“I didn’t take any more days off since it was my second miscarriage in just a matter of months.”

A bit of time had passed after her second child loss before I heard my friend explaining the situation. She worked for a company that honored families by providing generous support to new mothers and fathers, but they didn’t have anything official when it came to the loss of a baby in the womb. In a state of sorrow and mourning, she wasn’t sure what to do with the loss of her second child in the same year.

Her brain was racing with questions. Is it okay to take time off for multiple miscarriages? Would anyone in leadership question her dedication to the job she loved so much if she kept taking unexpected personal time? Did her co-workers even acknowledge the full weight of this impact on her life, or would she hear the hollow reassurance that “at least the pregnancy was only 10 weeks long”?

Like so many that suffer in silence, she returned to work the next day and did her best not to let anyone notice her sad disposition. Was it her boss's fault that she felt that way? Did her company have archaic policies that diminished the feeling of human dignity in the workplace? No and no. Her boss was an incredible supporter of her pregnancies, and, to the best of his ability, he always found ways to modify schedules and tasks to meet the demands of her pregnancies. And her company was noted by many as being a “great place for young families and working mothers.” So, where does the situation unravel?

Intentionality.

While the company and its leaders did a great job supporting families under normal circumstances, they never went the extra mile to define bereavement expectations and norms for losses through miscarriage and stillbirth. As I learned about this company’s situation, I started asking everyone I knew about their company’s approach to miscarriage loss, and the results dumbfounded me. With how often miscarriages occur, I couldn’t believe the heartbreaking stories from mothers, fathers, and company leaders surrounding this topic.

• “I had run out of PTO because I was in and out of the hospital during the pregnancy. Once we miscarried, I didn’t have any vacation days left to take.”
• “I hadn’t told my boss I was pregnant, so I didn’t feel it was okay to share that we had experienced a miscarriage.”
• “Without a death certificate, we can’t enact our official bereavement protocols.”

When you hear story after story, you start to realize that you (aka me) have also contributed to this normative approach to miscarriage. Because the loss is so painful, miscarriage is generally something we don’t talk about in our professional circles. When we do acknowledge it, many leaders do their best not to enter too deeply into the personal pain of others and find themselves reverting to the company handbook for direction.

This unfortunate reality rings true in most nonprofits, religious institutions, schools, and businesses of all sizes, including many where I have served. It is frustrating when I ask a church or a nonprofit about their approach to miscarriage bereavement, and I am told that “our approach is on par with everyone else’s.”

Wow. We have an “on par” approach with someone else’s terrible policy. This justification is a recipe for more silent suffering.

What, then, is the better path forward? I am not entirely sure, but I have seen some awesome examples of intentional support-building for tragedies like this. Consider the following:

• Mandatory minimum paid time-off for loss through miscarriage or stillbirth.
• Open discussions during onboarding and throughout each year about the company’s view of bereavement and the paramount importance of human dignity and support (the proactive nature of these discussions helps to diminish the stigma when tragedy strikes unexpectedly).
• Make business human. Stop focusing on short-term dollars and do what makes sense. The long-term payoff of caring for your team will far outweigh the short-term productivity results of a workforce that doesn’t feel valued and loved.
• Partner with a healing ministry like Red Bird to provide company-sponsored assistance to families in need. 

Do you know an organization that is leading the charge when it comes to supporting and honoring the entire family after the loss of a baby in pregnancy? We would love to hear more about those companies, leaders, and stories that can inspire others to do the same.