Giving Back

There are so many things that losing a baby steals from a Mom. We lose innocence, optimism, fulfilled dreams, hope, maybe faith and some really important relationships. It sucks. It hurts. It feels like it may swallow us whole. But when we are open to it, it can give us things too. And when those beautiful things become ours and we are able to stand solidly and hold those gifts, they provide us with opportunities to give back.

In the first years after losing Kendall, on or around the anniversary date, I would find agencies that worked with families that were struggling and I would donate diapers and formula in memory of Kendall. Some years, I would share my story and other years only I would know the reason behind my giving. I would buy gifts and clothes for Christmas and donate them. As time went on and Kendall would have been school aged, I would donate a backpack and supplies at the beginning of school years. It was kind, and I am sure it helped people, but it also helped me heal and validated my connection with Kendall.

Those opportunities to give were great, and I still do them now and again. But the kind of giving back that has become most important to me, is the kind that offers wisdom and peace gained from walking with grief and ultimately befriending it. There are many ways one can do this. And each way is as unique as we are. These are a few of my favorite give backs:

Compassion– Once we have walked alone through the loss of a baby or child and seen and felt pain and grief deeper than we ever imagined, we understand that a kind word or gesture can come at the right time and provide us with a needed lift.

Empathy– Losing a baby made me feel even more isolated and disconnected from the rest of the world than I already did. I could not imagine ANYONE had a single, solitary clue about how I felt or what I needed. But there were more moments than I can count that strangers and loved ones popped up or popped in with an unexpected kindness or look that said “I care and I see you”. Walking truly with and through grief has allowed me to spot when someone is feeling like they are drowning. And because I can remember what that feels like, and have both been given gifts from others to ease that, and had moments when no one noticed or acknowledged me or my pain, I choose to give kindness.

Forgiveness– When I was drowning in grief, I was an awful friend, sister & daughter. I had no intention of hurting people but I could not get myself together to be there for people. I cancelled plans. I ignored calls and voicemails. I did not have cheer and excitement to give when things were going great for others. I cared but I simply could not muster the energy or actions it took to be there. They understood and loved me through it, so I give that back when I know someone is struggling and/or in pain. I let them know they can cancel, not show up and check out if they need to. I have been there and I give it back.

Words– More often than not, I could not find the words to express how I was feeling. Most of that was because I had too many days when I did not even understand what was happening in my heart or my mind. Grief fog is a real thing and it is a nightmare. But even when I knew how I felt, words failed me. And that was difficult for a lover of words, like me. Yet, for a long time, years, not months, I could not find the words for my pain. I found great comfort in the words of others. Books, articles, and cards became lifelines. They found me where I was and inched me outward and upward until my head was above water and the feeling of drowning eased. So, I give that back. I share words of others that helped me and words I have developed on my own as time has moved on and healing has continued. I am direct, intentional and honest with my words when I share them. I share them after I have listened to the words of the person I care for is sharing. I do my best to balance the sharing and listening because I also remember times when people would try to be helpful with sharing but it made it worse. And in those times when I overstep or misstep, I apologize and ask what I can do better.

What I have found is that perfection is never the goal, authenticity is.

When I have shown up as myself, flaws and all, in the most authentic version of myself, I can give back in the best ways possible. We do not need to solve things for others or make them disappear. We simply need to remind them they are not alone and that we will walk with them as they grieve. If you have something to offer to someone grieving, offer it. If you need something as you are grieving, ask. We are all in this together and will find ourselves in the places of both taking in and giving back. Let’s honor where each of us are standing.

Beth Ann Morhardt
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Beth Ann Morhardt is an Empowerment Specialist, specializing in domestic violence and its impact on children and parenting. She is Mom to an angel baby named Kendall who she lost via miscarriage in 1998. After much grief and healing work, soul searching and deep reflection she chose not to have other children. While this was often misunderstood by others as a reaction to losing Kendall, for her it was an empowered decision based in love. Being a Mom with no living children allows her to be available and open to being the proud aunt to two of the coolest kids on the planet (and that is not in any way bias, it is simply true). As she navigated the grief and healing journey of Kendall’s loss she was inspired to dig deeper under the pain and begin to look at all areas of her life in which she could live more truthfully. Through this Beth Ann chose to speak of childhood sexual abuse she survived and kept silent about for over thirty years. This choice has allowed her to walk in authenticity and healing in ways she never imagined, never mind hoped for. Walking in authenticity and truth is not always easy. Often the path looks more like an obstacle course than a paved walkway but there is no greater feeling at the end of the day than knowing you lived each moment present and authentically. Read more on her blog, Indeeditistime.

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