I guess I worry because so many people said exactly the WRONG things to me when I had my miscarriages. You know some of them,
"Your baby would've probably had too many birth defects."
"Don't worry, you'll have another baby."
"It's not the same as a death."
"It's been six months, aren't you going to try to have another baby?"
And sometimes the worst were those that said nothing at all, but ignored me because they didn't know what to say.
It's okay, I know how they felt and I don't harbor ill feelings to anyone. In fact, I've forgotten much of what was said and if it wasn't for my journal and writing my book, I probably would've forgotten all of them.
That's one blessing we all have is our fading memory. For some that causes fear and anxiety because you think,
No, I don't want to forget my baby.
You won't forget your baby, but hopefully you'll forget the raw edges of pain cutting into your heart when you lost your baby. Hopefully, you'll remember the bond that was formed the moment you discovered you were pregnant and not the sadness and sorrow associated with loss.
Forgetting the fine details is one way we cope as human beings, otherwise life as a whole would become overwhelming.
Just remember probably the easiest and best thing to say is, "I'm sorry."
But you could also say:
"Is there something I could do to help?"
"Would you like a hug?"
"I'll pray for you."
You don't have to say something to make it all better, because it won't be. Words don't make it better. The love you share helps heal a hurt.
I'd like to leave you with a thought I shared with one of my readers:
I understand the feeling of a breaking heart and I wish I had magic thread to stitch it back together for you. The only magic thread I know is time.
Let time be your comforting companion on your journey through grief and trial and let fading memory be a salve to help you overcome your sorrows and put on those "rose-colored glasses" and look back in time and see only the good parts.