It can be really difficult to watch a friend or family member grieve the loss of a child. We all want so badly to be able to fix their pain and bring the right comfort. Some of us are really uncomfortable with the grieving process and find ourselves avoiding that person for fear of saying the wrong thing. As hard as it is to walk in the middle of grief, it is also hard to know how to ask for the help and comfort you need.
I was blessed in my grief process by the women who empathized with my loss. I found it was especially comforting when someone I thought had experienced a much harder loss chose to identify with my pain and equate what we were going through. My aunt tragically lost a teenaged child in a car accident. When I had my ectopic pregnancy my aunt wrote me a card and and so sweetly equated our losses because we were both mothers who had lost children. That was incredibly validating.
I also experienced that kind of validation from my friend, Michelle. She shared her story here and was also a driving force behind getting all these stories of loss posted. She and I discussed doing this series months ago and when October rolled around, she made sure we made it happen. She is passionate about helping women through their grief by sharing her story and I’m so thankful for her openness.
I first heard about her son Eli’s life in May of 2010 when Brian and I visited Michelle and her family in Seattle. Michelle and I went to the same college, although we didn’t really know each other at that point. She is a couple years older than I am and was friends with my husband before I came to school. Although we met briefly once in college, Michelle and I didn’t really cross paths until that Seattle trip.
Brian and I were on vacation and he wanted to stop in and see Michelle and her husband. I’m a bit more of an introvert than my husband, so I was a little reticent about having dinner with somebody I met once years earlier. After talking it through, we decided to go and I’m so thankful we did. I love Michelle’s humor, candor, and honesty. Before we’d even been in the car ten minutes she was talking freely about her family, which included Eli’s story. I was struck with how naturally she was able to discuss what could be such a difficult topic and how open she was to questions. As we talked, she validated the pain I had gone through, helped me figure out how to give grace to those who hadn’t experienced that kind of suffering, and helped me verbalize my fears as I was just a few weeks pregnant again.
My respect for Michelle and love for her story grew as she brought her family out to visit us a few months later as part of their motorhome adventure across the country. It was beautiful to watch our kids run around the backyard together and to be able to talk openly about not just our struggles with losing babies, but also the joys and hardships of raising kids with unique needs (Michelle has a daughter with Down Syndrome, but that’s a story for another post later this week). I will never forget sitting on my front porch when Michelle told me that she didn’t want to leave on this trip without brining something of Eli’s with her. And that’s when she let me see it. The most beautiful box of memories. Pictures of her precious son. His tiny footprints. The real emotions of a mom and dad left behind as their son reached out for Jesus. It was so beautiful and helped me see how the tangible reminders of our children help us grieve and yet move forward.
So to finish up this series on loss, I asked Michelle to use the lessons she’s learned in walking through her own pain and in walking with other women to create a guide for those of us who want to help grieve with our friends. Even in talking about these posts, I asked Michelle a question about Eli and I referred to his situation as a stillbirth, which I knew he wasn’t, but I didn’t know what term to use. Michelle was so gracious about correcting me and it reminded me that having gone through pain doesn’t mean we automatically know the right words to say or the best way to respond. I have much to learn. Michelle’s wisdom is worth learning from. It was gained at a great price.
*Her guest post on helping a friend in their grief will be up tomorrow.