Ms. B's Advice on Baby Talk

An actual, real-life submission!  Ms. B feels very official.


Dear Ms. B.,


I had a baby a month before my friend, whose child was stillborn 5 months ago.  I wish she would ask about my baby more, because I really want to talk about him, but I don't know how to appropriately broach this topic.  We used to be so close (talked daily) and now I feel like she doesn't care about my baby at all.  I'm about to just tell her I can't talk to her anymore because it's stressing me out to have to watch what I say about my son, but I'm wondering if that's the right approach.  Can you help?
Sincerely,
A New Mom


Dear New Mom,

Ms. B. recognizes the stress that comes along with being a new mother, and but she simply cannot agree with your assumption that your friend "doesn't care about [your] baby at all."  From what Ms. B can tell, you have no evidence of this whatsoever.  In fact, your letter suggests that your friend does ask about your son, just not as often or as extensively as you would like.

Ms. B would wager that this alone is sufficient indication that your friend cares deeply about both you and your son.  The problem is that every conversation about your baby is a brutal reminder of everything your friend has lost with the death of her baby:  the day-to-day experiences of parenting, the milestones of a baby growing up, the small victories and big celebrations, even the frustrations and sleepless nights.  Your friend feels isolated and set apart from all of that, and it was just five short months ago that all her hopes and dreams were suddenly and tragically thwarted.

While the collateral damage of close friendships in the wake of baby loss cannot be denied, it would behoove you to keep in mind that your friend has lost all the same things you've lost this year--the closeness of your friendship, the conversations about milestones and parenting strategies, the ease of talking to you every day.  On top of that, she has lost her child.

Five months may feel like a long time, but it's not.  Ms. B has been around long enough that she can assure you things will not be like this forever. Your friend must work through her grief at her own pace.  Five YEARS from now, it's quite likely that you'll be able to call up your friend and brain-dump about everything on your mind without thinking twice about upsetting her with the mention of your children.  But the question is whether you can be there for her in the meantime, so that when your friend's life is easier and she's back in the swing of things (and she will get there, eventually, in her own time), she will actually be interested in maintaining a friendship with you.

Ms. B wants to be very clear that as a new mom, you are undoubtedly facing challenges and struggles for which you need and deserve support.  You absolutely deserve a friend who can give you the support you need.  But your friend whose baby died?  Sweetie, she is NOT that friend.  She cannot reasonably be expected to provide support for you (or anyone) when she has been gutted by grief.  Moreover, the last thing she needs is for you to make her feel guilty about not being the kind of friend you wish she could be.  Ms. B hopes that your friend is seeking out other people who can support her in her grief (online, in support groups, etc.), and Ms. B hopes that you are seeking out people who can be the kind of friends that you need as well.

Even though she's not capable of being the kind of friend you need at this time in your life, it's NOT okay for you to check out and not the be kind of friend that she needs.  Why?  Because she is dealing with the greatest unfairness EVER:  the death of her baby.  You are dealing with the MINOR inconvenience of not being able to crow (or bitch) about your good fortune.

Good friendships are all about give-and-take, and in this instance, it's your turn to step up and give.  Although Ms. B. would never downplay the stress and anxiety that comes with being a new parent, she can assure you that your friend's emotional needs are far greater than your own.  Your friend is still struggling to get through each and every day without her child.  She desperately needs the emotional support of friends who will assure her that her baby won't be forgotten, friends who will remind her that her grief has not transformed her into someone unrecognizable, friends who will extend a modicum of human kindness and do everything in their power not to cause her further pain in an already impossibly difficult time.

As for a solution to your "stress" problem, Ms. B would like to kindly suggest that before you call your bereaved friend, you call someone else so that you can chatter for fifteen minutes about your son and how great (or difficult) things are.  Then, when that's out of your system, call your friend.  Ask her how she's doing.  Ask follow-up questions to truly express your concern.  Talk about work.  Talk about your husband.  Talk about your wardrobe.  Talk about your in-laws.  Talk about current events.  Talk about celebrity gossip (anything but Beyonce's pregnancy, please).  Talk about home improvement projects.  Talk about what to get your sister for Christmas (assuming your sister's not pregnant).  Talk about the finale of Project Runway.  Talk about work.  Talk about yoga or Zumba or Pilates.  Talk about a new recipe that you think she'd like.  Talk about the new haircut that you hate (or love).

Ms. B would also like to quietly observe that if you find it stressful and/or difficult to avoid discussing your son, it may be that you need to expand your horizons.  In fact, she wonders if perhaps you shouldn't be feeling stressed out as much as you should be feeling dull and boring.  For heaven's sake, read a book, read a blog, turn on NPR, subscribe to a (non-parenting) magazine, leave the house.  If you fill your life with interesting things, you'll have interesting things to talk about.  Ms. B believes that this will help your sweet little cherub be one conversation topic among many, and she also hopes you'll gain the perspective and the wherewithal to consider your friend's needs above your own.


Sincerely,
Ms. B.