Tonight I am sitting on a panel for an event hosted by the Female Empowerment Network. We will be discussing whether women can have it all and stay sane, a hot topic for Mental Health Awareness Week. It seemed the perfect excuse to re-publish this letter, which originally appeared in Bristol Woman magazine…
Thank you for not judging me. But for listening, and nodding without telling me I was being silly. You never tried to fix me. You never tried to change me. You knew I was ill and you knew I’d get better. Even when I doubted I even wanted to.
Thank you for not abandoning me. For sticking by me even though I wasn’t very nice to be around, or easy to communicate with. For spending time with me when I couldn’t be alone. And for leaving me in peace when I needed the isolation.
Thank you for accommodating my paranoia without making me feel paranoid. You made the impossible seem possible and made me feel safe. You allowed me time to process decisions and events and protected me when I was unable to think clearly enough to do even the simplest of things.
Thank you for feeding me. And for making sure my children were fed when I was trapped on the sofa unable to move for fear of waking the baby. For the take away meals and cups of tea. For the juice and the dark chocolate.
Thank you for understanding why you couldn’t hold the baby. Or that you had to hold the baby when I couldn’t anymore. For getting why I cancelled plans and hid away. For still phoning even when I wouldn’t answer the phone or return your texts.
Thank you for calming me down when I couldn’t breathe. For never telling me I needed to pull myself together or that I was crazy. For staying strong when I was weak. For being patient.
Thank you for coming with me to the doctors and talking to them honestly about how I was behaving. For not showing your fear. For looking after me. For loving me.
Thank you for still being my friend, my mum, my husband, my family.
Thank you for giving me hope.
Love, me x
Yes homework should be banned. I have said it before and I’ll say it again – children need to be allowed to be children. The school day is jam packed enough with academic and educational lessons, and in my opinion that is where it needs to stay.
Homework is a complete and utter waste of time. It helps no one, least of all the children and I can say this with absolute confidence having been a primary school teacher and assessment leader who has monitored the impact of homework on children’s learning and their knowledge retention. Homework is often fought against by the children and then it creates tension, which leads to huge battles that only serve to make exhausted and tired children feel even worse about themselves and their learning.
Children are naturally inquisitive and motivated. They just are. But the pressure piled on by the government and schools with regards to their education stamp this out of them bit by bit, until they no longer want to learn and are no longer enthusiastic about school.
Home should be the place where children are allowed to relax, play, and be taught age appropriate skills that serve a purpose in their lives. Swimming, bike riding, cooking to name a few. They do not need to sit down at the dinner table and spend the precious few hours after school with their parents struggling with yet more work.
Homework takes away quality family time. There is no time to go to the park after school, or go swimming or bowling or do anything, because the school day does not stop at half past three anymore. And on top of that, many parents often feel inadequate because they don’t understand homework set and cannot help their children. How great is that, setting something that makes the entire family feel like a piece of crap.
I wish now, just like I have wished for the last few years, that people would realise that children are not work horses good for nothing but doing academic work until they leave school and then have to go out into the real world. They don’t deserve to have their childhood sucked away from them by people who truly believe that bringing a horse to water will make them drink. Throwing extra work down children’s mouths will not turn them all into geniuses. Ask a fish to climb a tree and it will fail, yet breathe underwater and it will excel. What about those children who are destined to be creative? Those who could be inspirational artists or award winning designers? What about those who will excel in the West End or inspire the next generation somehow? How does homework help them?
Being academic is not for everyone. And making parents force their children to consolidate the learning they have done at school is unfair. That is not a parents’ job. As parents yes, of course, we want to and can encourage and support our children through their time at school, but we do not need to become their second teacher. We are their parents. Their carers. The people responsible for helping them grow into independent and confident adults who are not afraid to chase their dreams.
When will this obsession with academia being the sole focus for all children end? When will education teach them skills they could not survive without at adults? Allow for individuality? Allow for creativity?
When will children be allowed to be just that…children? Without a fear of failure. Without pressure. Without stress.
Children are the most magical and wonderful human beings on this planet and they are the only things that can offer hope and inspire change. And change is what we desperately need because the current state of the world is one that is going to require resilience, empathy and compassion in bucket loads.
Take your child to the park. Show them the world if you can. Open their eyes.
And throw the damn homework in the bin.
Diet: a special course of food to which a person restricts themselves, either to lose weight or for medical reasons. “I’m going on a diet”
synonyms: dietary regime, dietary regimen, dietary programme, restricted diet, crash diet
I bet I can guess how the majority of your conversations are going this January.
Let me see….
Someone is doing dry January. Someone else has joined weightwatchers. Another friend has given up sugar and a different one is rebelling against it all and scoffing everyone’s left over Christmas chocolate.
Am I right?
And yes, all of these things are well and good, and being healthy should be encouraged, but I am becoming increasingly annoyed by the fact that most people are doing these things because they feel pressured to lose weight. Because they have been conditioned for years and years to believe that if they are not slim then they are not healthy or attractive or good enough. The diet industry and advertising work hard to make us monitor every morsel and scrap of food we put in our mouths and then feel guilty and like failures when we do not achieve ‘slim’ status.
And I for one have HAD ENOUGH.
For starters being slim does not equal being healthy. Many diets encourage you to rob your body of vital nutrients, which then, along with having a 95% failure rate anyway, damage your body even further, and make it highly likely that your metabolism will be permanently screwed and you’ll end up gaining weight in the long term.
And anyway, who decided skinny was the ultimate make of body in the first place?
When I meet with my girlfriends the majority of the conversations we have focus on our bodies, and our self-loathing of them. Someone is always trying to ‘be good.’ Someone else is also always complaining about how fat they feel. No one is ever happy.
But also no one ever seems to address their health, mental or physical, with the same level of importance. When we greet each other we say, ‘Oh you look well,’ or ‘have you lost weight?’ Never ‘Oh you look happy today!’ or ‘have you been inspirational lately?’ We always focus on what we look like on the outside and it is ALL wrong. And it is also an unhealthy way to behave as it perpetuates the belief that unless we are skinny we are not attractive, are lazy and greedy and not good enough.
But we are all good enough. Our bodies are the most magical and amazing things no matter what shape or size we are. OK, yes, being morbidly obese isn’t great and in that case a sensible plan of eating and exercise is without doubt what is needed, but most of the people I know who feel like a fat piece of crap are way below the average size of a woman. And yes, I know it’s also ‘all relative’ and about how that person feels about themselves personally, but again, I reiterate, who the hell decided skinny was the goal we should all strive for? When did curves become a bad thing? Who decided curves needed to be photoshopped out of existence in magazines and posters?
If you are doing dry January or are giving up refined sugar then I applaud you, but please do it for your health, and don’t for one minute think you’ll be happier if and when you are skinny. It doesn’t work like that. We’ve been conditioned to believe it does and that skinny = perfection, but I want to challenge that. Body image at the moment is messed up and we are raising a generation of girls who are becoming anxious about their weight as young as seven.
Stop focusing on weight and focus on health. On feeling energised. On enjoying life for it is often too painfully short.
You’re all blooming gorgeous – believe it!!!
This post also appeared on The Huffington Post – http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/../../jen-faulkner/since-when-did-skinny-equ_b_14101574.html
Overeaction: To react with unnecessary or inappropriate force, emotional display, or violence.
There was a gif on social media last week that had a man laughing with the words, ‘for every male reaction there is a female overreaction.’ And yes, yes unsurprisingly this angered me. It was a man rolling his eyes at all women and branding us drama queens and emotional wrecks who flip at the smallest of things. And maybe in some way I proved him right by feeling annoyed by it, but the main thing I thought was, has nothing changed? Are women still viewed as these highly strung and hugely emotive, sensitive little souls?
And then I went to Blogfest16 and was proved very wrong. Women are not meek, they are not mild and as Shappi Khorsandi said, they ‘are running the world.’ There were amazingly engaging panels filled with inspirational women talking about issues in a measured and thought provoking way. The panel sessions discussed female presence on line, looked at campaigns strong women have led and are leading and talked about finding your voice when others want to silence you. And yes, by ‘others’ the speakers often meant men, because in their experience it always was white men who were trying to silence them. White men who send threatening tweets and attempt to make these women disappear through fear, by sending vile tweets or leaving hideous comments often attacking the women and their children. Miranda Sawyer described them as drunk men in a pub who should be left well alone, and I agree.
But I also agree that not all men are like this, and that sadly the many who are ruin it for the good ones. But yesterday the good ones joined in. They criticised a phenomenal event for not acknowledging them. They were upset by the ‘man bashing,’ and whilst I concur that bringing men down is never a way to thrust women up, the attacks weren’t personal. They were in context, they were real. Damn right Jess Phillips MP should get cross when asked if her husband is going to ‘babysit’ their children. And hell yes Sara Khan should bash the men who threatened to gang rape her in every orifice.
Mumsnet’s tagline is ‘parenting for parents’ and I know, I KNOW that means everyone – for there are many different people who come under that umbrella – but the event was headlined by big female names and many of the sessions were clearly focussed on women and were obviously going to have a strong feminist vibe. And if you were a man and you attended those sessions then I am not sure what else you expected. And it makes me angry that in an environment that should have been a safe space for women to come together and support each other and scream loud and clear about inequality (many of us technically working for free now until 2017 thanks to the delightful gender pay gap) and for me that was tarnished by the men who felt they weren’t acknowledged or catered for.
The friend I went with is running a blog for her business. She is not a mummy blogger and she knew full well that in some of the sessions she would have to work hard to take what she was listening to and adapt it for her purpose. She expected it to be pro female and strongly feminist, trusted the strong line up, and wasn’t disappointed.
Why couldn’t the male attendees do the same? Of course Mumsnet are going to target the majority of the audience and they do not need the men there, or indeed at home in their own little filter bubble, criticising the event for not meeting their expectations.
Every day women are made to feel vulnerable and repressed and out of place in their lives or not good enough. Women have jobs purely because companies need to tick a box and employ a certain number of females. Mothers are made to feel inadequate for staying at home and raising children. They are over looked for jobs they could be awesome at if there’s a man interviewing next to them. If they judge critically they are seen as moaners, if they are unhappy they will be criticised for saying so.
Sara Khan rightly said that there is ‘nothing more dangerous than a female with an opinion,’ and last night on Twitter she was proved right after I attempted to point out the hypocrisy of a tweet only to then be called a hypocrite myself, with my point being completely twisted and misinterpreted. I was not belittling daddy bloggers. I was not turning everyday sexism around and being sexist. I was not saying men were not welcome at Blogfest. I was trying to point out how this is how women feel ALL the bloody time and get shot down for fighting against it. That isn’t hypocritical. That is the exact opposite. Why the hell we can’t have an event for women about women without having a man complaining about it and trying to turn it into something it isn’t destined to be is enraging. We do not need men taking over everything. I think women would like to keep certain things just for themselves. And damn right they should to.
Blogfest16 for me was diverse, thought provoking and inspiring and I think women are even more wonderful now than I did this time yesterday.
And that is what I am going to hold on to. And I know I am not overreacting when I say that women, we really can rule the world.
Change: an act or process through which something becomes different.
As a writer you’re always looking for a story. Something that fires you up and compels you to write.
And then, every now and again, something happens that makes you speechless and you sit down to a blank page and don’t know where to start.
That happened to me today, in the wake of Donald Trump becoming the President of the United States. The most powerful man alive. Voted in by the merest of margins.
I knew it was a perfect opportunity to blog. To say something profound, and have people go ‘hell yes, this!’ but then I thought…what is the point?
What the fuck is the actual point?
Both Great Britain and America are inhabited by a generation, or indeed several generations, of unhappy people. People who feel they are being failed by those previously elected to run their countries. People who feel they are owed something. Anything. And are prepared to divide their nation and incite hatred in order to do so.
And it sets a precedent. The UK voted for Brexit. The USA voted for Trump. But what next? Many other powerful countries have their elections next year and the insurgents of those countries are gaining confidence in the fact that they may very well be successful.
And all for what?
All for change. Unhappiness is a powerful emotion and one that can and has forced the world to become unrecognizable this year and potentially begun a huge historical momentum for change. People are so unhappy, so hideously full of hatred for their leaders and their lives, that they are putting their faith in dangerous men. Men who – according to the press and many recent reports – are racist, homophobic, misogynistic and vile. These men do not fill me with confidence. They do not make me believe they are going to change the world for the better. They are divisive and unpredictable.
Donald Trump may have had his own agenda and reasons for wanting to become President of the United States if America, but now has a lot to prove, not only to both his supporters and challengers, but to the rest of the world and I imagine everyone is sitting slightly more upright and on the edge of their seats than they were yesterday. They are nervously waiting to see what happens next. Wondering where we go from here.
And one thing I do think we need to look at during this turbulent time is the media and its role in perpetuating both dissatisfaction and fear amongst the many people who voted for these changes. Slowly drip feeding lies and propaganda and inciting hatred and feeding on fear. The fact that Brexit and Trump have won show how messed up this world is and that people honestly think that these outcomes were their only option.
The problem is deep rooted. People feel owed. We have become a world where hard work and respect have vanished and bullying and scaremongering are the norm.
And things do need to change.
And I can say with absolute certainty that Brexit and Trump are not the right catalysts for the sort of change that is needed.
But right now, I don’t know what is.
Having just joined in a #soulfulPR webinar about writing opinion pieces, I thought I’d republish this piece from my Bristol Woman column. Seeing as I’ve been learning about how to be like Marmite and all…
Recently many things have happened in the world, which make me doubt you contain any good at all. And that’s a great shame because your power has the ability to resolve conflicts and create a united world. If only people knew how to handle you.
You work best on the ignorant, on those that feel they are entitled to you because of your content, and that it can be adapted to prove the point they so strongly feel needs to be heard. Do you feel empowered by this? Or when someone turns you in to a belief so strong that it makes them end friendships, disown family members, or even kill?
You make people vulnerable because they often believe you without having all of the facts. And then, when people link you with politics or religion without evidence or having done any real, solid research, you become even more dangerous. But then you enjoy that. Gain strength by feeding people and making them seek out others who think the same, until they form an army of poorly informed, angry and disillusioned people.
These are people who accept the dark side of you because they have mothers, fathers or friends who think in the same way. Or worse…because they are so disillusioned and feeling misplaced that they feel comforted by holding onto you tight. They are enlightened; they have found people who think the same way. They are then led to believe that you are he only way forward, the truth, their destiny. Judgments are made. Groups of people are tarred with the same brush. They then feel they are entitled to you and must voice damaging words in order to reach out to other broken souls.
If only you came with a manual or instruction booklet. Then people would know how to use you correctly. They’d find the evidence and facts needed in order to form you properly. Some people believe everything they read or hear and then try and convince others to think the same.
You could hold so much power and have the ability to change the world for the better, if only people invested in you more and took you seriously.
No one is entitled to you. But then, that’s just my opinion, right?
Fear: an unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger, pain, or harm.
The first time I became aware of what it meant to be female I was eleven and in a swimming pool in Exeter. A group of older boys kept leering at me and making lewd comments and it took me a while to realise it was because of how I looked. That they were viewing me sexually. I remember clearly the utter feeling of fear I felt at that moment. And how I wanted the water to swallow my swimsuit clad, pre-pubescent body up.
And now I have a teenage daughter myself.
We talk, often, about consent. About being objectified and sexualised at such a young age. She naively believes, as many ‘invincible’ teens do, that if someone tried to attack her all she would have to do is kick them in the balls and scream. Even though I have told her again and again about how men are, more often than not, physically stronger, and how if someone wanted to rape her she could fight and fight, but ultimately they’d probably succeed.
The thought terrifies me. She knows to go around in packs. She knows to be home before it’s dark unless she is being picked up and to always, always let me now where she is and who she is with. But none of that matters of someone out there decides her body is theirs for the taking.
And then what? As the Ched Evans case horrifically highlights, even if justice is done, and then undone, her life is ruined forever. Her previous sexual choices may be thrown in her face as evidence. She might receive tweets saying she ‘deserves to be killed and abused’ for daring to speak up and speak out.
We teach girls all the time about how to stay safe. About how their actions may cause reactions. What they wear. What they drink. Where they go. Who they fuck.
But shouldn’t we be focussing on the men more? Yes, you heard that right. Who is leading by example and teaching men to respect women? To not be rapists? That no, or silence, means no?
The response on Twitter to the Ched Evans case highlighted the unbelievably vile opinions men have of women and of a young female who didn’t even shout rape, but merely said she couldn’t remember. Men who may have wives and daughters of their own. Or, God forbid, sons. The tweets were repulsive and frightening and made me feel like that eleven year old girl in the swimming pool all over again.
Yesterday’s ruling and response highlighted that nothing changes. Women are still frightened. And men, although not all, are very much still to be feared.
Politics: the activities associated with the governance of a country or area, especially the debate between parties having power.
I clearly remember the first time I voted. My dad drove me to the local town hall, informed me that I would be given a piece of paper and a pencil, and then told me exactly where I should mark my cross.
And I dutifully did as I was told. Because I knew nothing at all about politics. I knew who the Prime Minister was and I’d cheered/got angry based on the results of various general elections over the previous years as a teenager, but my responses were all based on the opinions of my parents. They didn’t shout about it, they didn’t beat me into submission and make me vote the same way they did it just happened, exactly as it happens now. Children are not educated about any aspect of politics, or how our country is run until it is too late and they are eighteen and in the voting booth following in the footsteps of their parents.
But is this right? Is teaching your children about politics a form of extremism? Indoctrination?
Politics around the world has over time become more and more messed up and dangerous – Brexit and Donald Trump are two very real and present examples – but if children were educated about politics then maybe, just maybe, when they were eighteen and given the power to vote for the first time they’d be able to make a more informed, independent decision, knowing the full impact of their actions. If they learnt the basics, without bias, of what each political party stood for, about the past governments and which policies have worked or been an unmitigating disaster, of learning about the country outside of their own immediate experiences, then would they not be in a better position to use their vote wisely? To be fully informed?
Yes, I know that many parents might unwittingly, or I don’t doubt on purpose, pass their own ideals down to their children and OF COURSE this is something that should never be encouraged. But I still don’t think that should mean we can’t educate children about politics at all for fear of this. Children should be free to know all the facts, form their own opinions, and draw their own conclusions. Otherwise isn’t their vote a wasted one anyway?
The current system doesn’t work. It’s not indoctrination, its ignorance. The future Prime Minister may very well be the little girl who was recently on the ITV news giving a passionate speech to Theresa May. Damn right she should know who the Prime Minister is. Hell yes she is right to be concerned about homeless people. She didn’t smack of a child fed some bullshit by her parents to me, she was simply a young girl who doesn’t understand why Theresa May can’t go around giving hot chocolate to homeless people with floppy ears. This child is clearly inquisitive and caring and wants to make a change. And I say that should be encouraged.
What do you think?
This all looks very exciting. I’m thrilled to be taking my boys to the Gromit making session. Sign up now, it’s free!
13th September 2016
Kids of all ages can have gripping Encounters with cinema in Bristol
The programme for the 2016 Encounters Short Film and Animation Festival features special screenings for children and teenagers plus hands-on workshops where you can make your own version of Aardman Animations’ favourite characters.
The festival, which runs from 20th to 25th September at the Watershed in Bristol, features special sessions of family-friendly films. Using a unique approach, organisers asked children to review a selection of films and pick their favourites to be shown at Encounters, so all the movies have been already approved by younger audiences.
On Saturday 24th from 9.30am an hour of films for those aged seven and over will be shown. These include First Snow, the story of a curious hedgehog trying to find his way home in winter, and Wolf, the tale of ballet-loving carnivore looking for somewhere to practice in the woods.
Later day, from 11am, teenagers aged 14 and over can enjoy a programme of films reviewed and selected by those of the same age. This collection includes Ollie Boy, the story of Paris resident Malick who skateboards all day and dreams of escaping to America.
As well as these carefully-selected short films and animations aimed at different age groups, younger festival-goers can get hands-on to construct their own version of an Aardman Animations’ favourite.
On Saturday September 24th at 3pm an Aardman expert will be on hand to help children, accompanied by an adult, make their own Shaun the Sheep to take home. This workshop is free but tickets must be booked in advance. There will also be a workshop for making another Aardman character – Gromit – at 1pm the same day.
The two workshops are part of the festival’s way of marking 40 years of Aardman’s incredible movie making. On Tuesday 20th September Aardman’s co-founders Peter Lord and David Sproxton will make a rare joint public appearance to look back at their films, which have thrilled cinema audiences for the past four decades.
Tickets for Encounters cost £4.50 for anyone under 24, with adult tickets costing £6, £5.50 concessions. For a full programme for Encounters, which features more than 40 live events and 100 films, see encounters-festival.org.uk
When a baby dies it is often a time when people do not know what to say, or how to help. And so they often say nothing due to a fear of saying the wrong thing.
This incredibly moving post is a story of how one woman, Charlotte, is feeling following the death of her baby during pregnancy. She has set up @heart_spill and hopes it can be a place where others can share stories and support each other, whilst raising awareness. It is a safe place where people can talk about pregnancy loss, and not ignore it. Talking is good. It is healing.
*Please if you are in anyway sensitive to this subject then be aware this may be very painful to read.
I am sorry for your loss.
Every time those 5 little words came through on my phone I wanted to scream, “what does that even mean?” Those 5 words irritated and bruised my soul. As time goes on, however, I realise that a loss is exactly what I have experienced. Don’t get me wrong, I did not lose my baby. No, my baby died.
But I have lost other things, things that someone who has never been in my position would not even imagine I have lost.
I feel like I look at what happened as if I was watching a distant family member or neighbor go through it, with a slight haze across my eyes and a “poor them, how awful’ expression on my face. Every now and again, however, I remember that it was me laid in that room, me that heard the sonographer say those words and me who ever so gently stroked my babies hand two days later, my baby that would not be coming home. It is me who will never quite be the same person again.
Pregnancy is supposed to be a happy period in your life, “you are glowing” people tell you, “do you have any names yet?” people ask. You get a buzz in your stomach with excitement speaking about it. Even before the secret is out, you sneak online to look at baby grows and make a note of which ones you will buy once you have had your 12-week scan.
This is the way it should be. This is not the way it will be for me if I decide to try again. I will never again think of a 12-week scan as a safe zone, my eyes have been opened to a side of pregnancy that is much less fun and exciting, a side that is instead anxiety fueled, and stressful. A side where I will wake up every morning and think, “why do I not feel sick today,” “should I have felt you move by now?” The idea of sitting in that waiting room again and being called into the room where my heart snapped is a thought that makes my bones ache. Pregnancy will never again be the same for me.
On 27th September I was due to meet my baby, but I have already done that and have already said goodbye.
I had hoped that by the time my due date arrived I would have some answers as to why this happened. I had hoped that having that information would enable me to make a decision as to what I wanted to do next. But hope is fleeting.
My baby was sent off to Oxford over 12 weeks ago for a Post Mortem, but I have yet to receive any results. How or why my baby died is still a mystery and all I can do is continue to wait. Wait to find out whether there is anything medically wrong with me or whether I will never know why, and it was something that “just happened” as the doctor explained to me can be the case. The amount of what if’s that run through my head on a daily basis is exhausting. I let them creep in for only a moment and then I shut them away somewhere dark, somewhere that I don’t like to look.
During one weekend a couple of weeks ago now, three people in my life had their babies. Three people who announced their pregnancies not long before myself and who I was looking forward to spending my maternity leave with. We discussed mother and baby exercise classes, what prams we were getting and what foods we could not stomach that day. Usually when you hear that someone close to you has had a baby you are full of happiness for them. I did not feel any happiness. Don’t get me wrong, I would never have wanted anything else for them, I would not wish what happened to me on anyone. But I cannot act like I am full of happiness. I did not cry tears of joy, I just cried. With each announcement I cried. Cried for my loss, cried that I would not be in the same position as them in 5 weeks, as I should have been.
The normal thing to do when someone you know has a baby is to pop out and buy a card and a gift and wait excitedly for them to ask you to pop around for a cuddle. Previous me would have been all over this. Current me cannot think of anything more painful. Current me is worried that I will crumble in front of them, that my “brave” veil will slip and I will be outed as the fraud that I am. A fraud who cries alone in the shower and in the car, a fraud who cannot help being green with jealousy that it worked for them and not for me. A fraud who punishes herself for these feelings on a daily basis, even though my therapist tells me that they are completely normal.
Now as you can imagine, people don’t want to talk about a baby dying, why would they? It is not a pleasant thing to talk about, it’s not The Bake Off… This natural human reaction however creates a distance. A distance that is forged from awkwardness.
The difficulty seems to lie in the fact that people don’t appear to know how to talk to me anymore. People no longer look at me how they used to, their voices seem to have changed, their heads tilt to the side whilst they are talking to me and there is sometimes an ‘am I going to break her?” look on their face. You are not going to break me, believe me, I am pretty tough. If my experience in that hospital didn’t break me, you saying the wrong thing to me definitely won’t.
The thing people need to remember is that people who have “lost” a baby do not want to talk about that solely. Sometimes I will want to and that is part of the healing, but most days I just want to talk to you, talk about normal things, things I would have talked about before this happened to me. Please let me.
“I am sorry for your loss.”
There is nothing wrong with that sentence. There is nothing wrong with saying that to someone like me, it shows that you are thinking of the person, it shows that you care, it is 100% better than saying nothing. Just please make sure that you think about what that person has truly lost before you say it.