To whoever is saying something to you or living obliviously?

Those things you think but wouldn't say out loud, or maybe put in your blog, but only if you are sure they wouldn't hear them.

Say it here, speak it, get it out, without judgement.

I wish I could tell the person who compares my loss of my son at 41 weeks and 3 days living on this earth to her miscarriage at 9 weeks that it's just not the same. I hate the idea of "grief olympics" but for me there is a difference, and somehow I feel disrespected by it. I would never say that aloud to anyone else.

I wish I could tell my friend who is pregnant that she has no idea how close to the edge of the cliff she walks everyday, and everytime she says something about 'when' the baby will do x and so, I want to correct her and say, "You mean 'if', not 'when.' IF the baby makes it to survival and isn't early and isn't stillborn and actually comes home and doesn't die. IF, not WHEN."

But then I realize for most people it is a very simple formula that actually holds true - sex = positive pregnancy test = pregnancy = baby = child. I'm the freak here, not her.

I wish I could tell the people who know about our loss, but are too self-centered or chicken or oblivious or uncomfortable to acknowledge it, that I hope their worlds continue to move along in the perfect and expected way. However, if by some twist of fate, they should find themselves walking through their darkest hour, I hope that someone reaches out to them in a way that they could never bring themselves to do for us.

Mindy - a friend from work told me that someone else asked her how I was and when she said 'not great' replied with 'I know how she feels - I had a miscarriage'. It hurt me as well. I know everyone's pain is everyone's pain but for me, there's a difference.

I wish I could tell the people who think I'm 'back to normal' after three months because they see me laughing and talking for a period of time that I'm nowhere near it and not sure that's even the goal here. They don't see me crying everyday. They don't feel the pain in my heart when I see a women with a baby and think 'that should be me'.

I wish I could tell the friends who's kids I watch (I'm enjoying it btw) that when they joke about 'I hope they don't put you off having kids' that I've already been through a parents worse nightmare and if anything, it's made me more desperate to have kids. That having to tell them off for fighting, or deal with meltdowns is nothing compared to holding your baby for the first time knowing that they're dying, organise their funeral, and say goodnight to a photo and an urn of ashes each night.

I wish I could tell the friend that keeps contacting me and wanting to see me that she's done permanent damage to our friendship in more than one way:
- Walking up to my mother the day of the funeral (3 days after Matilda died) and demanding to know what happened.
- Texting me two days after that to tell me about something that happened in her life and not even including a 'thinking of you'.
- Texting me two weeks to the day after Matilda died and asking if I wanted to go out for lunch to 'catch-up'.
- After I responded to the above with 'I can barely get out of bed let alone leave the house - this is going to take weeks and weeks' sending me a letter 2 weeks later again wanting to catch up and wanting to know when I'd be getting back into cycling.
Now I don't want to see her at all.

Maddie, I know just what you mean, I have a friend like that that I will never speak to again, it's just a waste of time to explain to her the depth of what has happened to us. I just received an email in fact from someone who learned of my loss who said she hoped "I was beginning to get over it and move on". HA! I don't even have the heart to email her back and rip her a new one, I just dont care about her ignorance, but all the same, I hate it.

I want the life we were planning. It was even discussed with my parents that if I stay in one place too long, it could be trouble. It sounds awful but right now I'm feeling a need for the ocean. I don't want to leave our son behind, it makes me nervous to let him go to the restroom by himself, but at the same time I want to do something like put him at my parents' house so I know he's safe, then just disappear for a while to ramble, just let me go. I keep remembering the different oceans, the cold rocks and the foam, the cliffs and that sort of foggy land in the distance, that white sand with the water so warm you could stay in it all day, and feels like that's where I need to go.

Yes, I'm happy you had a baby. Yes, she's lovely. Yes, you look great pregnant, I hope everything does fine. I don't want to come near either of you. Something will go wrong, I'll be the jinx, it's contagious, and the baby will die. No, I am fully aware that it is just some kind of fear reaction on my part because there's no way my bizarre genetic warpedness will transfer to you through the air, but please, understand that I just won't be able to come near babies till somewhere after they are six or seven months old, when the child starts to get some kind of self-expressive faces to make at me I'll be fine and just as friendly to the kid as any of these others. I'm not stopping P from looking at the baby because he's a boy, it has nothing to do with that, yes, yes, he's allowed to play with the baby doll in home living, he just stops because I came in and he knows I normally run from babies...

To a work colleague who told me '18 months is a long time ago now.'

I would like to tell him that, yes, I understand that 18 months is a long time ago. I know that 2008 probably seems so far away to him. But it only feels like yesterday to me and she was my daughter, I loved her. It still hurts. Eighteen months is the blink of an eye in the face of all that hurt.

And that if he's waiting for the person he knew 19 months ago to come back, he's going to be waiting a very long time.

Thank you for the opportunity to air this Eliza.

I want to say to those in my family who think I should be "over it" and "moving on" that my two babies lost at 9 weeks and 19 weeks were unique individual people and I will mourn the lives they have lost as long as I have to. You can't put a timetable on grief.

I want to say to other babyloss mothers that I am so very very very sorry for the loss of your precious child or children.

And I want to tell you that just because our experiences of loss are indeed, SO VERY DIFFERENT, doesn't mean that when I try to show you sympathy or empathize or understand I am either comparing or showing disrespect but merely reaching out a hand.

I now feel even less inclined to reach out to other babyloss mothers than I did unless it is taken the wrong way.

And you feel disrespected?

I am jealous of those who got to hold their children. Even knowing they were going to die.

I wish I really had felt my baby move. I feel so stupid to have thought had felt it.

I wish I had been brave enough to look at my baby.

I wish that I didn't understand what Bee says. I wish that I didn't sometimes feel that I'm coming in in last place in the Grief Olympics.

I wish I could tell my friends not to post their cute baby pictures of theirs on Facebook or pregnancy pictures because it hurts to see them and I'm sick of hiding new friends every day. Sure I could just not login, but I'm addicted to playing those stupid games on there because it's the one time of day I'm not thinking of the fact I lost my little girl almost three months ago.

I wish people would realize that my loss at 12 weeks gestation is just as important as any other loss. I wish people would realize that my child was loved just as much as my living child, and that no matter what, to me s/he was a baby, was MY baby and is important.

I want to tell the anonymous posters here and Bee that it is YOU that are participating in the grief olympics, it is YOU that alienate me. Of course miscarriages are losses, of course they mean something to you, and you know nothing about the circumstances behind the person who compared her 9 week loss to mine. This isnt a contest, there is no last place, our babies are dead. We ALL lose.

I'm asking people to please remember that the very idea of this thread is air thoughts that are contaminating us, that we know are not politically correct or pleasant or nice, but that we still feel.

That can be interpreted in hurtful ways, either way. Try to remember that no one is intending to insult personally, only face their own truths and perceptions and acknowledged that babyloss has many facets and sides. Most of which are ugly, many of which aren't fair.

Bee and the anon posters. I'm not trying to make this the grief olympics and I'm not saying that a miscarriage isn't a loss. It's the precise sentence 'I know how you feel because I had a miscarriage' that I hate. I wouldn't say I know what's its like to have a miscarriage because I don't (and I hope I never do) but I can emphathise with you having lost a baby just like you can emphathise with us.

And I agree with what Eliza says above. We sometimes think ugly thoughts and it's only place like these we say them.

Maddie, yes, that's it exactly, and I echo what Eliza said too. It's never my intention to belittle anyone elses grief, and it saddens me that anyone would want to do that for mine. Miscarriages are definitely a sad and terrible thing, and grieving for them is your right. What I was getting at in my original post, (which was deeply personal and only something I would share here -- and yes it may be ugly, and it may not be politically correct, but it was what I felt) is that I resented this person telling me that our situations were the same, that she knew "just how I felt" -- because in all honestly she doesn't, and I hope she never does. It's not about my grief being "bigger" or anyone coming in last in the "grief olympics", it's just about me feeling alone with my IRL friends, because though they may want to understand, sometimes all I want to hear is that they DONT understand, but they are praying for us and sending us love.

I wish I could tell people I know in RL who are 'thinking of me' (but who haven't called, sent a card, or anything else), that thinking of me provides me no comfort whatsoever. At least PRAY for me or Abby, and if you're not the praying sort, then call me or send me a quick e-mail or a short note. Thinking of me and nothing else feels cowardly, selfish and lazy.

I wish I could tell my friend who lost her 6 year old, that even though I cannot fathom her pain and her extent of loss, I yearn to have met my Will, held him, got to hear his laugh, his sleeping breaths, gazed into his eyes, and knew his precious personality. And though she gives me good advice on dealing wth loss, sometimes I'm not ready for it yet.

I wish I could tell people who tell me that 'maybe God let this happen to save Abby's life', or that 'maybe this is for the better, because he might've had a heart defect or something' that their words provide me no comfort and that they have no idea why this happened or how God works so they probably need to shut it.

I wish I could tell my friends that just one call a week doesn't feel enough right now.

I wish I could tell all the people who never responded back to my email about losing Will that their absence is more hurtful then they will ever know.

This is a post that needs to be written... my mind is stewing. Random thoughts: to those who have suffered miscarriage, no dishonour is intended. But I've always struggled ever so much with this notion of 'pain olympics', which has always felt like a very smug sort of scolding. As though it's selfish or wrong or unfair to value perspective over the doctrine of "all grief is the same".

There's relativity, there's the universality of loss and pain and hurt. Yes. Loss is loss, and hurt is hurt. But there were so, so many times in my recent history that I needed, desperately, to engage in what some people would call "pain olympics". Those same people will wag their fingers at you and tsk you for indulging your own story and your own pain - at what they perceive as being at the expense of someone else's. And sometimes, that scolding is just pure obliviousness.

In my frustration at people who are crushed at the healthy birth of a child via an unwanted c-section, I've been scolded "how dare you invalidate the pain of another". In being utterly agog at that pain - agog that those people use the word "grief" in relation to a birth experience that didn't go as planned - I have, I suppose, indulged in pain olympics. But sometimes, perspective outweighs fashionable manners. Not that it was my job to educate that person - that was just my own rage finding an unwitting outlet. But was that frustration wrong? No. It was human.

"Pain olympics" has helped me. Sometimes, I've needed it not only to feel validated in pain, but to give me perspective that I needed on what I'd lost and what I had to be thankful for. Walking the halls of the hospital I saw older children undergoing chemotherapy, and felt utterly humbled in the company of those parents. Would I say to them, "I understand what you're going through" simply because I have a baby in the NICU? Absolutely not. That's not pain olympics, though. That's just good sense.

Continuing to think about this... and truly baffled as to how you address it without invalidating the pain of another. It's a very tender, raw, and narrow tightrope.

I wish I could tell the people at work, that every picture of a co-workers newborn baby that I have to stare at when I go to the sign in book in the morning, starts my day off with a knife in my heart, and that I have to choke back tears, and feelings of hurt and jealousy for the rest of the day. When I had my daughter, I had not had a loss yet, but another woman there had, so I deliberately never sent in a picture or visited school with my l/c because I did not want to cause her hurt. Why cannot some see that this hurts me???

I wish I could tell a co-worker who got pregnant after I lost Devyn, (I had no choice but to deal with because we taught the same grade level), how much it hurt me to be around her. I would also like to tell her how much she hurt me when she brought her new baby to see me in my classroom, the only place at work when she decided to visit I felt I could hide, and she sought me out anyway.

I wish I could tell people that their exaggerated enthusiasm in my presence is inappropriate crap. I also hate any sentence that starts with "at least," so I wish I could tell people who feel compelled to spin my situation postively, to go do that somewhere else.
I wish I could tell everyone who sent me a Christmas card that completely overlooked my loss this year, (and instead the written messages were full of the overuse of punctuation, specificly exclamation points,) that they made my Christmas even worse.
I wish I could tell some of my family members to get in the game.

Thanks for asking Eliza,

One of the most, to this day, infuriating moments of my life was when someone dismissed my grief by throwing out there "Yes, you lost your son and that's very sad and all, but other people have problems too."

I try not to play pain olympics, because I remember the way I and my son and my pain in losing that boy (and so much more than that boy) in that moment. The intent was to rouse me from my perceived self-centredness and drowning in grief and clinging to pain.

But imo, saying that two things are different, even if they share a core (loss, in this instance) isn't necessarily doing that. I've had a m/c at 9 weeks and at the time I thought it was the worst thing that had ever happened, partially because I lost so much innocence. I can say with 100% certainty that the loss of Gabriel was so much worse than that miscarriage. The pain I went through losing Chickadee was a shadow of the pain in losing Gabriel. I would not assume that to be the same for everyone.

But nor would I assume that the pain I've felt in my own situation is the same as what Kate went through with her boys in the NICU or what Eve is facing now. I do not understand those situations and I have no idea what to say about them. I can stand on top of my own pain and say - I have had pain too. I know what hurt feels like. I don't know your particular hurt, necessarily, but I know hurt. Would you like some company in your hurt for awhile?

I would love to tell someone specific that grief is necessarily self-centered. And that once you pass through it, you become more outwardly focused and more compassionate. But you must be allowed your inward focus first. I don't think you learn that until you live it.

First of all I would like to apologize if my words offended anyone.

I too was airing the thoughts that I would never say aloud.

My losses have been dismissed as trivial by SO many people, including family and friends. My grief has been seen as inappropriate, naming my children has been seen as pointless and "creepy", keeping mementos has been seen as "weird". I have been told to "get over it" and "move on" so many times. The first time 4 weeks after my second loss. So reading the words of another babylost mama apparently dismissing the pain of another miscarriage sufferer brings all those hurts back to my heart.

Again I sincerely apologize for perceiving a slight where none was intended.

Our experiences are of course all different. Two people who miscarry at 9 weeks can and will have completely differing experiences of that loss and the pain that goes along with it.

All I have ever offered in this community is in essence what Eliza put so eloquently;
"I have had pain too. I know what hurt feels like. I don't know your particular hurt, necessarily, but I know hurt. Would you like some company in your hurt for awhile?"

I want to say to the other anonymous ladies that your losses ARE important. Your pain IS important. Don't ever think that they aren't.

I wish I could say to my own mother that I wanted her to WANT to see her only grandson. I still want so badly for her to ask to see his photograph.

I wish I could tell my friend that telling me you were crying for me and then disappearing from my life for months hurt me deeply.

I wish I could tell my husband just how terrified I am that we will lose the baby I am now carrying too instead of putting on a mask of optimism to keep him from fear.

Even if two women have each lost a baby on their due date because of the same reason, they will not know how the other feels. Everyone brings their own experiences and their own circumstances to their loss. Everyone experiences it differently and no two people ever walk precisely the same path.

I 'only' suffered a miscarriage. And I would never presume to tell anyone that I understood their pain - even someone who suffered a missed miscarriage right at the end of the first trimester that wasn't discovered until well into the second. But I can understand some of the pain and anger and devastation that they feel. And because of my loss I can start to understand some of the pain and trauma of those who have lost babies at full term. Not to say that my experience is the same; of course it's not. It's different and I would never in a million years say that I understood ANYONE else's experience because I don't.

Paula that would have broken my heart. I'm so sorry you have to cope with that.

Ditto Catherine W. It must be so hard to have to work with people who can't get it.

Mindy, you're right. Noone who lives here wins.

kate, i can imagine that I might have been one of those people who saw a c-section as a 'failure', before. Jesus, if only that was my worst problem now.....

To the person in the grocery SCREAMING at his child because the little boy is tired and whiny, "My little boys DIED!!! Do you know what I wouldn't give to have a little boy right now? No, you don't. Stop screaming at your little one and take good care of him!"

To my mother in law: I used to be closer to you than to my own mother, but I can't forgive your casual dismissal of our loss. I will never trust you again and I will never ask you for anything. I hate you.

I wish I could tell everyone that tells me to be grateful that "At least your daughter lived and is healthy" that just because I have one healthy baby doesn't cancel out the fact that there were two. My daughter's health is not balance for my son's death, it doesn't cancel it out. Yes, I do have a baby whereas many women leave the hospital empty handed, but I was pregnant with TWO, the second being my only son who has died. I also would like to shove "It wasn't meant to be, or It's God's will" up the asses of the insensitive jerks who seem to use those phrases when they haven't got anything to say. I don't believe for one minute God intended my son to die, nor do I believe that his life was not meant to be. I would also like to tell my family who felt their Vegas vacation was more important than the funeral of my dead son that they are a disgrace to the human race and God forbid one of your children dies and no one from the family attends the funeral. They can rot as far as I'm concerned. I used to feel embarassed that not one member of my family attended my son's funeral, now I am enraged.

Oh margaret, you reminded me.

Hey, folks who put up this billboard of big blue eyed baby grinning toothlessly at us with big bold words saying "GOD IS PROLIFE!" - you need to Stop. And. THINK. about what you are saying.

I get what you intend.

But it doesn't feel very good to hear that God apparently is prolife unless it's MY babies. That apparently, according to your published worldview, God wants my babies to die (otherwise, they'd live, wouldn't they? Seeing's how God is all for life! Woooo!).

You hurt people with those messages. You hurt me, whose child had just died. You hurt the woman who had no choice but termination or both she and her child were dead. You hurt the woman who had to make an awful decision to carry a baby who was sentenced to death at or before birth and told her baby's life in utero would be painful and slow march to death or to let it die quickly and painlessly.

And you haven't changed a single person's mind about abortion by telling them that God thinks they should do something different.

All you've done is further wound those of us who would give anything to have our children with us again.

See, Eliza, the thing is that God is pro-life... unless He has a "reason" to take a baby. Because, surely, there must be some reason He wanted my baby and your babies and the babies of all of the other poor women on this board.

When you figure out that reason, somebody, anybody-- please let me know what it is.