martes, 18 de octubre de 2016

MercatorNet: What not to say when your friend has a miscarriage

MercatorNet: What not to say when your friend has a miscarriage

What not to say when your friend has a miscarriage



What not to say when your friend has a miscarriage

What are the words that hurt and the words that heal?
Mary Cooney | Oct 18 2016 | comment 1 


October. The air grows chill, and the leaves begin to fall. Pink ribbons decorate the stores reminding us that it is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Much less known is the fact that October is also Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. Statistics say that among women who know they are pregnant, 8-20 percent will lose their child to miscarriage by the 12th week. That's as high as 1 in 5 pregnancies ending in loss. There are countless women who bury the grief of miscarriage in their hearts, rarely if ever speaking about it.
Having gone through several miscarriages in a row since the birth of my youngest, I know a little about the shroud of silence surrounding pregnancy loss. Sometimes I have been silent because I wasn't ready for my children to know about them, just yet. (Kids have an uncanny way of blurting out information at the most inopportune moments.) Sometimes I was silent because I was afraid of losing my composure. And sometimes I have been silent because what people say about miscarriage can more hurtful than helpful.
What are the words that hurt and the words that heal? What should you say and not say to a friend who just miscarried?
Don't say: It's nature's way of cleaning, or, The baby probably had a genetic disease so it's better you miscarried. No one wants to hear that their baby died because of a genetic defect, even if it is true. Yes, the sad trend nowadays is to abort babies who have been diagnosed with Down syndrome or other genetic abnormalities. But there are those of us who would have lovingly carried our babies to full term and cared for them irregardless of the test results.
Instead, acknowledge the preciousness of the lost one. Your friend may have very little to remember her baby by, maybe not even an ultrasound picture. So, a small keepsake such as a prayer card or journal is far more helpful than undermining the value of the baby lost to miscarriage.
Don't say: At least it was early. True, an early miscarriage resembling a hellish period is probably not as heart wrenching as losing a child at birth or during infancy. Nonetheless, an unborn child of six weeks is no less human than a child at birth. Your friend is not grieving over a blob of tissue, but over a beloved child and whom he/she could have been.
In all honesty, with my really early miscarriages I have told myself those very words. At least it was early. At least, this time, I did not have to endure all the discomforts of the first trimester, all the while wondering in agonizing suspense whether this baby would live or die, only to suffer the pangs of labor and the loss of death. But, even though I've thought this, they're hard words to hear from anyone else. Phrases that begin with at least seem to undermine the value of the baby's life and our need to grieve.
So don't say: At least you have another child/other children. Of course, children who are living are a great consolation and blessing. But having other children does not diminish her need to grieve the one she's lost. Each child is a pearl of great price; each child lost is a shaft to the heart.
Instead, acknowledge the depth of her suffering and her right to grieve. If you've had a miscarriage before, the simple words, "I know how it is," can be so consoling. The silence surrounding miscarriage can make your friend feel isolated, so knowing that others understand her sorrow takes away a little of the loneliness. If you've never been through a miscarriage, words like, "I can't even imagine how hard this is for you. I am really so sorry," tells your friend you genuinely want to be sympathetic.
Remember that during a miscarriage, the fluctuating hormones alone often cause strong feelings of depression and emotional fragility. Even if the miscarriage started a day after the pregnancy test, your friend might really be hurting.
Don't say: You can always have another baby. After the first miscarriage, those words might offer consolation. After repeated miscarriages, they sound cheap. In either case, you don't really know. Leave those words for the doctor to say.
Instead, gently help her to see beyond her sorrow. After my third miscarriage, I had to face the hard fact that I probably wouldn't have any more kids. I felt as if I were closing the door to a chapter in my life which I had loved and relished. My sister reminded me that every stage in a child's life is wonderful and that there were still so many things to look forward to in the lives of my other children: birthdays, sports, reading books together, game nights, family dinners, summer vacations... the list is endless. I was so grateful for that conversation with her.
Whether your friend has no other children or whether she has ten, there are always plenty of things to look forward to and be grateful for.
Mary Cooney is a home-schooling mother of five who lives in Maryland. This is an excerpt from a longer article that can be found on her blog, Mercy For Marthas.
MercatorNet
Until World War II, American men had two choices: they could work or they could look for work. But today there is a third choice: they can sit at home and channel-surf. In one of the most disturbing books you will read about American society, demographer Nicholas Eberstadt describes the lot of the 7 million men in their prime years who have no job and are not looking for one.
They are, he says, almost entirely idle. They don’t volunteer, take origami lessons, or do housework. They just hang around, turning “socializing, relaxing and leisure” is a full-time occupation. It’s a scandalous phenomenon which flies under the radar of politicians, journalists and policy-makers. They need to confront an issue which Eberstadt describes as “a grave social ill”. Read about his new book, “Men Without Work” below.


Michael Cook 
Editor 
MERCATORNET



The Magnificent Seven revives the classic Western
By Maria Luisa Bellucci
The Good Guys take on some Seriously Bad Dudes
Read the full article
 
Planned Parenthood’s century and the wages of birth control
By Carolyn Moynihan
Salaries testify to the profitability of the industry.
Read the full article
 
America’s ghost legions of idle men
By Michael Cook
Male employment rate reaches Great Depression-era levels, with nearly 1 out of 6 working-age men no longer looking for employment
Read the full article
 
I have nothing to wear!
By Jennifer Minicus
A picture book for budding fashion designers
Read the full article
 
What not to say when your friend has a miscarriage
By Mary Cooney
What are the words that hurt and the words that heal?
Read the full article
 
We will help you die of boredom: Dutch govt
By Michael Cook
'Completed life' euthanasia will soon be legalised in the Netherlands
Read the full article
 
Trump and Clinton are after Catholics
By Sheila Liaugminas
He pledged reform. Her campaign planned revolt.
Read the full article
 
Why supporters of same-sex marriage call it ‘marriage equality’
By Margaret Somerville
Cloudy and ambiguous language can be ethically perilous.
Read the full article
 
Migration can prop up population but it can’t prop up culture
By Shannon Roberts
International migration is changing the face of the globe.
Read the full article
 
Home deliveries: Is anybody there?
By Joanna Roughton
Amazon's drone delivery plans highlight a dismal trend.
Read the full article


MERCATORNET | New Media Foundation 
Suite 12A, Level 2, 5 George Street, North Strathfied NSW 2137, Australia 

Designed by elleston

New Media Foundation | Suite 12A, Level 2, 5 George St | North Strathfield NSW 2137 | AUSTRALIA | +61 2 8005 8605 

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario