Dads Grieve Too
When we think about pregnancy loss and stillbirth, we often default to focusing on the mother. Which makes sense. The woman is the person carrying the baby and ultimately, the one who is responsible for bringing that baby into the world, despite the outcome. We are experiencing grief and trauma physically and emotionally. Our bodies held death inside of it, but our partners have to witness our agony with their hands tied.
People tend to forget about the father’s experience. He not only lost a child, but then had to stand by and watch his partner go through painful labor to delivery their child who is already dead or have an emergency C-section, a major surgery with weeks of recovery time, just to bury their baby.
My husband is my hero. He does everything in his power to make my life easier. I know watching me be induced and deliver our sweet Georgia was so difficult for him. He couldn’t take the pain away from me. We couldn’t swap places. He felt so helpless. The man who fixes everything, could not undo what had happened to our baby girl. He could not make this journey any easier for us both. Rob, and I think most men, have this innate need to protect their families and to provide for them. He could not protect Georgia anymore than I could, and he could not protect me from the pain we were both going to walk through. All of this coupled with just raw grief was a huge weight for him to carry.
As soon as we left the hospital, the first thing Rob did was call the funeral home. We didn’t have the chance to discuss what our plans were, whether Georgia would be cremated, or buried, if we would have a service or not. But that man knew what I needed, and he made the call. And then he stopped to get me food. He had one more stop to make before going home. He stopped at Kroger. I was confused. Is he really going to the grocery store now? When I asked what he needed he said he was running in to get ace bandages and cabbage.
This man knew my milk would be coming in (another painful reminder) and he looked up ways to help me through that. He didn’t ask, he just did.
Something I didn’t realize before loss is that men and women grieve differently. In our case, Rob kept himself busy. He couldn’t fix what happened to Georgia, but as soon as we got home, he knew he could take care of me and our boys. That’s what he does best. I remember thinking “ok, He seems fine now. Why am I not fine?”, but he wasn’t fine. He was just busy.
I hate that men have grown up thinking they aren’t supposed to feel. That they are supposed to be tough and not cry. That’s absolute garbage. When something traumatic happens in their lives and they are emotionally stunted, they can turn to drugs and alcohol, their relationships suffer. They internalize their feelings until one day they just break.
Thankfully, Rob and I were able to work through some of that and really open up with each other and communicate. He also has some awesome friends in his life that check in with him and let him spill his guts. Seeing our own therapists and joining a child loss group was also incredibly helpful. All of this helps us to continue in a healthy way. You never know when a powerful grief wave will knock you out, so having these arsenals in your back pocket are invaluable.
If you know a man who has experienced child loss, or pregnancy loss, please check in on them. I can guarantee you; it will mean the world to them.
If you are a loss dad. I see you. I’m sorry you’re hurting. Keep talking keep feeling.
My husbands daughter died. He stood by my side and held my hand, with tears in his eyes as I delivered her lifeless body. He helped plan his daughters viewing. He had to pick out a casket. He spoke at her service. He cared for me as I continued to heal physically all while still being present for our sons. We did all of this together. He is grieving just as much as I am.
Fathers Grieve Too.
