say is "I'm sorry, this is horrible, what can I do?" And mean it.

And lots of love to all the fabulous people who have done just that for us. And all the fabulous people who mean well.