Sympathy vs Empathy: What Not to Say

"Oh, Sweetie.  You lost your baby?  I'm so sorry.  I lost my dog.  I know how you feel."

Really?  REALLY?  No, sorry, you don't know how I feel.  You feel sorry for me, and that's fine.  But comparing my baby to your dog?

Believe it or not, the above phrase is said more than you'd think.  The person speaking is well meaning, but they are blurring the line between sympathy and empathy.  That is a line that should never be blurred.

People sometimes get confused between sympathy and empathy, I believe.  Deffin.com does a good job of delineating between the two (here is the link complete with examples and times to use either  http://www.diffen.com/difference/Empathy_vs_Sympathy).

According to Deffin, sympathy is acknowledging another's emotional hardship and providing comfort and assurance.  Empathy is understanding another's hardship because you've been there yourself or can put yourself in their shoes.   The problem is that some people think that they can emphasize when they really can't.

Take the example above, for example.  What if the situation were reversed?  "I'm sorry you lost your dog, Sweetie.  I know how you feel.  I lost my baby once."  I think that once the words were out of your mouth, both the speaker and the listener would realize the ludicrous nature of the comfort.  How can you possibly compare the loss of a dog, beloved though it might be, to the loss of a child?  What possible connection  can you make?  A person who lost a child may empathize, yes, but would they voice their empathy in this way?  I doubt it.  Well, if you reverse this picture, think of the jolt that the person grieving their child would feel.  Not only has the person just lost someone who she had carried inside her body, not only has she lost a cherished member of the family, but now you have just compared her baby, her son or daughter, to a dog.  I understand that you were trying to empathize, but you can't.  It's not the same.  And I guarantee you that she won't be comforted. At best, she'll see the attempt and appreciate it.  At worst, it will enlarge her grief to include anger at you.

Here is a better way to say it.  "I'm so sorry you lost your baby, Sweetie.  It's so hard to lose someone you love."  The simple sentence may seem empty to you but it's not.  You have acknowledged her grief and affirmed her right to the grief she feels.  Words are going to be empty, really, no matter what you say.  This way, she knows you care and she knows you're thinking.

Let's try another one.  "I'm so sorry you lost your baby.  But remember, you can always get pregnant again."

At first glance, this one seems like a great example of the sympathy definition.  It provides comfort (sorry) and assurance (you can get pregnant again).  But what else does it do?  It brushes past the all-encompassing fact that this mother is full of grief in order to point to a future time when this "mistake" will be rectified and result in the successful birth of a baby.  But again, the response (usually unspoken) on the part of the grieving mother will be REALLY?? I can guarantee you that your words will be unwelcome.  The mother doesn't want to think about some future baby.  She wants--NEEDS--to grieve the baby that she has just lost.  And please realize--that baby does not have to have been stillborn or have lived for a few days.  A mother will grieve the loss of any baby.  As a funeral director once said, "I have conducted services over babies that were so small that the caskets that had nothing in them."  The parents needed to grieve.  The fact that the child was a miscarriage, not a full-term stillbirth, is irrelevant.  If parents need to grieve, they should be allowed that right.  And by the way, how do you know that the mother can get pregnant again?  Aren't you making some pretty big assumptions?  I can only imagine the hurt felt by a mother who has tried and tried to get pregnant and finally conceived, only to lose the baby.  Your well-meaning words are striking another blow, not relieving the pain.

So what can you do to help the mother?  Well, that's the problem.  Our society is a "fix-it" society.  We have come to believe that if we work at something hard enough, we surely will find a way to fix it.  But this will not be fixed.  This will have to be walked through, step after painful step.  Words will do nothing more than be a temporary support--one that might not last much longer than the fragmenting air that supports it.  But--words can be beautiful, if they mean something. For example, Saying that you're sorry is fine, but saying that you're praying--it means something, especially if you follow your words with actions.  It's great to say that you'll pray, but if you text in a few days just to say that you're thinking and praying for her--that shows that you care in a way that is concrete.  You are showing her that you mean what you say.  Why text?  Well, I'm going by my own experience.  I was not able to deal with words very well.  Texting or talking will depend on your relationship and also on the woman's makeup.  You also help her if she needs anything.  But don't say it that way.  Before you visit her, decide what you can do for her and then offer to do it.  Don't say, "If you don't feel like cooking, call me and I'll be happy to cook."  She won't call.  She's in pain.  Just make up a casserole or two.  Bring them over and tell her that you'd like to bring over a meal or two a week, if that's okay.  If she seems inviting, ask if she would like some company.  Otherwise, give her the meal, tell her you're praying, and leave.  You have to realize that sometimes the grief is too great to take alone, but sometimes the grief is too great to be shared.  Everyone differs.

I've said a lot about sympathy.  Next time--empathy.