calm-hearted
REMEMBERING FORWARD
SUPPORTING GRIEVING PARENTS
Show up without trying to fix it.
When someone you love is grieving a pregnancy or baby loss, it is easy to become preoccupied with finding the right words. The people who helped me most did something simpler: they acknowledged my baby, offered practical care, let us choose when to talk, and kept including us after the initial rush of messages and check-ins had slowed.
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This page turns those lived lessons into a starting point for family, friends, neighbours, and chosen family who want to stay close without asking a grieving parent to explain everything they need.
A NOTE FROM NATHAN'S MOM
Do not try to make them feel better. Help them feel less alone.
What helped most was not an attempt to make the pain of our loss smaller, but a willingness to stay close to us within it.
That looked like letting us leave messages unanswered, coming into our home without expecting us to host, listening as we told our story again, bringing food or offering practical help, continuing to include us in ordinary life, and understanding if we weren't always up for joining.
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Someone else who is grieving may need something different. The safest place to begin is by following their lead, asking less of them, and continuing to show up.
Acknowledge what happened.
Start with something simple: “I am so sorry. I love you. I am here.” If they share their baby’s name with you, use it. Remember any symbols and important connections they mention.
Remove one decision.
Offer something specific: “I can leave dinner at your door at 5. No reply needed.” Helpful support reduces their effort and doesn't create another task.
Make room for their way of grieving.
They may want to tell their story, sit quietly, cancel plans, or not answer. Stay open without asking them to comfort you or make their grief easier to witness.
Keep including them.
Invite them without pressure and keep checking in after the first weeks and months. Laughing, leaving the house, or making plans does not mean their grief has ended.
Supporting someone who is grieving
These resources were created by Megan Devine, author of "It’s OK That You’re Not OK". Shared here by direct link to the original resource, with full credit and gratitude to Megan Devine and Refuge in Grief.
What's normal in grief?
Please note: Grief can look intense, unfamiliar, and deeply concerning without following a predictable timeline. This infographic can help supporters understand common grief responses. If you notice self-harm, thoughts of suicide, increased substance use, unsafe behaviour, or ongoing difficulty with basic daily needs, it may be time to involve a doctor, mental health professional, or crisis service. Supporting someone through grief does not mean carrying these concerns on your own.
Featured listen
20-MINUTE EXCERPT
Supporting Grieving Mothers
episode 132 | begin listening at 16:22
This part of the episode offers a direct reflection from a bereaved mother on what grieving mothers may need from the people around them. This excerpt will help supporters understand the value of listening, staying present, and resisting the urge to fix or add pressure to someone’s grief.
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Please note: The full podcast explores spiritual and mediumship-based ideas that may feel familiar to some listeners and less so to others. This episode shares perspective from a birth, postpartum, and bereavement doula who has lived experience of infant loss. It covers topics such as identity after loss, supporting grieving mothers, and pregnancy after loss.
Types of loss
There are different experiences of pregnancy and infant loss. Thoughtful support honours what happened without comparing it against someone else’s story.
Miscarriage & early pregnancy loss
Pregnancy loss before 20 weeks, including chemical, missed, early, or later miscarriage. The physical experience and grief can vary widely, and may be minimized because the loss happened early.
Ectopic pregnancy
A pregnancy that implants outside the uterus, most often in a fallopian tube, and cannot continue safely. It may require urgent medication or surgery and can bring both medical trauma and grief.
Termination for medical reasons
Ending a wanted pregnancy because of a serious fetal diagnosis or risk to the pregnant person’s health. TFMR may carry the added weight of an agonizing medical decision, stigma, and misunderstanding from others.
Stillbirth
The death of a baby before or during birth at 20 weeks or later in most of Canada. Families may also navigate labour or birth, postpartum recovery, memory-making, and sudden absence.
Neonatal or infant loss
Neonatal loss occurs within the first 28 days after birth, while infant loss can occur anytime during the first year. It may involve illness, NICU care, medical trauma, or sudden death.
Infertility and recurrent loss
Infertility, unsuccessful fertility treatment, and repeated pregnancy loss can create grief that builds over time. Without one recognized loss event, these experiences may remain unseen or misunderstood.
FINDING OUR WAY THROUGH, TOGETHER
From my village to yours
When I started writing about how our village showed up and what we needed in the early days of our loss, I realized how much friendship after loss depends on communication. As the grieving person, I didn't have a lot of capacity to guide what would come next after sharing that Nathan died. Knowing my friends were there and ready to follow my lead gave me the space to try.
Grief changed what I needed, what I could offer, and what felt difficult in our friendships. When I was able to share what I needed, my friends made space for conversation or quiet, reassured me they would keep showing up and remembering Nathan, and responded with care and kindness that reflected what I had told them.
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I've written reflections that share stories from my own village, including the care that helped, the moments that required vulnerability and boundaries, and the different ways my relationships shifted, faded, or deepened. There are common suggestions for supporting someone after loss like avoiding platitudes, being honest when you don't know what to say, and staying present beyond the early days. In sharing my experience, I hope to provide some perspective on what could help, but every friendship is different, and every grieving family may want something different too.
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I asked some of my friends if they would share what they realized while supporting us and what they would want other loved ones supporting someone after pregnancy or infant loss to know. In response, they generously shared the below thoughts in their own words.
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I hope all of this helps grieving families feel understood and gives friends and family a clearer sense of how to stay present, while easing some of the pressure on the person who is grieving.
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— Jessica Gutierrez Schwartz, Nathan's Mom and Founder of Calm-hearted
"I wanted Jess to know she never had to protect me from her grief or pretend she was okay."
Before everything Jess went through, I don't think I fully understood that pregnancy and infant loss isn't something you move on from - it's something you learn to carry. I learned that the most meaningful support isn't having the perfect thing to say, but simply continuing to show up, checking in long after everyone else has gone back to normal, and making space to say Nathan's name. I wanted Jess to know she never had to protect me from her grief or pretend she was okay. I've learned that presence, consistency, and remembering matter so much more than trying to make the pain better or to “solve” anything. Jess’ story reminded me that support often looks like staying beside someone and continuing to show up, even when you can’t take their pain away.
"While it’s wonderful to ask what someone needs, they may not always have the headspace to know or tell you, so it’s worth taking the initiative and doing a little research yourself about what might be comforting or practically useful."
One thing I’ve learned is that sometimes the most helpful thing you can do is take a little bit of the logistical weight off someone who is grieving. If you have the capacity and the kind of relationship where it feels appropriate, you can offer to be the point person with their wider circle of friends to help coordinate visits, care packages, meals, or simply relaying messages back and forth. In those early days especially, even responding to a text or explaining the same thing to multiple people can feel exhausting, and it can be a relief to have someone else help manage that. I also learned that while it’s wonderful to ask what someone needs, they may not always have the headspace to know or tell you, so it’s worth taking the initiative and doing a little research yourself about what might be comforting or practically useful (e.g. postpartum supplies, groceries, etc.). You don’t have to get everything exactly right; taking something off their plate and showing them that you’re thinking about what they might need can mean so much.
"In moments of extreme grief, when someone’s pain truly feels like your own, there is nothing you can do but fully feel it with them."
I think the biggest thing I’ve learned about grief from the loss of Nathan is this: I will sometimes say the wrong things, I will sometimes make the wrong gestures, I will sometimes let a silence stretch into all the wrong places, and that is because a situation like this is inherently wrong. But that doesn’t mean you should hide away from the grief, or the people at the forefront of the grief itself. In moments of extreme grief, when someone’s pain truly feels like your own, there is nothing you can do but fully feel it with them. If you find yourself lucky enough to be part of a village that invites you in during moments of pain, consider it a blessing. And when the time comes, do your very best to show up.
"There is no rulebook for grief and no single right way to support someone; the most important thing is to show up, listen, learn their grief language, and keep showing up, because grief has no timeline."
Before Nathan passed, I had never experienced this particular kind of loss, and I quickly learned that there is no way to prepare for the loss of a child or to fully understand what someone grieving such a loss is experiencing. I learned that everyone grieves differently, and that one of the most meaningful ways we can support someone is to make sure they feel seen, loved, and never alone. It was important to ensure that Jess and Jordan knew they had a village behind them. In my friendship with Jess, I wanted her to know that even on the darkest of days, I would always be a safe space for her. I learned that she found comfort in hearing from her village, whether it was something as simple as a heart emoji or a “thinking of you” text. At the same time, I understood that there were days when communicating or answering the same questions over and over again could feel overwhelming. I offered to become a liaison for our friend group, sharing updates and helping coordinate ways we could show up for her, which allowed me to take some of the mental load from her during an unimaginable time. Taking on that role gave me a sense of purpose and direction. There is no rulebook for grief and no single right way to support someone; the most important thing is to show up, listen, learn their grief language, and keep showing up, because grief has no timeline.
"Speaking vulnerably can help with both remembrance and the provision of support friend to friend, loved one to loved one."
There are many different kinds of loss. After Nathan's passing, Jess reached out to ask me how I navigated losing my father. I was nervous because I didn't want the sharing of my experiences to feel like I was comparing my loss to Jess' own, and this wasn't a topic we had discussed before despite being friends for many years. However, receiving and fulfilling this request helped me reflect on my loss experience, and gave me a means of connecting with Jess in a special, though difficult, way that to this day I am so grateful for. While losing a parent doesn't equate to losing a child, grief is a shared experience. Speaking vulnerably can help with both remembrance and the provision of support friend to friend, loved one to loved one.
"We haven't shied away from all the hard conversations, we've leaned in."
Above all, since Nathan’s passing, we’ve wanted Jess to know that she is seen and safe, even in her darkest moments; we haven’t shied away from the hard conversations, we’ve leaned in — making sure she knows that it’s okay to not be okay, that our support does not have an expiry, and that she can share, on her terms, what’s closest to her heart.
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Being a safe person to lean on doesn’t require the same life experience, perfect words, or an emotional toolbox filled with answers. At its core, it’s the willingness to continue reaching out your hand and letting them know you’re holding them close through what comes. That steady presence can become a safe harbour when your loved one needs it most.