Tag Archives: disenfranchised grief

Gone but not missed: When grief is complex

By Bethany Bray January 27, 2021

The aphorism “do not speak ill of the dead” is attributed to the philosopher Chilon of Sparta. First written in Greek and later popularized in Latin, De mortuis nihil nisi bonum, the phrase perpetuates a social taboo against criticizing someone who has died.

Centuries after it was first uttered, clients in counseling may still hesitate to “speak ill” of someone in their life who has died. It’s natural, however, for human grief to involve a range of thoughts and feelings — not all of which will frame the deceased in a positive light. This is all the more true when the person who died had an abusive, rocky, strained, unsupportive, toxic or absent relationship with the client.

“Having conflicted feelings about the deceased happens more often than is discussed,” says Elizabeth Crunk, a licensed graduate professional counselor who specializes in helping clients with grief and loss at her private practice in Washington, D.C. “There’s a societal expectation that we don’t speak ill of the dead, and I think that sometimes can keep people even from seeking counseling.”

That hesitancy can be compounded when the client is worried about how a counselor might react to their situation. It isn’t uncommon for clients to assume that a practitioner will judge them negatively or expect them to forgive the deceased if they are struggling with mixed feelings about the person’s death, Crunk explains.

“It’s important [for counselors] to validate those coexisting feelings. It is possible to feel both sorrow and joy,” Crunk says. “Also, it’s important to validate [a client’s] feelings of numbness or not feeling sad. Assure them that they don’t necessarily need to conjure up sadness if that’s not genuinely what they feel.”

It’s complicated

The emotions that clients experience in response to the death of a person with whom they had an unhealthy relationship are certainly complicated. However, the term complicated grief is a specific psychological diagnosis (also called prolonged grief disorder) that involves lengthy, extended grief that often is accompanied by intense emotional pain and longing for the deceased, as well as maladaptive behaviors such as disbelief that the person actually died. (For more, see our 2014 article “The complicated mourner.”)

It is possible that clients who have lost someone for whom they have mixed feelings will experience complicated grief. However, Crunk says, the experience is perhaps more likely to fall under the definition of disenfranchised grief — a type of grief that is unsupported or unrecognized by society or culture.

Clients who don’t feel “sad” in the traditional sense about a death may believe that their experience is not socially acceptable. Such mixed feelings can be especially common when the death has a certain stigma attached to it, such as with deaths due to suicide or drug overdose, says Karin Murphy, a licensed professional counselor (LPC) who specializes in grief work at her Doylestown, Pennsylvania, private practice. Counselors who work in the addictions field or with clients whose loved ones battle addiction may hear clients disclose these types of feelings, she notes. Regardless of specialty, counselors may encounter clients using language that minimizes their loss (even when they feel the loss acutely) if they sense any stigma connected to the person’s death.

“It’s really important for counselors not to perpetuate that disenfranchisement. [A client’s grief] is supported, recognized and valid,” Murphy says.

The disenfranchised grief these clients experience “doesn’t allow room for them to express the range of what they’re feeling — especially relief,” adds Crunk, a member of the American Counseling Association and a courtesy assistant professor in the counseling department at George Washington University in Washington, D.C.

Such circumstances can spur conflict even within family networks, Crunk says. One or more family members may have had a good and loving relationship with the deceased, whereas other members of the family may not have. In these cases, family discussions about how, or whether, to memorialize and remember the deceased can be fraught with tension.

The death of a parent, spouse or other person who was abusive, neglectful or invalidating toward a client can result in a grief process that is difficult for others to understand or accept, says Mark Tichon, an LPC who is an associate professor and counseling program director at Lincoln Memorial University in Tennessee.

“The relief that can accompany the passing of an abuser is hard to discuss without seeming callous,” says Tichon, a member of ACA. “In these cases, strong contradictory feelings of longing for a [healthy] relationship and the burden of guilt at the sense of relief may result in a grieving process that is marginalized and not socially validated.”

Related emotions

Clients who seek counseling for a range of issues could be struggling with this type of unprocessed grief without being able to name it or disclose it themselves at intake. Counselor clinicians can listen and watch for a number of emotions that commonly dovetail with struggles over the loss of a person for whom the client had a complicated or unhealthy relationship.

In Murphy’s experience, shame, relief and guilt are most commonly expressed by these clients. Feeling a sense of relief that a person is gone often causes clients to question what that means about them.

“It’s feeling release, but [clients] have a very difficult time naming that. ‘What does that say about me if I’m relieved that this person has died?’ And with that relief comes shame,” Murphy says. Clients may struggle with, “What’s my part in this? What did I do to contribute to this sense of unfinished business? And the would haves, could haves, should haves that come from that.”

In addition, Crunk notes that these clients may express self-blame, anger, numbness or ambivalence over the loss. They may grapple with feeling unsettled or unresolved about certain aspects of their relationship with the deceased. They may feel grief centered not on the loss of the actual person but on the loss of a relationship that never was or of what might have been, Crunk adds.

Murphy urges counselors to remember that complicated feelings can also occur when clients experience nondeath losses, such as a change in someone who is no longer themselves because of dementia, addiction, chronic illness or other conditions. A conflicted relationship does not go away when the person begins to change because of illness, she points out. In fact, clients’ emotions may be exacerbated if they are pushed into a caregiving role.

“Understand that loss may not involve death. Life is really a series of losses, but a lot of times we don’t think about grieving, or giving ourselves permission to grieve, unless there’s been an actual death of a person,” says Murphy, who is certified in thanatology and has past experience as a hospice bereavement coordinator. “A lot of times, we have feelings about things, but we’re not really told or given space to understand that not only is it OK to feel that way, but we might expect to feel that way. That’s where the disconnect happens — feeling too much or too little. And that’s what brings [people] into counseling.”

In session, Crunk begins to explore the client’s feelings surrounding their loss with questions about the relationship the client had with the deceased. She asks the client to describe what life with the person was like. If there is any indication of conflicted feelings on the part of the client, she follows up with more gentle questioning.

“I ask them early on to talk about their relationship with the person [who died]. I try to open the door a little bit for them to share if there is some ambivalence. I don’t want to push that too hard but [simply] open the door. I want to assure them that they don’t have to speak positively all of the time,” Crunk says. “Even with deceased loved ones that we had a good relationship with, there are always aspects that we didn’t like, or things we didn’t agree with. I always try and leave room for that side of the coin.”

“Sometimes what comes up too is that we start our work and the client thinks that they had a pretty positive relationship [with the deceased], but as we begin to dig deeper into the story, other more complicated aspects arise,” adds Crunk, who co-authored a 2017 Journal of Counseling & Development article, “Complicated Grief: An Evolving Theoretical Landscape,” with Laurie A. Burke and E. H. Mike Robinson III.

This was the case with one of Crunk’s clients who grew up with a mother who was abusive. In counseling, the client needed help processing the death of her father. At first, the client identified her father as a protective figure, but as she worked through the loss in counseling, she began to voice feelings of disappointment that her father hadn’t done more to remove her from an abusive situation. At that point, Crunk recalls, their counseling work shifted to processing the client’s newly discovered feelings about her father.

Grief has many layers, but that is especially so for clients who have conflicted feelings, Tichon says. “One thing clients may need to do with a compassionate and humanistic counselor is grieve the loss of having an ideal parent, for which many clients hold hope as they grow older, or grieve the loss of hoped for reconciliation that will never come.”

Tichon once worked with a man who struggled acutely with the loss of what could have been. The client’s father, who had narcissistic personality traits, died “just as their relationship was starting to become more of an adult friendship where [the son] could exert healthy boundaries that allowed him to genuinely enjoy their time together,” Tichon says. The client’s father had died suddenly, so there was no chance to say goodbye or find closure.

“It took a long time for him to reconcile the conflicting emotions of sadness over the death of his father with the feeling of freedom from parental judgment and punitive emotions,” Tichon says. “One key goal of therapy was for this client to resolve feelings of guilt over the relief that his dad was no longer in his life. At the end of our time together, this client was able to say thoughtfully, ‘I still miss him, but I’m also relieved he’s out of my everyday life for good’ with a sense of peace.

“The tension between feelings of loss over what could have been a meaningful adult relationship, anger and resentment over emotional neglect during his childhood and adolescence, and guilt over feelings of relief that the relationship was finally over had resolved to … greater clarity and peace as he became more fully accepting of these intense and contradictory feelings.”

Unwrapping

Grief work should always be tailored to the specific needs of the client, but that becomes especially important with those who are navigating mixed emotions about the deceased. As a counselor who specializes in grief and loss, Crunk may have five clients who are experiencing the same type of loss — the death of a parent, for example. But as Crunk points out, each client will have different aspects of the loss that they struggle with and need to process.

To narrow the focus, Crunk encourages clients to identify what is “most troubling” to them about the loss. If the loss was traumatic or unexpected, that may be the aspect that is most troubling to them, she explains. But for other clients, it could be feelings of guilt or shame surrounding a person’s death.

One of Crunk’s clients was mourning the loss of her grandchild. The client had experienced a troubled upbringing herself, but as an adult, she had endeavored to create healthy and safe family dynamics for her own children and grandchildren. As their work in counseling progressed, it became clear that the client was grieving the loss of her identity as a loving grandparent as much as the death of her grandchild.

“I had assumed that losing her first grandchild was the worst of it. But when I asked her what was the most painful, she said, ‘I worked really hard to cultivate a healthy, stable life, and now I’ll never have that perfect life.’ She had lost that part of her narrative: She no longer had a ‘perfect’ life,” Crunk recalls. “It’s important [for counselors] to put personal assumptions aside. What you assume is the most troubling [aspect] may not be. Let the client dictate, and spend the most time on that.”

Helping clients give voice to the complicated feelings that accompany a loss is among the most important things that a counselor can do, says Tichon, who is scheduled to co-present a session, “Complicated Grief: Treatment Stories and Experiential Exercises,” at ACA’s Virtual Conference Experience in April. Tichon has past experience as a geriatric counselor and would sometimes hear clients express a range of feelings that they had held on to for years regarding a loss.

One client, a woman in her 80s, had lost her husband two decades prior but still harbored resentment because he had been emotionally punitive, controlling and physically abusive early in their marriage. In counseling, she needed to process both the loss of her husband and the pain he had caused her.

“She grew up in an era when people often did not discuss their marital problems outside of the home. At the beginning of addressing this topic in therapy, she had a lot of guilt and shame about ‘talking bad about him,’ as she had some religiosity about needing to honor her husband,” Tichon recalls.

As their counseling work progressed, the client grew in her ability to verbalize her feelings of hurt and sadness and, in turn, process the abuse her husband had perpetrated. Only then was she able to focus on some of the more positive feelings she had toward her husband, Tichon says. As a result, her depressive symptoms lessened, and her life narrative became much more positive.

“He had been dead for 20 years, but her unexpressed resentment had [been] pent up in her all those years. … She made a breakthrough in the process of grief when she was able to voice that although the physical abuse had ended when she was in her 30s, she held contempt and emotional distance [for her husband] through the end of the marriage. At 83 years old, she wound up owning her own part in a bad marriage, and in a faith-based, spiritual way, asked for forgiveness for not accepting his remorse and validating that, in some ways, he was a changed man [while] he was still alive,” Tichon says. “In short, grief needs to happen, and when we allow the depth of the process to work through in what is often long-term therapy, we deeply heal.”

Making meaning

Expressive therapies can be particularly useful in helping clients make meaning of losses that involve mixed feelings. Exercises such as writing a letter to the deceased can be especially helpful when clients feel that things were left unfinished or unhealed in the relationship. However, work should be client led, and interventions must be used only when appropriate.

“Writing a letter to the deceased person — highlighting the happy moments, the resentment, anger and sadness that the relationship caused, and unrealized dreams and hopes — and reading that letter using empty chair work can help integrate these emotions into the personality,” Tichon says. “I find that when using the empty chair technique, if I have the client mindfully visualize the person sitting there, down to remembering mannerisms and clothing of the object of their grief, it makes the experience particularly impactful. I would rule out this depth of visualization, however, if the deceased was particularly abusive. I would not engage the client in this level of visualization of the abuser, as the intervention is significantly deep. In cases like this, venting strong emotions and giving voice to unresolved anger and hurt is, in itself, very cathartic.”

Bernadette Joy Graham, an LPC who specializes in grief and loss at her Maumee, Ohio, private practice, uses a similar technique, prompting clients to use their imagination to create a space where they can visualize meeting the person who died and speak with them to find closure. This can be a real place, such as a room in their childhood home, or a setting that holds meaning for the client. Graham lost her mother when she was a teenager, and she uses this technique herself, imagining a front porch where she can sit down with, see and speak with her mother whenever she feels the need to.

Crunk also uses various correspondence exercises, including letter writing, journaling, the empty chair technique and other imagined dialogue techniques, with her clients. She says this work allows clients to say things they wish they had said while the person was still alive, apologize if they feel that is needed, work through complicated emotions and process unresolved conflict.

“The end goal is about revising their self-narrative and their narrative of the relationship with that person that brings a little more repair and helps things feel a little bit more integrated,” Crunk says. “I use a lot of attachment-informed meaning reconstruction techniques to help them create a coherent grief narrative.”

In sessions, she also looks for nonverbal cues that might indicate that a client needs to explore something further. If a client shows signs of agitation, for example, she’ll ask them to name what they’re feeling.

“If I see tears, I ask, ‘If these tears could talk to you, what would they be saying?’ If they say, ‘I feel a heaviness in my chest when I talk about this person,’ I might ask them to put a hand on their heart, and I might mirror that with my own hand,” Crunk says. “Then, I’ll ask them to describe that heaviness. Does it have a shape? Does it have an image? It’s all with an aim of them being able to tolerate that.”

Crunk is using telebehavioral health with her entire caseload during the coronavirus pandemic and acknowledges that picking up on nonverbal cues from clients can be more challenging. However, she believes that “it’s all the more important to show that I’m present, that I’m there with them, offering a place to cry or feel anger or relief, whatever it is.”

Some grief counseling techniques may need to be adjusted slightly when used with clients who did not have a good relationship with the deceased, Crunk notes. This is the case with empty chair, letter writing and other expressive techniques. The goal of these techniques is not to have clients reimagine their narratives regarding the person — for example, by pretending that the abuse never took place or that the person never lapsed into addictive behaviors. Rather, the goal is to help them reconstruct their narrative of their relationship with that person and, potentially, accommodate any new insights about the person who died or their relationship with that person into their current awareness or schemas. Sometimes, Crunk explains, when “conversing” with the person who died, the client stumbles upon a new insight about that person or their life that helps the client see their relationship with that person from a different perspective — one that can potentially help the client make more sense of their loss or bring them some calm.

These techniques are meant to offer clients a pathway “to revise the relationship in a way that they can carry it with them but that does not put pressure on the client to transform it into something that is unrealistic or fictional,” Crunk explains. “It helps the client imagine a world where there is an opportunity to receive an apology or hear words that they yearned to hear the person say.”

Clients sometimes express doubt about whether the deceased person loved them or struggle with things that went unsaid or undone while the person was alive, Murphy notes. She urges counselors to help clients find creative ways of expressing or completing what was “left undone.” For instance, counselors can leverage anything that a client enjoys as a hobby — writing poetry, painting, making collages — to help them communicate thoughts that are uncomfortable or to explore things that went unfinished between themselves and the deceased.

The simple act of writing down a thought, even if it gets tucked away in a desk drawer or journal, validates what the client is feeling and acknowledges that they are working through it, Murphy says. She sometimes recommends that clients read licensed mental health counselor Stephanie Jose’s book Progressing Through Grief: Guided Exercises to Understand Your Emotions and Recover From Loss, which features journal prompts throughout the text.

“Getting the thoughts and feelings out of your head and having a container for them is going to bring relief. It allows clients to process these feelings but also separate themselves from them and put them in a separate place than their mind,” Murphy says. “There is a common misconception: If I just give it enough time, I’m going to feel better. In reality, it’s time plus what you do that will help.”

In addition to encouraging expressive therapies, Murphy often suggests that clients seek out grief support groups so that they can connect with others going through similar experiences. Doing volunteer work can sometimes help clients address things that they feel they didn’t accomplish with the person who died, she adds. For example, they may not have been able to reconcile with an older relative before that person passed away, but they can forge connections with other older adults by volunteering at a nursing home or similar setting.

Similarly, counselors can help clients create new rituals to mark the passing of someone for whom they have mixed feelings. This can be done privately on their own, or with the practitioner in session. It can involve anything from making a donation to a cause that is important to the client or was important to the deceased, to eating at a restaurant that the client associates with good memories about the deceased.

Tichon agrees that expressive and creative therapies can be particularly helpful with clients who are “stuck” or need to process hurtful feelings regarding a loss. In one technique, Tichon has clients rip off a piece of paper for each emotion or painful memory that they express in session regarding the deceased.

“At the end of this exercise, the client is often in tears and staring at a shredded pile of paper, deeply in tune with the feelings of pain and brokenness. We then process how this piece of paper won’t look like what it did before we started, but we can use it to build something new. And in grief, things won’t be the same [either], but they can be good again,” Tichon says.

Tichon then directs clients to take their shreds of paper home and use them to create something that speaks to their hopes for the future. “This has been a particularly powerful experiential intervention, and clients have brought back art and murals that serve as metaphors for moving forward and building new meaning in life,” he says.

Leaning in

Counselors might find themselves experiencing the urge to comfort clients who are struggling with difficult emotions related to the death of someone who inflicted pain upon them, Crunk notes. While these clients need support, they also need to gradually work through the discomfort they feel regarding the loss.

“Grief, as painful as it is, it’s my belief that it needs to be felt. It can become complicated, but in general, for the vast majority of people, it’s not a disorder. [It’s] an emotion that needs to be felt and honored. I try and create a space for the person to emote and hold that grief [in a] container for them. I don’t want to press too hard, but I encourage them to lean in to it, to be able to expand their tolerance and sit with their grief,” Crunk says. “It’s a delicate balance because, as much as I want to provide comfort, if that’s all that I do, then nothing will change. … We want so badly to help [our clients] and provide support and comfort. It can feel counterintuitive in grief counseling, but sometimes the most helpful thing to do is to help them increase that capacity to feel their grief. As painful as it is, it’s a necessary part of healing.”

That delicate balance involves helping clients access and sit with their feelings of grief and find ways to take respite from their grief, pursue restoration or give themselves permission to feel positive emotions, Crunk adds.

Clients who are struggling with a painful, complicated loss sometimes ask how soon they will feel better or get through it. Making promises to these clients that everything will eventually be fine is not appropriate, Graham asserts. Although it is natural for counselors to want to “fix” these clients, practitioners must push back against that urge, she says.

“Be honest with the client and say, ‘This will never be easy, and you might never have [complete] closure,’” Graham advises. “I give them as much support as possible, but I never say, ‘It’s going to be OK.’ I say, ‘I don’t know how long this will take. Everyone’s different and everyone’s unique. There is commonality in grief, but no two experiences are the same.’”

Murphy acts as a gentle guide for clients as they lean in to their uncomfortable feelings related to grief. “I often tell clients, ‘We’re doing this in bite-size pieces … because it’s too big to do all at once.’ I hear this a lot from my clients: ‘It’s been three months, and no one wants to hear me talk about this [anymore]. Why aren’t I over it?’ A lot of [this] is realizing that grief has no timeline.”

Murphy says clients often need to give themselves the following permission: “I have every right to grieve this. It matters to me, and it’s going to take as long as it takes.”

Instilling self-compassion and focusing on self-talk can make an important difference for clients struggling with disenfranchised grief, she says. “Finding the self-compassion to sit with what you need to allows you to move past it,” Murphy says. “I often hear from clients, ‘If I let myself cry, I’m never going to stop.’ I [say to clients], ‘Let’s test that out. When was a time when you allowed yourself to feel something, and did that last forever?’ It’s a lesson that feelings come and go, but they’re not here to stay.”

Forgiveness and compassion

Clients who harbor feelings that go against cultural norms — such as feeling relief that a family member has died — need a safe space to voice those feelings. Tichon urges counselors to “wear their best Carl Rogers hat” when working with these clients and to remember the principle of unconditional positive regard.

“Allowing the client to experience the full range of conflicting emotions, and providing the depth of a supportive, nurturing and nonjudgmental environment — which the client often has not experienced — can allow deep healing to occur. … Clients may have feelings of longing and sadness, but also betrayal, anger and contempt. It is helpful to extend compassion and allow clients to explore and express the fullness of those conflicting emotions and grieve the loss of the ideal parent, spouse or significant attachment figure who they never had. [This can result] in validation of feelings [that are] contrary to cultural messages on grieving.”

Murphy also emphasizes the need for practitioner compassion with these clients. “Maybe they’ve never had anyone ask them how they’ve felt about the loss. That can go a long way, and it opens the door to get them to talk about it,” Murphy says. “Validation [of the client’s feelings] is the important first step.”

“A big concern [that clients voice] is ‘What’s wrong with me? Why am I feeling this, and why can’t I get over this?’ And the answer is because you’re human,” Murphy continues. “When we’re doing this type of work, the relationship — that therapeutic alliance — is the most important. We can talk about tools, but the most important thing is that the person is feeling heard and acknowledged. … What we [counselors] can bring is to be present during that pain and allow the space [to process it]. That’s what it’s all about: Just being validated is the most important thing, and then figuring out from there what tools are needed, because it’s so individualized.”

Graham says that “empathy goes a long way” with these clients and also stresses the need to keep the work client led. Prior to intake, she explains to clients that the assessment process will take the entire session and that she will be asking about subjects that may stir up difficult feelings. “Don’t assume that they know what assessment is and how it works,” Graham says. “They may not realize that they’re going to have to disclose past trauma, assault” or other painful issues.

A gentle approach on the part of the counselor can prevent clients’ anxiety from spiraling, Graham says, especially if they aren’t familiar with the therapy setting. This can mean the difference between a client returning to counseling or dropping out, she says. “I tell the client, ‘There will be a lot of serious questions that are going to take you back in time. If it gets too emotional, we can stop and take a break,’” says Graham, who previously worked at an inpatient rehabilitation center for clients with substance dependence. Graham also stays mindful during sessions and steers the conversation to lighter topics toward the end, while leaving time for questions from the client. If appropriate, she finishes with a joke to get the client laughing. “They are going to have to go home and function [after session],” Graham says, “[so] I try and close the wound back up a little.”

Another aspect of this work with which counselors must tread lightly is the issue of forgiving the deceased, Crunk says. This too must be client led. Forgiveness is sometimes an outcome of grief counseling, but it should never be imposed by a counselor, she stresses.

“I would never pressure a client or use that type of language unless they bring it up. If, through the work, they find more compassion or empathy toward the person, [that can be a positive outcome], but I just don’t feel that should come from me. It’s not a goal that I would impose on the work,” Crunk says. “There are ways that positive psychology can lead to growth and positive outcomes, but we also have to be careful how we use them. Clients can react, understandably, negatively if they feel their counselor is trying to get them to find beauty in their grief or goodness in their relationship. We have to be careful that it doesn’t feel forced [by] us.”

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Grief and doing your own work

Counselors are human, which means that they will experience personal losses throughout their career. Hearing clients talk about the different painful emotions related to the death of a loved one can be triggering for practitioners if they haven’t fully processed their own feelings regarding a loss in their life.

“It’s hard,” acknowledges Karin Murphy, a licensed professional counselor (LPC) with a practice in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. “Counselors have to do their own work [to process loss]. Oftentimes, counselors are not able to talk about it [a client’s grief or loss] because of their own history. It’s an important component of grief counseling: We have to do our own work so we’re able to let that come into the room.”

Ohio LPC Bernadette Joy Graham recently experienced the death of someone close to her, and she stepped away from her counseling practice for a brief time to mourn and process the loss.

“The counselor really has to have themselves rooted with all of their losses,” Graham says. “No matter how well-trained you are as a grief counselor, grief in your own life will be hard.”

As it relates to counselor grief, the 2014 ACA Code of Ethics cautions against practitioner impairment. Professional counselors are called to “monitor themselves for signs of impairment from their own physical, mental, or emotional problems and refrain from offering or providing professional services when impaired.” See more at counseling.org/knowledge-center/ethics, particularly standards C.2.g. and F.5.b.

 

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Action steps for more information

 

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Bethany Bray is a senior writer and social media coordinator for Counseling Today. Contact her at bbray@counseling.org.

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Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

Understanding stillbirth

By Samantha Rouse December 5, 2019

What if there was a trauma that affected 25% of our adult female clients? Wouldn’t we want to know about it? This isn’t just a hypothetical for counselors, yet chances are that we as clinicians are ill-prepared to effectively identify and treat our clients who fall into this population.

In the United States, 1 in 4 women experiences some form of infant or pregnancy loss. Included in this statistic are the more than 26,000 women who experience a stillbirth each year. A stillbirth occurs late term after an otherwise healthy baby could have survived outside of the womb. Stillbirth often is defined as the death of a baby after 26 weeks’ gestation.

Long before my decision to get my education and become a professional counselor, I became one of those 26,000 mothers. It was only natural that the area of stillbirth would become an area of interest for my own research during my doctoral studies. It was my experience in my job, however, that led me to see the gaping hole in our field of professionals who are competent and knowledgeable enough to provide help. Each time a new referral came in that had reported any kind of pregnancy loss, she was immediately referred to me. This was because most people hold one of two positions: 1) The person who has experienced what the client is experiencing is the best person to help the client, or 2) I cannot help someone with something that I have never experienced myself.

This flawed referral process creates an issue with our profession being able to provide quality care to clients who have experienced stillbirth. Referral of these clients solely to those counselors who have experienced stillbirth themselves can be harmful to both the client and the counselor. The counselor may become overwhelmed at the number of clients with this specific need so close to her own traumatic experience, potentially resulting in burnout for the clinician. An equally disturbing result of this referral process is that other counselors are denied the opportunity to treat and learn from this population. This keeps the number of competent counselors lower than is needed.

Understanding the trauma

The death of a child is an unexplainable pain. Author Jay Neugeboren famously wrote, “A wife who loses a husband is called a widow. A husband who loses a wife is called a widower. A child who loses his parents is called an orphan. There is no word for a parent who loses a child. That’s how awful the loss is.” It feels unnatural for parents to outlive their children, regardless of the child’s age when he or she dies. However, stillbirth presents unique characteristics that make this scenario even more complicated for bereaved parents.

The experience of stillbirth has a high level of ambiguity. The death of a baby leaves so much unknown, and mothers often find themselves wondering why their baby died, what their baby would have looked like had he or she grown up, what the child’s voice would have sounded like, and how their family would have been different had the child lived. This ambiguity often leads to the death having a lack of meaning, in that the mother is often searching for the purpose of the child’s life. Mothers might repeatedly ask themselves questions such as “Why me?” or “Why did God give me a baby just to have it die?”

Stillbirth does not involve only grief; it also involves a trauma or multiple traumas. Most people think that stillbirth occurs when the parents are told at delivery that their baby was born dead. This is not the case with modern medicine. Typically, the parents are alerted to the death of their baby before the delivery, and the mother then has her labor induced. The news of hearing that their baby is dead begins the first trauma.

The trauma continues during labor and delivery, which is now the antithesis of the joyful experience the mother had anticipated over the course of her pregnancy. Sorrow and silence replace what were once expected to be feelings of elation and the sounds of a new baby crying. After the painful experience of the labor and delivery, the mother is given the option of seeing her baby. Depending on how long it has been since the baby died, the appearance of the baby might be affected. Some mothers choose to see the baby and will hold, rock and take pictures of their child.

After delivery, the mother is moved into a room that is often located within the labor and delivery area. The trip from the delivery room to her recovery room exposes the mother to sights and sounds such as banners proclaiming “It’s a boy!” and other families’ loved ones cheerfully gathering in the hallways to see their own bundles of joy. The grieving mother’s room is empty and silent. Her door remains shut in an attempt to drown out the sound of crying newborns from other rooms.

After a couple of days of hospital care, the mother is sent home and must tend to her recovering body. In the days that follow, she will develop the same physical response to childbirth that a mother with a living child would. Mothers who have experienced stillbirth are often encouraged to bind their breasts to “dry up” their milk.

Within a day of delivery, the mother must make decisions about the autopsy and burial options for her baby. The mother must wrestle with the decision to keep the casket open or closed during the funeral or burial service. This decision is often based on the appearance of the infant at birth (because the skin of a baby who is stillborn is frequently affected). A tiny casket is often presented and seems out of place in the environment of the funeral home.

If the mother or father is employed, their time off goes by quickly before they must return to what is expected to be their “normal” life. In many cases, paid time off or bereavement leave is not provided to these parents because the stillborn child was never considered a living person. The parents do not receive a birth or death certificate for their child for the same reason. For a birth certificate to be given, the baby must have shown signs of life after delivery, even if it was only for one breath or heartbeat. In most states, a stillborn baby cannot be claimed as a dependent for tax purposes. (Tip: Some states offer a “stillbirth certificate”; this may be a resource for clients if appropriate for their treatment.)

Best practices for screening

In many practices, the intake process includes a generic demographic question for reporting family size. This might include a fill-in-the-blank option for the client’s number of children or number of living children. (Tip: Replace “number of children” with “number of pregnancies, number of live births, and number of living children.” This ensures that all areas — miscarriage, stillbirth or the later death of a child — are covered.)

Screening for stillbirth through the demographic paperwork is the first step. This initial paperwork offers a small glimpse into the client’s full story. Reviewing the paperwork prior to the initial clinical interview will alert the clinician to the need to discuss the client’s experience of stillbirth (if the client discloses it in the paperwork).

The clinical interview can be difficult for both the counselor and the client when it comes to discussing a stillbirth. Because of social expectations and the ambiguity of their loss, women are less likely to report a stillbirth than they are other experiences. It is much easier for a person to put a number on the intake paper regarding number of pregnancies and number of living children than it is to openly bring up a stillbirth during the clinical interview. For this reason, direct questioning on the part of the counselor is vital.

Counselors may initially find it uncomfortable to directly ask clients about any type of pregnancy loss. It is important for counselors to practice using the correct terminology and language appropriate for a stillbirth. Additionally, they should get comfortable with other terms that the mother might use, such as died, death, dead baby, dead child, etc. It may be beneficial for counselors to practice using these terms out loud with a trusted person to become more comfortable saying them. When counselors are comfortable discussing stillbirth and other pregnancy loss, clients are likely to recognize this and move to a higher level of openness about their own experiences sooner rather than later. This allows for the therapeutic relationship to develop at a faster pace, leading to more rapid treatment results and a higher client retention rate.

For many clients, the disclosure of a stillbirth might happen later on or might never happen, due in large part to societal views of stillbirth (e.g., they do not “count,” they never existed, mothers must “move on”). This will hamper the overall depth of the therapeutic relationship and can also prevent appropriate treatment of the trauma.

Need-to-know factors

As counselors, it is our responsibility to ensure that we are knowledgeable about the variety of issues that our clients face. With such a high prevalence of stillbirths, it is important that we truly understand this experience to provide competent treatment. There are several key points of which counselors need to be aware.

>>  Social supports: Not surprisingly, the presence of strong social supports has shown to be an important factor in a person’s recovery following a stillbirth. These supports can include a spouse or significant other, family members, friends, and involvement in a church or religious community. A person’s support system often diminishes following a stillbirth because of the “hushed” nature of the experience.

>>  Use of clients’ language: Mothers of stillborn babies will often give their babies a name. If the client uses the baby’s name in session, the counselor needs to refer to the stillborn child by name and not as “the baby.” The mother may be hesitant to speak the baby’s name, again due to the hushed nature of stillbirth. It can benefit the therapeutic relationship for the counselor to ask, “What would you like for me to call the baby?” This also avoids the question, “Did you name the baby?” which could imply that the mother should feel ashamed if she did not name the child.

>>  Suicidality: Mothers who have experienced a stillbirth often report feeling like “I want to go to sleep and not wake up” or “I don’t want to live anymore.” It is important to understand the difference between these thoughts and active suicidal ideation. This is especially important because these mothers often experience postpartum depression along with the grief and trauma from the stillbirth.

>>  Postpartum depression: Mothers who deliver stillborn babies are not exempt from postpartum depression. This can lead to the complex issue of depression tied with grief, trauma and, sometimes, psychosis. Many people, including clinicians, make the mistake of assuming that these mothers are dealing with “only” grief, “only” postpartum depression, etc.

>>  Trauma: Stillbirth is often thought of as producing grief or depression. Approaching it only from this lens, rather than also understanding the trauma associated with the experience, can cause treatment to be ineffective. This limited approach can also prevent the client from feeling fully understood, leading to a poor therapeutic relationship.

>> Comfort terms: The experience of stillbirth is often silenced and met with a “move on” expectation in society. In part for that reason, it is important for counselors to recognize and avoid using common comfort terms. These include:

  “At least you know you can get pregnant.”

  “This was part of a plan.”

  “Thank goodness you have your other children.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be.”

  “There might have been something wrong with it.”

>>  Long-term presence: The mother’s close relationships may become strained or even dissolve in the aftermath of the stillbirth experience. Divorce rates have also been found to be influenced by the experience of stillbirth. If not dealt with, the trauma associated with stillbirth can manifest as a personality disorder or a substance use disorder.

Treatment considerations

The complex nature of the stillbirth experience often leaves counselors feeling lost regarding the potential direction for treatment. Many interventions used in treating grief are applicable with these clients, and other interventions typically used to treat depression and anxiety can also be used.

For example, let’s say that a counselor has a new client beginning services six months after her first child was stillborn. She was referred by her primary care doctor when she made an appointment with the doctor to obtain medication. She is married with no living children, comes from a large family, and attends a nondenominational church regularly. The client reports that she had to quit her job because she was unable to focus and would cry throughout the day. The client discloses that she had a stillborn daughter named Sarah. A funeral and burial were held, but the client says she is unable to “move on.”

The client’s faith and large family can serve as protective factors because they provide her with a large support system. At the same time, they can also be risk factors by triggering the client and reminding her of her loss. One option is to explore with the client whether she has any frustrations with her support system or any negative beliefs and thoughts about herself when around her support system. The client might reply that she wants to avoid being around babies and small children at family gatherings and church services. The counselor shouldn’t then turn the focus to helping the client find ways to cope with being around babies and children because this might send a message of “get over it” to the client. Instead, the counselor could explore the client’s feelings of unjustness and hurt, both providing validation and normalizing how she feels. The counselor would then allow the client to decide on the small steps she wants to take.

A significant amount of ambiguity accompanies the experience of stillbirth. Some clients are comforted by finding meaning in their loss, while others are not. The counselor can explore this with the client and should be aware that the client’s feelings may change back and forth as time passes. If the client cannot attribute any meaning to her loss or does not find comfort in the meaning, the counselor should validate her feelings of unfairness, hurt and anger and empower her to create her own meaning. For example, how can the client use this meaningless loss for good in the future?

It is often helpful to encourage the use of rituals with clients. This particular client named her baby and also had a funeral and burial for her. The counselor could explore ways the client might use other rituals as a means of keeping her daughter a part of her life. For example, she could hang pictures of her daughter in her home, keep a photo of her daughter in her car, visit the cemetery regularly, have an object such as a candle or decoration that represents the daughter during holidays, and so on.

The counselor could also introduce the client to online resources and supports. This may provide a sense of normalization to the client and counteract her feelings of being isolated in her pain. It may also provide a network that can offer creative ideas for rituals.

There are many ways to approach counseling with these clients, but there are also things to avoid. For instance, counselors should avoid bringing in their own beliefs and expectations for these clients (just as with any clients). These mothers should not feel rushed or be made to feel guilty for not getting “better” sooner. Counselors should avoid using the common comfort terms listed earlier. Counselors must also keep in mind that the therapeutic relationship is more important than any particular technique, and they should allow these clients to be actively engaged in deciding what their sessions are like.

Every mother’s experience of stillbirth is different. The mother’s family, religious beliefs and culture all influence her response to the stillbirth. Additionally, her experience is influenced by the protocol of the medical facilities where she delivered and the attitudes of the health care providers involved. Counselors should address all of these factors in session to ensure that mothers are being treated appropriately for their individual experiences. Our society tends to “hush” these mothers and their experiences because stillbirth is so uncomfortable to address. However, these mothers need to be heard, understood and validated as being mothers, even if they have no other living children. After all, born still is still born.

 

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Samantha Rouse is a licensed professional clinical counselor working for Hosparus Health in central Kentucky. She is a fourth-year doctoral student at Lindsey Wilson College doing research on motherhood and stillbirth. Contact her at samantha.rouse@lindsey.edu.

 

Letters to the editor:  ct@counseling.org

Counseling Today reviews unsolicited articles written by American Counseling Association members. To access writing guidelines and tips for having an article accepted for publication, go to ct.counseling.org/feedback.

 

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Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

 

The invisibility of infertility grief

By Tristan D. McBain September 30, 2019

In my work as an outpatient mental health counselor, I have encountered numerous clients over the years with stories about reproductive loss. Not only were these stories fraught with sadness and grief, but some of the individuals were still experiencing acute grief even several years later.

As I branched out into my role as a researcher during my doctoral study, these stories stayed with me. So, I began a line of inquiry on reproductive loss that started with infertility and the accompanying grief. Since then, my research on infertility and miscarriage grief has resulted in numerous professional conference presentations and guest lectures. The purpose of this article is to share information that I have learned about those with infertility and to provide methods for best practice in counseling with these clients.

Infertility is generally defined as a condition of the reproductive system that inhibits or prevents conception after at least one year of unprotected sexual intercourse. To account for the natural decline of fertility with age, the time frame is reduced to six months for women 35 and older. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), about 12% of women between the ages of 15 and 44 have “difficulty getting pregnant or carrying a pregnancy to term.” Infertility can affect both men and women, despite a common misconception that infertility is a woman’s condition. Infertility in men may be caused by testicular or ejaculatory dysfunction, hormonal disorders, or genetic disorders. In women, infertility may be caused by disrupted functioning of the ovaries (such as with polycystic ovary syndrome, a condition that prevents consistent ovulation), blocked fallopian tubes, or any uterine abnormalities (such as the presence of fibroids).

Infertility can be categorized into one of two subtypes. Primary infertility refers to when a woman has never birthed a child and thus has no biological children. Secondary infertility refers to when a woman experiences the inability to birth a child following the birth of at least one other child. Both forms of infertility produce a cyclical pattern of strong emotion that is often referred to as a “roller coaster.”

Medical interventions

A number of available interventions may be used to increase the chances of becoming pregnant. The best course of treatment will be different for each couple and may depend on considerations such as whether the infertility is male factor or female factor, the cost and availability of insurance coverage, and cultural customs or beliefs. Some couples decide that pursuing any kind of medical treatment is not the right course of action for them. For others, medical treatment may include any of the following interventions.

  • Medication may be prescribed to stimulate ovulation or follicle growth in the ovaries, increase the number of mature eggs produced by the ovaries, prevent premature ovulation, or prepare the uterus for an embryo transfer.
  • Surgery may be necessary, perhaps to clear out blocked fallopian tubes or to remove uterine fibroids.
  • Intrauterine insemination (IUI), also known as artificial insemination, is a procedure in which sperm are inserted directly into the woman’s uterus. The woman may or may not be taking medications to stimulate ovulation before the procedure.
  • Assisted reproductive technology (ART) refers to fertility treatments in which eggs and embryos are handled outside of the body. This excludes procedures in which only sperm are handled (e.g., IUI). The most common and effective ART procedure is in vitro fertilization (IVF).

Undergoing IVF treatment requires a strong physical, emotional and financial commitment. Generally, medications are prescribed to stimulate egg production and may include a series of self-administered injections. Eggs are removed from the ovary using a hollow needle, and the male partner is asked to produce a sperm sample (or a sperm donor may be used). The eggs and sperm are combined in a laboratory, and once fertilization has been confirmed, the fertilized eggs are considered embryos. About three to five days after fertilization, the embryos are placed into the woman’s uterus via a catheter in hopes of implantation. The CDC reports that women under the age of 35 have a 31% chance of conceiving and birthing a child with the use of ART; the chances are closer to 3% for women ages 43 and over.

The IVF process can be a highly emotional time for the woman and the couple, marked by moments of excitement, hope, disappointment or uncertainty. The IVF cycle may be canceled if certain problems develop along the way, such as having too few or no eggs to retrieve, the eggs failing to fertilize, or the embryos not developing normally. Any of these situations may produce a sense of loss for the woman or the couple. After the embryo transfer, it is generally recommended to wait 10-14 days before testing for pregnancy. In some circumstances, a chemical pregnancy takes place. This is when implantation happens that results in an initial positive result, but then the pregnancy does not progress. In other words, a very early miscarriage occurs.

This section on medical interventions is important to include because these interventions are part of the infertility experience and may affect the emotional or mental health of the client. This is true even for women and couples who choose to not pursue treatment; at the end of the day, a decision was made and they must cope with the implications of that choice. Professional clinical counselors who are knowledgeable about the available medical interventions will have better context for recognizing the myriad decisions that these clients face and the potential losses that may occur throughout the process.

The invisibility factor

Take a moment to think about the grief that occurred for you after the death of a loved one. The relationship you had with your loved one was probably clearly defined, and you have memories of that person to look back on. The loss is easily identified and articulated, not only by you but by others who were aware of the death. You most likely had many people express sympathy and give you their condolences, perhaps verbally or by sending flowers. You may have taken time off work for bereavement and attended a ritual such as a visitation ceremony, wake or funeral that helped to facilitate your grief. Your loss was likely recognized, acknowledged, validated and supported in a multitude of ways.

Now think about the losses associated with infertility. One of the major losses is that of the imagined or expected family. Women with primary infertility, who do not have biological children, face the loss of the entire life stage of parenting. This may include pregnancy, passing on family or holiday traditions, and passing on the genetic legacy or surname, plus the eventual loss of other life stages such as grandparenthood. Counselors should recognize that meaning is often attached to these losses which further compounds the pain. For example, not being able to experience pregnancy means that the woman is also excluded from cultural pregnancy milestones such as going to the first ultrasound visit, thinking of fun and exciting ways to announce the news to family and friends, participating in a baby shower, and throwing a gender reveal party. With infertility, the loss comes from an absence of something that has never been rather than the absence of something that used to be.

The stigmatization surrounding infertility contributes to an atmosphere of silence and invisibility. Infertility and its accompanying losses are not as outwardly visible and may not be well known or understood by others unless the woman discloses them herself. Many women who experience infertility feel a sense of failure or self-blame toward their bodies, and some may withdraw socially, isolate, or struggle with their identity and sense of self. The stigma surrounding infertility can make it difficult for women to reach out for support. As a result, they find themselves navigating the experience alone.

When a woman does talk openly about her infertility, other people may not respond in ways that are validating or compassionate, which may make the situation worse than if she hadn’t disclosed at all. For example, comments such as, “Just relax,” and, “Give it time,” minimize the woman’s pain and invalidate her grief. Asking, “Have you tried (fill in the blank)?” or “Have you considered adoption?” implies that the woman is not trying hard enough to find a solution or that what she has tried already is inadequate. Most of the women with infertility I have encountered over the years acknowledge that people generally mean well and offer such comments in an attempt to provide hope or to decrease their own feelings of discomfort when talking about infertility.

Facilitating the grieving process

Professional counselors have a responsibility to provide compassionate and competent mental health treatment. Each infertility journey is unique, and counseling interventions should be tailored to fit the individual needs of every client. Taking clients’ cultural, religious or spiritual backgrounds into consideration, several interventions may be used to effectively assist these clients through their grief.

  • Counselors, first and foremost, can be present and listen. Typically, this is what is missing when family members, friends, co-workers, doctors or strangers offer comments that end up being hurtful or invalidating to the person or couple experiencing infertility. We do not have to have the answers — even as counselors. Just be there.
  • Counselors can assist clients in articulating what they need from others around them. This may also incorporate methods for helping clients increase their assertiveness or self-confidence.
  • Counselors can help clients redefine their life expectations and conceptualizations of womanhood, family and mothering. This may also include processing how clients perceive lost embryos, chemical pregnancies or miscarriages to fit within the family unit.
  • Counselors can help clients manage the roller coaster of emotions and ongoing stress as they are trying to conceive, rather than focusing on finding closure. Closure usually implies resolution, which may not be possible with the prolonged nature of infertility and the treatment process.
  • Counselors can assist clients in developing their own rituals while trying to conceive, undergoing fertility treatment, or after making the decision to stop treatment. For example, a woman once told me that she threw a party after she and her husband decided to stop IVF treatments. The party signified taking control over their decision to remain child-free and served as a celebration of the effort it had taken to come that far. 
  • Counselors can explore appropriate methods of client self-care, including engaging in hobbies, participating in creative or social activities, and even taking breaks (as needed) from trying to conceive or pursuing medical treatment.
  • Counselors can connect clients with appropriate resources. It may be necessary to provide clients referrals to group counseling if they wish to connect with others who have similar stories, or to couples counseling if they are struggling in their relationships. In addition, location or cost can be barriers to clients obtaining the services that would work best for them, so counselors who are knowledgeable about online resources can provide these options. Collaborating with other health care professionals with whom the client is working can also provide more comprehensive treatment.

This is not, of course, an exhaustive list. Grief is a personal experience. Which methods are the best fit for your client should be explored in a therapeutic setting that considers both individual and cultural contexts.

What do counselors need to remember?

Imagine that you are working in a private practice when you meet a new client experiencing infertility. You are a master’s-level clinician and are fully licensed in your state. You have taken one class in your graduate program on grief and loss but have no further specialization or experience with infertility. The client has heard numerous comments, questions and suggestions throughout the years regarding her infertility. She is unsure of how counseling might help, but she feels the need to seek support.

This scenario, while general, is a realistic picture of a possible situation that any clinician could experience. As such, I will provide thoughts on what every counselor should keep in mind when it comes to the areas of infertility grief. I am not attempting to reinvent the wheel when it comes to essential counseling tools; rather, I am striving to provide context for effectively using these tools with clients affected by infertility.

>> Convey empathy and understanding. If I could share only one thing I have learned in my work with women affected by infertility, it would be that so many of them feel and believe that you cannot possibly understand what infertility is truly like unless you have been through it yourself. Many women have asserted to me that they just need someone willing to sit with them through the anguish. Counselors who are attempting to provide encouragement and hope may instead end up inadvertently dismissing their clients’ pain or minimizing their grief. It is also possible that counselors end up avoiding a deeper exploration of the experience completely because they do not know what to say. Do not underestimate your basic counseling skills when working with these clients. Acknowledge, reflect and empathize.

One way that counselors can suggest understanding is through the careful use of language. For instance, matching the client’s chosen language of “baby” or “child” is more appropriate (and accepting) than using the more medically correct terms of “embryo” or “fetus.” Language can also offer a reframe from a label of “an infertile woman” to “a woman affected by infertility.” This choice of words depersonalizes the condition and acknowledges that her identity is separate from the condition.

>> Become familiar with client issues related to infertility. Clients who talk about their infertility journey will use a variety of terms and acronyms. For example, you may have clients talk about the time they were “TTC,” which stands for trying to conceive. They may also mention medications, medical procedures or basic biological functions with the assumption that the counselor is generally informed on these topics. Although asking clarifying questions of clients can help paint a clearer picture of their experience, it is not the client’s job to educate the counselor. Take the initiative early in the working relationship with a new client to learn about infertility in areas in which you are deficient. That way, you will be able to understand the client’s journey and experience in greater context.

>> Validate the loss. The invisibility of infertility may cause some women to wonder whether their losses are real or valid. For example, I met a woman during my research who had elected to try IVF after three years of actively trying to conceive, and she gave birth to a healthy baby after just one round. Still, she felt a sense of loss over the fact that her memories of the conception did not entail a moment of passion and love, but rather recollections of shame and fear. She referred to her husband having to masturbate in isolation to provide the needed sperm sample and her experience of lying on a cold table waiting for the doctor to transfer the embryo. She did not feel that she could verbalize this sense of loss to others, however, because it might make her sound ungrateful. A counselor could validate the loss of the ideal conception story and help her articulate feeling both sad for that loss and grateful for her baby at the same time.

The invisibility of infertility also means that some women may not have the vocabulary to identify and articulate their losses. Women with primary infertility endure the losses of pregnancy, delivery, parenthood and eventual grandparenthood but may not be able to understand for themselves that they are mourning the loss of an anticipated and desired life stage. Counselors can assist clients with developing language for their losses if they are struggling to verbalize their grief.

>> Get comfortable. Discussions about infertility may overlap with other taboo topics such as sex, masturbation, miscarriage and abortion. Many of the women I have met who have been affected by infertility have had miscarriages along the way. This brings about an additional — but connected — situation of grief and loss. Talking about miscarriage can be difficult to do without also bringing up abortion, given overlapping language (e.g., spontaneous abortion) and medical procedures (e.g., dilation and curettage). These topics can be slippery territory for personal bias, but counselors should regulate their own reactions and practice reflection to maintain appropriate neutrality and support. Engaging in self-care can be particularly important when counseling those affected by infertility.

Challenging infertility stigma

More and more, childbearing is being viewed as a choice rather than a societal or marital expectation, yet not having children is still considered to be somewhat taboo. Women are socialized from a young age to prepare for eventual motherhood through childhood play that often fosters a nurturing and caretaking role. Other cultural narratives suggest that women have an ability and responsibility to control their fertility. This contributes to self-blame and shame when they are unable to conceive. Infertility is infrequently discussed publicly and thus carries a sort of social stigmatization. Counselors can contribute to destigmatizing infertility by normalizing conversations about infertility, challenges to conception, fertility treatments, and miscarriage.

Stories related to infertility gained widespread media attention throughout 2018. That March, a fertility clinic in Ohio experienced a technical malfunction that caused the destruction of more than 4,000 eggs and embryos, a loss that most certainly had potentially devastating implications for the affected families. Then, in August, a rare visual of the emotional and physical struggle of trying to conceive was captured in a photograph that went viral of a newborn baby surrounded by the 1,616 IVF needles that it took to conceive her. In the months that followed, actress Gabrielle Union opened up about her emotional fertility journey that included numerous miscarriages and surrogacy, and former first lady Michelle Obama revealed her story that included miscarriage and IVF to conceive her two daughters.

These stories bring visibility to infertility and normalize conversations about the challenges that can come with attempting to get pregnant. Counselors can contribute to destigmatization by engaging in discussions and posing curious but sensitive questions about how resources and support can be bolstered for affected women and couples.

Conclusion

Each infertility story is unique, and no one-size-fits-all solution exists when it comes to helping women and couples work through their infertility grief. Whereas an obvious loss from the death of a loved one usually includes rituals and social support, the invisibility of infertility makes it difficult to identify the losses, often leaving women affected by these losses to deal with them in silence and isolation. Counselors can help clients find the vocabulary to articulate the losses they are grieving, give voice to what they need from the people around them, and create ways to process their grief in a warm, nonjudgmental atmosphere.

 

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Tristan McBain is a licensed professional counselor and licensed marriage and family therapist. She is a recent graduate from the Counselor Education and Counseling Psychology Department at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. Contact her at tristanmcbain@gmail.com.

 

Knowledge Share articles are developed from sessions presented at American Counseling Association conferences.

Letters to the editor: ct@counseling.org

 

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Related reading on this topic, from the Counseling Today archives: “Empty crib, broken heart

 

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Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

Grieving everyday losses

By Laurie Meyers April 24, 2019

As a society, we think we know what loss is: the death of a parent, partner or child; the destruction of a home through disaster; the shattering of finances through bankruptcy. These are tangible, recognized — sanctioned, if you will — losses. But counselors know that in reality, life brings myriad losses, many of which go unrecognized, unacknowledged and, most importantly, unmourned. The damage caused by these accumulated losses — sometimes referred to in the popular lexicon as “emotional baggage” — often brings clients to counselors’ doors wondering why they’re in so much pain.

In 1989, American Counseling Association member Kenneth Doka, who has written numerous books on grief and loss, established the phrase disenfranchised grief, which he defines as grief that is experienced by those who incur a loss that cannot be openly acknowledged, publicly mourned or socially supported. Disenfranchised grief may result from the loss of a relationship, the loss of identity or ability, pet loss, or even the loss of “giving up” an addiction.

“This unrecognized loss can be happening all around us but, because of the lack of acknowledgment and support, we wouldn’t know about it,” says ACA member Barbara Sheehan-Zeidler, a licensed professional counselor in Littleton, Colorado, whose practice specializes in grief and loss.

She gives the hypothetical example of a woman who is about to move to a thriving new town to start a higher paying job with great benefits. The woman has spent the past 20 years raising her family and creating a great life for her children, but now she is ready to move on. She is excited about entering this new phase in her life and meeting new people. At the same time, the woman is experiencing a lingering and persistent sense of sadness that she can’t explain.

What the woman is experiencing, Sheehan-Zeidler explains, is disenfranchised grief, which can affect clients in numerous ways:

  • Physically: Headaches, loss of appetite, insomnia, pain and other physical symptoms
  • Emotionally: Feelings of sadness, depression, anxiety or guilt
  • Cognitively: Obsessive thinking, inability to concentrate, distressing dreams
  • Behaviorally: Crying, avoiding others, withdrawing socially
  • Spiritually: Searching for meaning or pursuing changes in spiritual practice

In the example, the woman was not recognizing the losses of community, familiarity, social status and spiritual support from her local church that would come with moving, Sheehan-Zeidler explains. Once the woman actually identified and named those things as losses, the counselor was able to validate and explain her symptoms of insomnia, guilt, absent-mindedness, crying, indecisiveness, pervasive sadness and avoidance of social situations. This allowed the woman to grieve her losses and settle into her new life, Sheehan-Zeidler says.

“When we do not process unrecognized or disenfranchised losses, we run the risk of creating a narrative that is tainted with unprocessed feelings and unresolved grief,” she says. “Their Weltanschauung, a German word for worldview, is corrupted with an emotional burden that influences their beliefs and ability to connect. Consequently, they may be limited in projecting self-confidence needed to secure a new job or challenged to join a new social circle due to feelings of depression or unworthiness.” Unrecognized grief from the loss of a job, health or lifestyle can also cause secondary losses, such as damage to one’s self-esteem, a sense of shattered dreams, and lost community, she adds.

Sheehan-Zeidler helps clients process their grief through a variety of rituals. “I invite clients to create a special time, maybe 5 to 15 minutes daily, for the purpose of ‘being with’ their emotions and thoughts,” she says. “During this dedicated time, I suggest clients find a comfortable and private place to sit, journal their feelings and thoughts, light a candle, have soothing music, enjoy a cup of tea, and maybe have a special shawl or blanket to be used during these ‘time-to-mourn’ moments. Or maybe the client is more active, in which case I’d invite them to mindfully walk in a calming place where they can be with their thoughts and feelings as they reflect on their loss.

“The purpose of this time-to-mourn ritual is to create comfort around you and encourage the feelings to come forward in a planned way so we lead the dance with grief and mourning, and not the other way around. Additionally, as grief can come in unexpected waves, if we have a ritual in place, then we can put the ‘surprise’ grief aside, noting that we will visit with it the next time we are sitting or walking in our special place dedicated to honoring and processing the grief and mourning.”

Sheehan-Zeidler also recommends that clients drink plenty of water and get adequate sleep — taking naps if needed — as their minds and bodies process the loss. Finally, she reminds clients that their grieving process will include bad days, but also good ones.

Losing my addiction

“Put simply, disenfranchised grief is grief that is not acknowledged or valued by society,” says Julie Bates-Maves, an ACA member and a former addictions counselor. “Losses that are not seen as legitimate or worthy of our sadness or grief fit here.”

Addiction may be the king (or queen) of losses that are not typically viewed as legitimate or worthy. “Some people … don’t think that losing something ‘bad’ should hurt, but it does,” Bates-Maves says. “If we think about the functions of an addiction — that is, what they can provide for people — you start to see how hard they would be to give up.”

Bates-Maves notes all the ways in which addictions can fulfill people’s needs, albeit in unhealthy ways. “Addictive patterns often bring pain, but it’s a pain that’s familiar,” she notes. “They bring routine, even if it’s an unhealthy one. [It’s] the illusion of power and control over one’s body and mind: ‘I want to feel or think differently, and I know how to accomplish that.’”

Addiction can also provide companionship or escape from a sense of loneliness, whether through friends who also use, through distraction, through numbing (both physically and emotionally), or through the sense of energy and excitement that using substances can provide, Bates-Maves explains. “Losing any of that would be, at best, uncomfortable [and], at worst, unbearable,” she asserts.

“In my own clinical work and in speaking to other counseling professionals and clients, I have noted little discomfort or objection to exploring the negatives of an addiction with clients,” Bates-Maves says. “Notably, I have encountered hesitation or overt avoidance of the ‘positives’ of addiction, [such as] ‘don’t speak of the glory days’ or ‘don’t encourage clients to focus on what they miss; instead focus on what they have to look forward to in recovery.’ Consider this though — what if the ‘glory days’ are the only time the client felt powerful, or safe, or noticed, or admired, or skillful?”

When entering recovery, clients not only contend with the addition of a new set of behaviors, thoughts and feelings, but also an absence of “glory,” Bates-Maves continues. She believes that talking about the “positives” of addiction can help clients in recovery tackle challenges such as reestablishing a sense of their own identity, learning how to connect with others, and filling in any social skill deficits.

“Inviting reflection on the ‘glory’ of it all is a chance to observe a client reminisce about a time when they felt more worthy,” she explains. “If self-worth is centered on the addiction or a component of it, we need to know so we can help them redefine and reconstruct who they are, not just what they do. Losing an addiction is not simply losing a substance or behavior. It’s losing a way of surviving that our body and mind have become settled in. It can be a tremendous loss.”

As Bates-Maves points out, losses can occur anywhere along the addiction and recovery spectrum: prior to addiction; during addiction; during detoxification, treatment, initial, mid- or advanced recovery; prior to a lapse or relapse; and after a lapse or relapse. Some losses, such as a negative alteration in personal appearance or losing custody of children, may be the direct result of the person’s addiction. Other losses, such as the death of a parent, may happen separately from the person’s addiction but will still affect a client’s addiction or recovery, Bates-Maves emphasizes.

Other experiences common to people working to move from addiction to recovery include:

  • Loss of comfort: The person can no longer rely on his or her addictive pattern as a coping mechanism.
  • Loss of power: Choices are often restricted in recovery, and it’s not always OK to make a “bad” choice.
  • Loss of identity: The person may wrestle with the question, “If I’m not an addict, who am I?”
  • Loss of pain relief: The person may ask, “How am I supposed to manage my pain now? I don’t know any other ways that work as well as _________ does.”
  • Loss of perceived choice: Because substance use is no longer an option, the person has to find another way to live, cope and function.

“It can feel like the rug has been pulled out from under them, and some can flounder in the absence of the structure of an addiction,” Bates-Maves says.

“Also consider the more commonly talked about losses, like loss of lifestyle or [loss of] ‘using’ friends,” she adds. “While it may be healthy to move away from people who remain stuck in unhealthy patterns, it’s certainly not easy. As a counselor, I believe that people have a ton of worth, even in the presence of an addiction or negative behaviors. If I’m told to walk away from the positives of a relationship because there are also negative behaviors, I’d struggle. Clients deserve to struggle with that too. Health and happiness are not always the same thing. If I have the choice to be alone and healthy or to be in the company of others and unhealthy, I’d waiver — particularly if others forced me in one direction or another.

“I think it’s important that counselors really sit with what’s being asked of someone when they’re told they must now avoid people who are still using. Allow for the struggle and encourage clients to grieve the loss of good people who are still stuck. Don’t lose sight of the loss and grief there. Value what’s being lost or taken away instead of encouraging — or sometimes mandating — the death of a relationship. And talk about it. Balance is key. Talk about why some losses are needed, and validate that they’re painful. Allow the pain, allow the struggle, and help clients to cope with them as they move toward something different.”

Losses that are controllable — meaning that clients have some say over their occurrence — can actually foster hope in clients that there will be a chance for repair or course correction once they have adopted a new way of living, Bates-Maves says. Examples of losses that might be controllable include legal problems or convictions, family ruptures, loss of employment and financial problems.

However, even with new skills and hope, there is no guarantee that clients in recovery will be able to fix or recoup all that they have lost, she cautions. For that reason, counselors need to help these clients “sit with that and explore both options: How can I learn to be OK and heal if this is changed or fixed? And how can I learn to be OK and heal if this stays broken or less than I hope?”

“The key lesson there is that clients can reconstruct a meaningful life in recovery, even if some components never return to what they once were,” Bates-Maves says. “It’s about moving ahead and grieving what doesn’t move with you. Again, balance. Growth is often painful, and we want to value the pain and loss that come with growth. Knowing that some relationships have been damaged beyond repair might be very painful and a point of personal despair, but it can also be framed as a powerful motivator. We can mourn the past and work to repair the damage that’s done, and we can work to not repeat it. I think our main task as counselors is to help frame the pain as useful and informative. What people hurt about reveals what they value. It also reveals what they don’t want to repeat. Both elements are quite useful to a counselor in helping a client figure out where they want to go and how to start getting there.”

“I think the most important thing for counselors to remember is that change is really hard,” she emphasizes. “That may seem obvious, but consider how often we forget it. Sometimes clients are kicked out of treatment because they’ve lapsed or relapsed. Other times there are mandates about [whom] one can spend time with and [whom] one cannot, requirements for employment, etc.”

Continuing not to engage in addictive behavior, forging relationships with people who don’t use substances, and gaining and maintaining employment are all healthy goals. However, clients need to process many of their losses — particularly those connected to self-worth and self-efficacy — before it is possible for them to achieve those goals, Bates-Maves says.

“Give people credit for the pain that comes with change, and give them space to talk about it,” she urges. “Talk about how health and happiness aren’t the same thing [but] that the work of counseling is to make them closer. Talk about how in order to move forward, we often have to let go and how hard that is, even when we’re letting go of ‘bad’ things. Focus on where someone is and not only where we/they/you want them to be. If we want to help people move forward, we have to understand what’s keeping them where they are currently. But mostly, give people credit for the pain that comes with change, talk about it, and help them grieve.”

A question of identity

As a certified rehabilitation counselor and someone who sustained a spinal cord injury more than 30 years ago, ACA member Susan Stuntzner knows a lot about the losses and grief that come with disability. 

“At the time, I was paralyzed from the waist down, but within two months, I achieved some mobility and enough to walk with below-the-knee ankle-foot-orthotics [AFOs],” she recounts. “While learning to walk was a fantastic high point of the rehabilitation process, an equally important aspect was figuring out my new or different capabilities. More specifically, I learned I could not run, which is something I used to enjoy; lift more than 25-30 pounds; and that I had to push or pull things rather than lift as a means to move objects. I learned it was probably not a good idea to stand indefinitely and the importance of recognizing and honoring what my
body could do rather than expect me to do things in exactly the same way as I could before.”

Stuntzner also grappled with an issue that is particularly common among women with disabilities whose physical appearance is altered, either through injury or a disability present at birth: body image and attractiveness.

“Again, going back to my own experience, while muscles in my thighs worked, those below my knees did not. This meant my feet and ankles did not either,” she says. “Thus, there was a change in how I initially saw myself and my calves, as these did not have muscle return but they were an attached part of my body. Changing the way I viewed myself was difficult and a form of loss, as I was 19 years of age and highly conscious of fashion and, in particular, shoes. In short, I loved cool shoes and I still do. However, the partial paralysis below my knees meant I now had to wear AFOs and could no longer wear the stylish shoes I had so loved. While some of this may sound trivial, fashion and shoes — again, I was 19 years of age — was important to me, and this change represented a form of loss, along with the attention that my AFOs brought to the stranger passing by.”

“My own story is only one of many, as each person who lives with a disability — visible or invisible — has a story or set of experiences,” Stuntzner says. “For some, it may be cognitive changes [such as] memory, learning, recall, traumatic brain injury. For others, it may be health conditions [such as] irritable bowel syndrome, heart conditions [or] chronic obstructive pulmonary disease that disrupt daily activities and events. Other people live with sensory disabilities — loss of vision or hard of hearing. People who are hard of hearing but not deaf face challenges because people sometimes report not feeling as if they fit anywhere; they are not deaf, nor are they a part of the ‘hearing’ sector due to some of the limitations they experience.”

Regardless of a person’s specific set of circumstances, it is important that the person views themselves as a “whole” person, recognizes their assets and strengths, and builds upon those assets and strengths, Stuntzner says. Identifying one’s abilities, strengths and talents regardless of disability and functional limitations is a key part of what rehabilitation counselors help people do, she adds.

Counselors can help these clients grieve by listening and supporting them emotionally and psychologically as they work through the changes brought about by their disability, Stuntzner says. Counselors should understand that adjustment and grief are individualized processes and that two people with very similar conditions and functional changes may cope and adapt very differently, she notes. They also may require different therapeutic approaches to help them move forward. One size does not fit all based on disability type, Stuntzner emphasizes. It is important to view the person as a whole individual and to help people learn to see themselves as capable individuals comprising many different aspects and interests.

“Another key component of working through loss is helping people work through their negative thoughts and feelings, and experience successes, while living with a disability so they develop a strong internal locus of control and a sense that they can effect change in their life and create the life they seek,” Stuntzner says. “In short, it is about empowering people to discover who they are or who they can be in spite of the disability. As people become empowered, they learn to find their voice and own it and use it to help themselves and others. It is through this process that people oftentimes heal and learn to see the bright side of living with a disability.

“By bright side, I mean they learn to see the positive ways their life has changed or can change, and many find a higher purpose through the experience of living with a disability. However, this is a process, one that may begin with grief and loss, then morph into a personal and/or spiritual journey where people discover ways to grow and sometimes access their higher purpose or sense of self. It is on this journey that people find healing.”

Not just a pet

According to the American Veterinary Medical Association, at the end of 2016 (the latest year for which statistics were available), nearly 57 percent of American households had pets. Surveys have shown that the majority of people among that 57 percent also view their pets as part of the family. Yet many people do not regard the death of a pet as a “legitimate” loss. Indeed, those who have suffered the loss of a pet may not recognize their own grief, says licensed clinical professional counselor Cheryl Fisher, an ACA member whose counseling specialties include grief and loss.

In Fisher’s experience, it is not unusual for new clients to present with issues such as depression, anxiety or stress, and when talking about why they are seeking therapy, mention — almost as if it were a side note — “By the way, I just lost my cat.”

Fisher recalls a client who had come to her for grief counseling after the death of a relative. As Fisher listened, she realized that the client’s loss extended beyond that one death and that she was experiencing complicated grief.

The woman mentioned in passing that she rescued feral cats, two of which had died recently. These street felines were not easily domesticated, so the woman’s interactions with them had mainly been restricted to feeding them, Fisher notes. Yet the woman kept collecting them.

The client was very isolated. In fact, the recently deceased relative had been her only remaining family member. Except for the cats. As limited as her relationship was with them, the feral cats were her family, and she was grieving those losses as well.

“People are sheepish about sharing their grief, but our animals are the most vulnerable members of our families and also the most unconditional and accepting,” says Fisher, who shared the experience of losing her beloved dog Lily in her CT Online column, The Counseling Connoisseur (“Pet loss: Lessons in grief,” April 2017).

As she tells clients who are grieving (sheepishly or not), the relationships that people have with their pets — whether dogs, cats, fish or fowl — are strong not just emotionally but biochemically. In interacting with their pets, people feel a release of oxytocin, the hormone responsible for feelings of closeness and attachment.

Fisher also asks these clients to tell their “pet story.” She begins by asking how they met their pets. Fisher says the adoption or birthing story is very significant to the pet–human bond, and when clients start to recount it, they get very passionate as they open up to those memories.

“I always want to know the pet’s name, what kind [of animal it was], what the client liked to do with them and if they have pictures,” Fisher says. “It’s like traditional grief therapy — I’m helping them talk about their loved one.”

As clients talk, Fisher will say things that highlight the significance of their relationship with their pet. For example, she might say, “It sounds like Sadie stood right by you through the divorce.”

Fisher says she can almost see clients exhale: “You get it. I didn’t realize this was so important. She wasn’t just a cat!’”

Fisher also helps clients find ways to stay connected to their pet by giving examples of rituals that others have used. She urges clients to think about their relationship with their pet and the type of remembrance that would fit that bond.

For Fisher and her husband, it was taking Lily’s ashes to the beach where they and their goldendoodle had so often visited and played. “She loved the beach,” Fisher notes.

Some clients create scrapbooks with items such as their pet’s adoption papers and first pictures. Fisher included all the condolence cards she and her husband received in the wake of Lily’s death.

One of Fisher’s clients honored her cat, who loved to look out the window at birds, by constructing a special birdhouse that held pride of place next to the pet’s perch.

Fisher also mentions a video she saw at a conference on children and grief. It was called “Bridget’s Loss,” and in it, a little girl says goodbye to her fish in a “ritual flush.”

Fisher describes the scene: The mother, who filmed the video, asks her daughter if there is anything she wants to say before flushing the fish. The girl says, “Sammy, you were a good fish. You always did good fish things, and now you will be able to go with all the other fish, and I will see you in another time in heaven or wherever.”

The key to grieving pet loss is to have some kind of goodbye ritual, Fisher says, even if it is something completely private that involves only clients and their pet.

 

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Additional resources

To learn more about the topics discussed in this article, take advantage of the following select resources offered by the American Counseling Association:

Counseling Today (ct.counseling.org)

Books (counseling.org/publications/bookstore)

Webinars and podcasts

  • “An Overview of Military Service Members and Their Families: How Mental Health Professionals Can Best Serve This Population” with John P. Duggan and Odis McKinzie (WEB17002)
  • “When Grief Becomes Complicated” with Antoinetta Corvasce (ACA252)
  • “Love and Sex and Relationships” with Erica Goodstone (ACA231)
  • “Disability Awareness” with Robbin Miller (ACA196)
  • “Counseling Military Families” (ACA139)

ACA Mental Health Resources (counseling.org/knowledge-center/mental-health-resources/)

 

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Laurie Meyers is the senior writer for Counseling Today. Contact her at lmeyers@counseling.org.

Letters to the editor: ct@counseling.org

 

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Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

Counseling Connoisseur: Thanatechnology – Grief and loss in a digital world

By Cheryl Fisher June 8, 2018

Thanatechnology: Any kind of technology that can be used to deal with death, dying, grief, loss and illness.

 

Kelly (an alias), an eighth-grader, sits with her friends in the school auditorium as her principal calls out the names of each of her classmates who were killed in the recent shooting. To honor the lives of these young people, the school is hosting a remembrance ceremony. As tears run down her face, Kelly huddles close to her schoolmates and clicks away on her phone posting messages on several social network sites and a memorial site that she and her friends created. A text message pops up from a boy she met on one of the sites. He is a survivor of a school shooting that happened a couple of years ago — he understands.

Tony’s (alias) phone vibrates, rousing him from his slumber. He looks at the clock – it’s 2 a.m. He has to be up for school in just a few hours. He squints, trying to read the alert on his phone. Another teenager has died from drug overdose. He heaves a mournful sigh and turns on the bedside lamp. His phone begins to blow up with social media posts. The deceased didn’t attend his school but is related to his girlfriend’s best friend. Tony attempts to return to sleep, but he keeps thinking about the teenager [and] wondering why it happened.

Without a doubt, the youth of today are often exposed to significant and traumatic losses. Traditionally, we have marked death with rituals such as funerals and memorials and grieved with the support of counseling, faith communities and neighbors. In more recent years, technology has provided additional ways to remember and mourn, such as creating online memorials, seeking distant or virtual grief counseling and connecting with family, friends and even strangers without geographical limitations. It erases time and distance and allows for virtual experiences and expressions that promote a narrative that lives forever.

Digital Presence and Youth

In Dying, Death, and Grief in an Online Universe, researchers Kathleen R. Gilbert and Michael Massimi observe that digital technology can “bring people together for social support, provide information, and offer a venue for conducting grief work such as telling stories or building digital memorials.”

In another section of the book, researcher Carla Sofka writes that young people are even more likely to seek grief support online. Sofka explains that the internet, social media and other digital platforms are where younger generations are most comfortable because they provide opportunities for social interaction; a sense of independence and privacy; the ability to express and form their own identity; a sense of community that includes those that are marginalized; and instant alerts and communication. All of these elements allow youth to seek and find like-minded communities that can provide immediate support and strategies for coping with myriad life issues — including death and dying, and grief and loss.

 

Social Interaction

Online bereavement forums and chat rooms provide a sense of social connection with users. Sites such as Caring Bridge allow multiple users to maintain a virtual journal offering information and capturing narratives that are accessible to members. Tumblr, Facebook and Instagram create spaces where youth can just “hang out.” Video calling technology such as FaceTime and Skype bridge the distance between users and promote interaction and communication. Additionally, grief counseling may be offered via video, phone, chat or email formats.

Independence and Sense of Privacy

Teens turn to technology to carve out a private space for self-expression. However, research indicates that internet use often provides the illusion of anonymity, which may encourage a false sense of privacy. The struggle for privacy is nothing new: The tension between privacy and personal expression has existed between teens and parents for decades. In It’s Complicated: The Social Lives of Networked Teens, danah boyd*, principal researcher at Microsoft Research notes that social media introduced a new dimension to this age-old power struggle. Instead of worrying about what teens wear outside, parents are concerned about what pictures teens are posting about what they wear outside.

[*boyd prefers to spell her name with lowercase letters.]

“Although teens grapple with managing their identity and navigating youth-centric communities while simultaneously maintaining spaces for intimacy, they do so under the spotlight of a media ecosystem designed to publicize every teen fad, moral panic, and new hyped technology,” writes boyd.

Yet, online spaces allow for exploration of feelings and thoughts, examination of death anxiety, and expression of grief and loss. For example, a 14 year- old client crafted an entire mix of music and prose around the complicated emotions she experienced related to the death of her estranged father who had abused her as a little girl. Using an alias, she posted the eulogy online and watched as strangers connected with her, validating her feelings and experience.

Expression and Influence of Identity Formation

The internet provides creative space for expressing grief and honoring loved ones. Sites such as KIDSAID.com, offer children the opportunity to connect, interact and creatively express their grief. In addition to expressive sites and online memorial services such as Legacy, Remembered.com and Your Tribute provide an unfettered opportunity to honor loss, especially for those who are marginalized or disenfranchised. The use of letters, photos and sound provide rich and detailed memorials that allow users to express their grief, absorb their loss and ultimately move forward.

Sense of Community

Blogs provide a venue to capture experiences and to cultivate topic-based virtual communities. Boyd suggests that these constructed networks serve as a public place to interact with real and imagined communities, thus satisfying a desire to be part of a broader world.

Instant Alerts

Online communication is often in real time. Twitter, Snapchat and a variety of other digital sites offer instant notifications and ongoing engagement. Technology allows users to gather multiple streams of almost instantaneous information from afar. For example, recently I was at a social gathering where a young woman, glued to her phone, was continuously texting. At one point I interjected, “Is everything alright?” She looked up and shook her head. “No, I have a friend who was just in a car accident and the medics are transporting her to shock trauma. Her parents are on their way to the hospital — but no one thinks she’s going to make it.”

The accident occurred in another state, yet this young woman was experiencing the event minute by minute via her phone messaging.

There are numerous attractive features to thanatechnology. Information is persistent and endures. There is a sense of immortality and legacy when a person’s comments, photos and work is posted in cyberspace. It is visible to infinite numbers of individuals. It is spreadable, and with one repost or share, hundreds more are invited into our experience. It is searchable. Just yesterday someone emailed me after reading my article on pet loss and grief. She had been Googling information about pet loss and my article popped up. I was able to provide her with additional support resources.

While there are many helpful aspects of using technology for grief support, there are some serious causes for pause. Are the online interactions healthy? Who is actually participating in the network communities? Are youth oversharing personal information while in a vulnerable state? How pervasive are social divisions and are they perpetuated in the participating forums?

Clinicians, parents and educators must be digitally literate and provide opportunities for genuine face to face connection while acknowledging the cyberworld of teens. Using technology during this very vulnerable time can provide tremendous support and healing, but it may pose risks. Counselors have the responsibility to help youth develop the skills to navigate technology in a way that creates a safe environment for their grief experience and promotes bereavement support.

 

 

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Cheryl Fisher

Cheryl Fisher is a licensed clinical professional counselor in private practice in Annapolis, Maryland. She is director and assistant professor for Alliant International University California School of Professional Psychology’s online MA in Clinical Counseling.  Her research interests include examining sexuality and spirituality in young women with advanced breast cancer; nature-informed therapy: and geek therapy. She may be contacted at cyfisherphd@gmail.com.

 

 

 

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Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.