If you don't have anything nice to say...

We were warned and prepared that people will say things that will be painful after Jack died. Things like "God needed another angel." Etc etc.

But honestly, I can ignore those cheesy cards or comments. I honestly don't remember them or who said what and there haven't been that many that struck a nerve.

The more painful thing is to hear nothing. To hear nothing from people we love, who prayed, who carried us when Jack was alive. But silence now. Silence feels like it never happened. Silence feels like they think we are the same people we were July 11th.

I don't want to ignore that it is hard to know what to say. I get it. I am sure I have said nothing when I should have at least said "I'm sorry. And I love you." But the kids discipline line "If you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all" does not apply here. There are no "nice" words when a life has ended far too early.

It is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month.

Obviously, we don't need reminders to think about our baby we lost. It is all so raw and real still. But knowing that others remember and care and still shed tears over our sweet boy makes a HUGE difference to our spirits.

Nancy Guthrie says in Holding on to Hope these words "..those who shed their tears with me show me we are not alone. It often feels like we are carrying this enormous load of sorrow, and when other shed their tears with me, it is as if they are taking a bucketful of sadness and carrying it for me."

Elizabeth Edwards said these words "If you know someone who has lost a child, and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died- you're not reminding them. They didn't forget they died. What you're reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great gift."

Let both of those quotes encourage you to be brave with those who have lost a baby. "Saying the wrong thing" is hard when it comes from a desire to share that you too remember and are sad.

Angel Baby Jack, by A. McClure

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