CYG Day 6: Empathy

When teaching empathy to a bunch of elementary students, it was explained that empathy means having an ability to "put yourself in someone else's shoes" in order to better understand how they're feeling.

Well, I would never wish that on anyone. Would never want someone to have to truly understand how I've ever felt during this grieving process. But that doesn't mean that I haven't experienced my share of empathetic people stepping up and supporting me during this journey. Actually, I think that showing empathy for someone like me can't be easy at all. Even having been there, I sometimes struggle to help others in this position when they need it. Because everyone needs something different. Everyone needs to be supported in their own ways. But I've compiled a list of ways people stepped up and metaphorically held my hand. A list of ways people empathized and supported...
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1. Sit and Talk or Sit in Silence. But Sit Together: Some of the most meaningful times I've ever spent with anyone ever in my whole life were the nights and afternoons I spent just sitting with a friend or family member. One friend in particular would come over for an hour maybe. We'd have a tea and just sit on the porch. It would be pretty cold out, but I remember it felt good to just sit. We didn't always say much. Lots of what we said were variations of how unfair it all was. And I would cry. And I remember I had these involuntary tremors back then. My legs or arms would shake and shake as we'd sit and cry and lament the lack of fairness. But when she'd leave, I wouldn't feel sad. I felt like maybe someone understood me for a little while and it helped me not to feel so alone.
2. Send a Text: I know a text message or any kind of instant message seems horribly impersonal. But I'm here to tell you it's not. At least it wasn't to me. And I think actually, it was the absence of messages from people I'd have expected them from that made me realize how powerful a short text could be for a hurting soul. "How are you today?" "I'm thinking of you." "Can I call you?" These little ways of reaching out kept me feeling connected to people when I wanted to turn myself off completely. And sometimes I did. Sometimes I'd walk away from my phone for a while for some peace and quiet. But the lift my spirit got when I'd come back to it and see that while I was off feeling my lowest, there was a huge support net out there thinking of us, is something I'm so grateful for.
3. Do Some Homework: No one wants to think about babies dying. Life is easier when you can see a pregnant woman and just imagine the happiness about to come into her life. We don't need to imagine what might happen to her if that baby were to die. It's heavy stuff. But there are a lot of resources out there, lots of groups and ways to celebrate and memorialize babies who have died. Most of what I found to be helpful, I had to find on my own. But I had a few people in my circle who would send me articles about grief. Or books about living with the loss of a baby. Friends who put me in contact with others who had walked a similar path as me. It couldn't have been easy for them to do. To get online and Google these things. To approach someone and say, "My friend's baby died, too. Would you connect with her?" And sometimes the articles weren't helpful. Some books have sat unopened. Some connections didn't pan out. But you know what? Some books were read cover to cover and live on my nightstand. Some articles helped me find articles that did help. Some connections ignited something special that I know I'll always have moving forward wherever life takes me. If you take the time to do a little research in order to give some help without pushing too hard, you can really make a difference to someone who's hurting.
4. Things Matter: I realize this is maybe a controversial one, and some people will say that time spent together and being emotionally available are most important, and I'm not here to deny that. But I am going to say that the "things" we were given can sometimes mean as much to me as the texts, the resources, the time. This is not because I'm shallow or materialistic. "Things" are all we physically have left of Ryan, so yes. Things matter. A teddy bear made out of his "coming home" outfit. A guardian angel statuette. A butterfly scarf. A constant stream of cards flooding our mailbox for weeks and weeks. (Cards I have kept in a keepsake box. Cards I still read to feel supported when I need it). A grocery delivery. A gift card that funded a garden. (A garden I'm looking at now as I write this). A stone for that garden. You don't have to spend a lot. Make something yourself. But the tangible gifts, the things we can hold on to, they really do matter.
5. Visit: Not the person grieving. The baby they've lost. Just go. Go to the cemetery, if that's where baby rests now, and visit. Rich and I don't live near a lot of friends and family. Mostly everyone is over a 40 minute drive away. (And in the case of MY family, a 2-7 hour drive, depending who you are). So, casual visits to Ryan aren't really super convenient for our friends and family. But when they do come to visit us, and they say, "I'd like to stop and visit Ryan while I'm here." Well, it quite literally brings tears to my eyes every time. (Even now just thinking about it!) So if it's possible, take time to visit. Just pop by and sit for a moment. Tidy the flowers. Sing a song. Read a book. And baby's mom and dad don't even have to be there. But it's always nice to send a message afterward or leave something behind just to say/show you stopped by.
6. Celebrate: Because we just celebrated Ryan's first birthday, I've recently spent quite a bit of time writing about this. But any way at all you can celebrate baby on milestones, anniversaries, holidays... do it! And you can make a big show of it, or keep it quiet and personal. But let mom and dad know you're celebrating. And put a reminder in your calendar so you don't forget. Our biggest fear is that over time, people will forget.
7. Be There: This is what it all comes down to. Just be there. Be available. No matter what you have going on in your life. If you take even a minute to send that text. Pop a card in the mail. Make a phone call. A pit-stop by the cemetery. Just be there. The one time I attended a group support session, there was a woman there whose father was with her so she wouldn't have to go alone. That's being there. If you've ever considered yourself a friend to this person, show up when they need it the most. You won't regret it.

What was supposed to be a quick little post today has turned into quite a bit more than that. But I think it's important. I don't think I could have come as far as I have in the last 13 months without the empathetic support of people like you. People taking time to learn about and understand what we need.

So thank you. And feel free to pass this on, especially to those who are currently in a position to help someone else like me.