Men and Grief: How Fathers Survive Loss
Janel Atlas
BabyZone
October 10, 2006

Many family and friends forget husbands and fathers during times of grief. One mother shares her own experiences overcoming stillbirth and how she and her husband learned to cope—and find hope.

I distinctly remember one particular moment of February 9, 2006, the day my daughter, Beatrice Dianne Atlas, was stillborn at 36-weeks gestation. I recall sitting, holding my baby’s body. Propped up with pillows and wearing a hospital gown, I was unwillingly enthroned in the hospital bed. Friends and family had come from all distances to be with my husband and me during our loss. Tear-streaked faces surrounded me. Gently whispered prayers and condolences offered me some comfort.

Then I saw my husband, James, sitting in the hospital armchair, out beyond the edge of the circle. The visitors had, unintentionally, closed him off by forming a circle of love and sorrow around Beatrice and me. His face, at that moment, was closed and silent. He was an observer.

When I later asked my husband about that moment and what he felt, he recalled it clearly. “I felt distant from you when we were around other people because many people assume the loss is much greater for the woman,” says James. “I do feel like people looked to you when they were expressing their sympathies. Yes, I was included by others, but it was more periphery, so I sometimes felt like I was going through a different loss than you were.”

Why Men Are Often Left Alone to Grieve
The months of pregnancy revolve around the mother and the growing life inside her: prenatal appointments, baby showers, friends and family ask how she’s feeling. So it follows that, when the baby is stillborn, those close to the couple continue to shower the mother with attention and concern while not really knowing what to say to the father.

Unfortunately, this is true anytime a man experiences grief. Tom Ellis, a grief and family counselor at the Center for Grief, Loss, and Transition, in St. Paul, Minnesota, writes, “As a young man, I quickly learned how I was supposed to express myself and what was considered inappropriate behavior through such statements as, ‘Stand up and take it like a man;’ ‘It's your responsibility, you're the man of the house;’ and, ‘That's a man's job.’”

Our society still discourages men from emoting the way women are allowed to. Deborah L. Davis, author of Empty Cradle, Broken Heart, devotes an entire chapter of her book to fathers. In it, she writes, “A father’s expression of grief is affected by the interplay of a complex set of factors. Since early childhood, he has learned about expressing grief by what he’s been told, what he’s observed, and what’s expected of him [ . . . ] While women are allowed to be emotional, men are supposed to be in control, brave, rational, independent, and productive.”

Ellis agrees. He explains that men typically appear to be in control of life and are required to submit to the following societal demands:

• Remain emotionally and physically strong
• Always be rational
• Don’t cry or publicly mourn
• Don’t ask for support or affection
• Remain as non-expressive as possible
• Provide, not nurture
• Fix it, don’t accept it

But what happens when the unthinkable occurs—when a baby is stillborn? “In short, cultural pressures and shame discourage men from the very feelings and behaviors considered necessary for working through grief,” answers Davis.

Ways Men Avoid Grieving
There are various ways fathers can file away their pain and sorrow. They may become silent, cutting off all emotions and refusing to connect with others, or they may find sanctuary in action, staying busy.

Carlos Arias’ daughter, Grace, was stillborn in March 2005 at 36-weeks gestation. He says that soon after Grace was born, “I realized that I had to distract myself by going to work, and that immersing myself in my work helped me pass the time.” However, this didn’t turn into an unhealthy way of avoiding grief; Arias also made sure that he talked about his feelings. “Andrea and I knew that just sitting back and listening to one another was the most comforting action that we could take,” he says. “Just having the ability to talk openly about our feelings helped us to get through each day.”

While Arias found healthy ways to immerse himself in his job, other fathers turn to addictions to cope with their suppressed grief. The author of What to Do When the Police Leave: A Guide to the First Days of Traumatic Loss, Bill Jenkins, writes, “For both men and women trying to cope with tragedy, destructive behaviors may develop. Tobacco, alcohol, or other drug use may begin, or increase. Minor inconveniences may lead to violent outbursts. Tempers may flare out of control in frustration, driving those who are most needed for support further away.”

If you or your partner experience anger, addiction, or violence, it’s important to recognize that these are not healthy ways to cope with grief, and you should seek professional help. Talk to a healthcare professional, a therapist, or a member of the clergy.

What Men Feel
After Beatrice was born, my husband James was very quiet. “I think the strongest emotion that I felt was anger,” he shares. “Not at any particular person or decision, but anger at the world in general and at the medical community for not having ‘cured’ [the medical problem that killed Beatrice] already.”

It’s vital that others not judge a grieving person for feeling angry. “Men sometimes find their path to their grief through anger, the women through sadness. This is a gross generalization on my part, but on the whole I feel there is truth in it,” writes Dr. Tom Golden, LCSW, a psychotherapist in private practice. Dr. Golden specializes in healing from loss and trauma, and is the author of Swallowed by a Snake: The Gift of the Masculine Side of Healing. “The act of a man's consciously dealing with his anger during grief is many times instrumental in his path toward healing,” he explains.

In February 2003, John MacDonald said goodbye to his daughter, Hannah Noelle. She was stillborn at 41-weeks gestation. His wife, Pam, retreated into a state of quiet sorrow after Hannah was born, so MacDonald took over the role of provider and caregiver.

“I felt like I was stuck in a bad dream, but could not wake up. I had the need to be the strength for my wife and two other children. I really don’t think I stopped for weeks, keeping busy, trying to take care of things obsessively. I did the laundry, cleaning, cooking, and trying to get my wife back from her own shut-out world.”

In many ways, men experience similar emotions as women do after a loss. Arias asserts, “I can only describe the feelings I had as an emotional roller coaster. My heart was broken; I was filled with deep pain and despair. It was as though a part of me died the day Grace went to heaven.”

Arias claimed the emotions and faced his grief, realizing that the pain needed time. “The pain was intense and lasted for the better part of a year,” he says. “It came and went without warning… Driving to work in my car. In the middle of a meeting with the VP of our division. In the middle of a contract negotiation with one of our major suppliers,” says Arias.

It’s been more than three years since Hannah died, and her dad still thinks of her and cries. “A few times a week it hits me,” MacDonald shares.

Men and Tears
When James cried, it helped me to see that I wasn’t alone in my pain, and that I wasn’t weak because of my tears. I took comfort in the fact that my husband wasn’t bottling up his feelings or suppressing his loss, but was letting me see the vulnerable part of his heart.

Men who have been taught that crying is foolish might need to relearn how to permit themselves the tears. Davis recommends setting aside a chunk of private, uninterrupted time. Then, get out the things that are reminders of the baby who died (pictures, a baby blanket, ultrasound pictures, etc.). Allow the emotions and pain to wash over you, whatever they may be. Crying is scary because it represents a loss of control, and that’s intimidating. Some men fear that they might not be able to regain their composure. Davis assures, “No one has ever cried forever.”

Signs of Unfinished Grief
Davis offers a list of clues that hint at grief not being fully expressed:

• You may feel angry at life, sensitive to criticism, disinterested in your regular activities, or resentful of those around you who are happy.
• You might lack confidence.
• You may feel anxious, reserved, or lethargic.
• You may try to bury yourself in work, sports, drugs, hobbies, or religion.
• You might feed addictions to alcohol, drugs, sex, or food.

These are signs that grief is either being suppressed or doesn’t have a healthy outlet. Everyone can benefit from some form of therapy, whether it is one-on-one counseling, a support group for parents who have lost a baby, or time spent with a friend who’s a good listener. Other healthy ways to sort through your feelings include:

Journaling

• Gathering information about what went wrong for your baby
• Creating a memorial for your baby
• Making something physical (like an altar, small box, or other item) to commemorate your baby’s life
• Visiting the grave
• Reading books about bereavement and loss
• Painting or drawing some of your thoughts

Different Grief Processes
Most couples that have experienced the loss of a child agree that the two partners grieved differently. Often, women verbalize their feelings more freely, sometimes to the extent that it makes their husbands feel uncomfortable.

“I didn’t understand your need to share Beatrice's story with strangers,” James tells me. “I did not interfere, though, because I knew that we were grieving in different ways. I think it was easy to cope with things that you said or did because I could see that it was helping you

Similarly, Arias recognized his wife’s need to talk with him and others about Grace. “Andrea needed to express her loss by verbalizing it as much as possible. I also verbalized my loss, but not to the extent that Andrea needed to get through her grieving process,” Arias shares.

In the months after Bea’s birth, I frequently took out the box filled with her things, looked at her pictures, and watched the video of the baptism we had for her. At first, I struggled with the feeling that I wanted James to join me, to mourn collectively for our daughter’s death. But I quickly realized that I needed to do these things to grieve to meet my needs, not demand James’ participation if it wasn’t what he needed at that time.

John MacDonald felt inadequate when his wife Pam cried all the time. He understood why she was crying, but wanted to help. “I wanted to know how to make it better, but I couldn’t, and that frustrated me,” he reveals.

Surviving Loss Together
An added concern for individuals already coping with the devastating loss of a child is whether or not their relationship will survive. It is part of pop-psychology knowledge that the death of a child, no matter what age, puts a couple under stress and an increased risk of divorce or separation. So many painful emotions arise after a baby is stillborn. Blame is a common one, whether it is conscious or not. Another is anger that the other person isn’t grieving the way you do, or that you feel like he or she isn’t supporting you in your grief.

By far the most important tool for grieving couples is communication. In times of stress, communication often deteriorates. Misunderstandings are common, one or both partners may feel like shutting down and not talking, or each may fear burdening the other person with his or her pain. However, writes Davis, “Talking about the shared trauma does not add to the burden, it lessons the pain. By being available, listening, and sharing feelings, parents can enhance each other’s coping and strengthen their intimacy.”

Another way to build love and trust in the relationship is to be supportive of whatever ways your spouse is making meaning out of your baby’s death. Individuals grieve differently, and each person needs space and time to work through feelings. “You were very supportive of things that I wanted to do, like get a tattoo, or having balloons and cupcakes at the memorial service,” says my husband, James.

James and I discovered that communication and compromise were both vital for surviving our loss together. “I think the most important thing is to discuss exactly what you would like to do and then compromise on it. This includes things such as the memorial service, pictures, when to try [to conceive] again, how to accept help from others, and when to go back to work,” he suggests. “If one person makes the decisions alone, it will definitely cause strife.”

Arias attributes the positive relationship he has with his wife to similar commitments. “Andrea and I made a few promises to each other shortly after Grace went to heaven. First, we agreed to communicate with each other no matter how one of us was feeling. We made a pact to be open and honest with our feelings. Second, we also promised each other that we would look after one another to ensure that we made it through this difficult point in our lives together.” Arias says they also promised to rely on their faith in God, as well as be open and honest with family and friends.

MacDonald tells the truth about what lies ahead for those who are facing the sadness of a dead baby. “You are in for a very long ride. You will feel times of hopelessness, despair, and even think that you and your wife can no longer coexist,” he says. “It will get better, if you want it to, but not without a lot of work.”

In MacDonald’s experience, the most important thing is to set aside time for you as a couple and do what feels right, no matter what others may think. Make love. Talk about the baby.

“If you have the need to watch the ultrasound video instead of watching your favorite show, go ahead. Do you need to visit the cemetery every month on the anniversary date? Do it. Whatever gives you a sense of peace, do it. You need to survive, for yourselves, your family and your baby,” assures MacDonald.

Perhaps nothing is so helpful to remember when someone you love is going through a painful time of sadness as that each person, no matter his or her age, race, religion, or gender, must take a different path to healing.
 

Last Updated 10/10/2006     Design donated by Web-Writer