I was sitting with the patient advocate, months after Adrian’s death. I was about to move out of that city, and I wanted to ensure the hospital received my feedback on both the good and the bad aspects of my care.
I was sitting with the patient advocate, and I could still barely breathe. The words were still impossible; I was thankful I had brought a physical letter I could hand to him. Sometimes paper is just easier.
I was sitting with the patient advocate, and I was surprised to see the tears in his eyes, and they weren’t entirely for me. It turns out he had also lost a child to stillbirth—30 years ago. And he still (always!) grieved.
And there is nothing wrong with that.
Because there is NO time limit on grief.
Notes for the Bereaved:
There is NO time limit on grief.
Take whatever time you need.