Do you know someone who has lost a baby or an older child? Would you like to comfort them somehow, but don't know how? Prepare yourself for the fact that you simply cannot take away the pain of parents who have lost a son or daughter; it is beyond human capability. On the other hand, words can be powerful, and you can either bring comfort to a grieving parent's soul or deeply wound them.
Adriana Kábová on the banks of the Vltava River, on Střelecký Island
When my own baby died, I was surprised by many of the reactions from people around me. Some were kind, others unpleasant. What shocked me the most was how many people pulled away and pretended nothing had happened. I realized they probably didn't know how to react. But avoiding me, or at least avoiding the topic of the child's death, is what hurt me the most.
After a child's death, parents often find themselves in a strange vacuum and feel very lonely. This happens simply because those around them don't know what to say or do, so they prefer to pull back and avoid reacting to such a difficult life situation. Fears of bringing up the deceased child are misplaced; for the first few months, parents can barely think about anything else.
Alongside ignorance, a common type of reaction is a desperate effort to come up with something positive—something to cheer up parents with empty arms. But that simply cannot work. The parents can sense the effort to comfort them, but it completely misses the mark.
Sometimes I was amazed by what people said to me. I understand they probably felt the need to comfort or cheer me up. But more than once, it ended up making me feel sorry for *them*, struggling as they were and not knowing how to act around me.
I recommend focusing instead on sentences that acknowledge the death of the child and the weight of the parents' grief. A simple “I'm sorry”, “I am so sorry” is sometimes completely enough. “My deepest condolences” might be seen by some as a stiff phrase, but it actually holds deep meaning and certainly belongs among the most welcome expressions of sympathy.
Words that can support grieving parents:
I am so sorry.
I am deeply sorry.
My sincere condolences.
If you know each other very well, offering a hug can be a source of support for parents after the death of a child. It is always best to ask first if it is okay and if the parents would be comfortable with it at that moment. Respect their answer without judgment if they decline your offer; not everyone is a "hugger."
I am here for you and will listen whenever you need.
Don't hesitate to write to me anytime; you will never be a bother.
It is very important to know how to listen to parents after the loss of their child. Often, they need help sharing their burden, but very few people want to hear about dying. Hold back on sharing stories about what happened to people you know and what helped them. Instead, focus on the story or insight that the grieving person might want to share with you, but often find no space to do so. Let the parents know that you are ready to listen. You can say something like "I am here for you and will listen whenever you need" or "don't hesitate to write to me anytime; you will never be a bother."
Would you like to tell me something about (child's name)?
And when you are figuring out whether parents are in the mood to share their grief with you, it is good not to be afraid to mention the name of the deceased child. Many people tend to stop saying the child's name, as if it suddenly became forbidden. Yet, for the parents, they are still their beloved son or daughter, even though they are no longer here. And when no one wants to talk about them or even say their name anymore, it feels as though those around them suddenly refuse to acknowledge that they ever existed.
I was always touched when someone among my acquaintances was not afraid to speak my son's name. It warmed my heart that at least someone remembered him, even though he was here for such a short time.
Words that usually rub salt in the wound:
Be glad you still have another child.
You are still young, you will have more.
You just have to think positively.
Worse things happen to people.
I know how you feel because...
Nature wanted it this way. It was meant to be.
Your child is in a better place now.
At least they weren't older.
Are you thinking about having another one?
Sentences starting with "at least."
Aside from the group of people who worry about hurting the parents with their words and prefer to stay silent, there is another group that doesn't think before speaking at all and simply blurts something out, believing it will lessen the parents' sorrow. If the parents have other children, someone will always make sure to mention it. "Be glad you still have another child." Yes, parents are certainly glad to have another child, but that does not lessen their grief in any way. Similarly ineffective are virtually all sentences that begin with "at least…" At least you are okay, at least it didn't turn out even worse, at least everything else is going well for you, at least you can still have more children, and so on.
And then there are those who feel they know exactly what parents go through after the death of a child. Because someone they know went through something similar, they know what helped them and what the parents should or shouldn't do, and what they need. Never say the sentence "I know how you feel because…" because you simply do not know. Every grief is deeply personal, and no one can give parents a precise guide on how to navigate it.
"When our Oliver died, I wasn't able to speak to anyone except my husband. After returning from the hospital, we stayed at his parents' house for a few days. Everyone acted as if nothing had happened. On the third day, my mother-in-law sat down next to me in the living room and said she knew exactly what I was going through. She apparently had a miscarriage once. She started giving me advice on what I should and shouldn't do now. I just stared at her. And I told her she had absolutely no idea what I was going through. I walked away in tears, and we didn't speak to each other again until we left."
An experience from our client Eva B.
Well-meaning judgments like “nature wanted it this way”, “it was meant to be”, or don't help either
“your child is in a better place now”. If these statements are meant truly seriously, they contain a reference to spirituality that the parent may not share with the speaker.
And because grief shown in public is generally not very common in our society, people around parents sometimes do not know how to handle it. That is how remarks like “don't cry, it won't bring him/her back anyway” or “above all, you have to think positively” come about. Similarly, the remark “other people have it even worse” is not supportive at all. The pressure to smile and encouragement to suppress grief deny the parents' experienced emotions and their need to mourn.
A sentence that can hurt parents of babies who died stillborn or were born very prematurely goes: “at least it wasn't older”. Watch out, direct comparison does not apply here. The parent simply lost a child. Period.
When it comes to babies, spare yourself the frequently heard sentence “you are still young, you'll have another one”. Parents are experiencing indescribable pain, grieving precisely for that unique baby they have just lost. This sentence feels like a slap in the face. Furthermore, you may not know the exact reasons for the baby's death, and sometimes procedures occur after which another pregnancy is no longer possible. And if you haven't stood by the parents' side throughout their grief and aren't among their absolute closest, completely avoid asking such questions when you bump into them so that you don't end up having to talk about: “And are you already thinking about another one?”
So we recommend definitely not ignoring a child's death or passing over it in silence. It's just that in such a case, less is sometimes more, and “I'm sorry” and " I am so sorry" as a first reaction are completely enough. And then you can ask the parents what practical things you can help them with, or perhaps suggest some directly. What is valued most is being able to listen to the parents and everything they want to share, perhaps even repeatedly.
The author, Adriana Kábová, is a grief counselor and funeral guide who lost her first baby.