Trauma Mamas

Don’t say “I get it,” unless your child died too.

Don’t talk to me at work about my child’s death, or memorial, or funeral, or anything related her death. Compliment, say hello, remember her, short and sweet. Work is where we go for a distraction, a break from the constant grief and pain. And do you really think I want to go into details or have a lengthy conversation about my child’s memorial? Next time you’re at work I’ll come by and ask how your dad treated you when you were a child, if you ever felt abandoned by those you love or some other deep rooted fear or emotional trauma and I’ll see how well you function at work after that conversation.

Don’t tell me you know how I feel because you lost your dog and he was like a son to you.

You have a daughter, of close age of my daughter. All I have to say to this is…bruh.

Don’t tell me, “of all people you should understand.”

No I don’t. Just because I have dealt with loss and trauma does not mean that I get it either. Or that I’m empathetic to everyone. Or that I have the patience for someone grieving for their loss, be it a grandmother or a goldfish. The world didn’t stop when I lost my daughter, so it may not stop for you either. I might be understanding, I might not. And both are okay.

Don’t tell me what to do or not to do.

“There are no shoulds, [in grief,]” -My husband. In “Much Ado About Nothing,” Shakespeare wrote “Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.”

How masterfully written. Those who are not in grief or even those who are, should not tell the grieving how to do their grief.