How to help

Hi everyone,

I just wanted to share this link that I found to another blog. She's a mom who also had a stillborn baby and she wrote a blog series on how to help. She's right on; so if you've been wondering how to best help us right now, how to communicate with us, and how to show that you care, then take a few minutes and read through her blog series. They're not too long, and she does a fantastic job verbalizing many of the thing that I'm feeling right now.

http://mollypiper.com/2008/03/how-to-help-your-grieving-friend/

It's so hard to verbalize what we need right now, because it varies from minute to minute. One minute I'll long to be asked about Jude. I'll want to share with you about his button nose, or that he had the Storey chin, or his daddy's eyebrows (I know,... a weird detail, but one of the first things I noticed!). The next minute it's all I can do to paste a blank look on my face and go along with whatever weather-related (or other completely neutral/boring) conversation is taking place. It's a lonely place to be. I want people to know that we picked up his ashes last week, and that it totally sucked. But how do I tell people that? How do I bring that up in conversation without feeling like I'm sucking the life out of a room? I want friends to know that yesterday (for no obvious reason) was one of the worst days yet. But I don't feel free to express these things unless you ask. I don't want to feel like the perpetual Debbie Downer. I already have enough things to feel insecure about right now (self-worth and body-image issues are not the least of which.) without adding the feeling that I'm a super bummer to be around.

So, don't be afraid to ask about our situation. If you bring up the subject in a way that lets us know you really don't mind entering this experience with us, then we have the freedom to share with you. I'll warn you, sharing might be painful for both of us, but there is joy to share as well. The joy of the brief existence of our son here on earth, and the joy of his existence that we'll join some day in heaven.