If you know me in real life and have found this blog, please honour my wishes and don't read on. I need this place to freely write my feelings to help me to heal and if you're reading, I'll censor myself. I have no way of knowing who is reading so all I can do is trust you to honour my wishes. Thank you.

(this doesn't apply to any of my fellow mums of angels I've been lucky enough to meet in real life)

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

A Dad's Grief

DH's grief has always been different to mine. From talking to others and reading, it's different in the typical ways that female and male's grief generally is. I've always talked about it more, cried more, and have turned inwards rather than outwards from non babyloss friends and things I used to do. His reaction was to go back to work and try to stay busy. I'm lucky in that he does show emotion and talk about it a lot more than some other men. It's just been that generally it's only when I've instigated conversations about it. Some in ways, he hasn't had a choice. I was such a mess in the early weeks and months, that he had to be the strong one, return phone calls, do the grocery shopping, and all those other things that don't stop just because your baby died.

Lately though he's been bringing up Matilda a lot more. I'm not sure if is just his grief surfacing after a period of time, or my pregnancy progressing is bringing it all up for him, or the fact I'm coping better these days means he feels like he can. It helps me to know he thinks about Matilda so much but breaks my heart all over again to see him crying about the daughter he's never going to get to hold again. The other day a friend asked me to reply to a comment on her blog from someone who felt a early miscarriage was just a painful as a stillbirth or neonatal death and they were jealous of us having funerals and acknowledgment of our babies. My point here isn't to take away from the pain of miscarriage. I know it's devastating. But I don't think you can say you know how I feel if you've had an early miscarriage. I told DH this and he stood there with tears running down his face and said 'How could anyone be jealous of me, I had my daughter for four days and then watched her die'. Grief is selfish and sometimes I forget just how much he hurts.


  1. Their grief is very different from ours in so many ways, but it hurts just the same. XO

  2. I think K grieves in a similar fashion - we're 4 months out and now that I'm 'ok' (i.e. not losing it) it's his turn to grieve and break down and miss Foster. And it breaks my heart every time that he only got to hold his son once for 20 minutes.

    And yes - grief is selfish. It's why friends and family who don't get it drop off. It takes work to support those who are grieving, and I believe in turn, grief builds empathy for those who are feeling the same. I am much more empathetic to other parents who have lost than I am to people who don't know this kind of pain.

  3. People are funny. I've had both--the 10 week miscarriage (D&C required), and of course had Addison, who died 7 days after her birth at 38.5 weeks. After the miscarriage I was sad, no doubt about it, but I didn't even go online to seek support (and I usually go online for everything). But after losing Addison...words cannot express the deep sense of loss and sadness and longing and devastation I feel. This experience has forever colored the lens through which I see the world. And not in a good way. Nothing to be jealous of here, folks. It's like comparing a pistol shot to a nuclear bomb. But that's just my opinion based on my own experience.