Sympathy, Empathy, Miscarriage and Death

You would think that by now I'd be "OK" with the feeling of someone telling me they have miscarried.  You'd think by now, I'd know how to feel, or what to say.

I don't.

It seems to me that this "common" occurrence will never become "common" topic or "common" word, as I so hope it would.

Long after I've written down my story, heard others tell me theirs, this "common" occurrence still feels uncommonly heartbreaking.  I don't break for my loss anymore.  I now only break for those who have to endure what I know feels unexplainable.

It brings me to the question of the difference between empathy and sympathy.  I've had this conversation before amongst family members who were dying.  We were trying to discuss the key differences between someone who shows sympathy, and someone who has empathy.  I like the words shows and has.  Shows sympathy.  Has empathy.

There are many definitions out there for the differences between empathy and sympathy.  The simplest definition comes to say that empathy portrays a sense of feeling, of what the person is going through.  But this is obviously impossible, in the fact, that you can never truly FEEL what someone else feels.  Although, your mental state, emotions, and sometimes even physical pain, can elude to the fact that you do actually feel this person's pain.

So when someone tells me that they have miscarried and I want to convey empathy and not just sympathy how do I do that?  I've been told I do, but I'm not even sure how I do it.  I'm not sure it's possible to put into words, especially in delicate situations where it's easy to say the wrong things.

Even for people who have been through similar situations it's quite easy to say the wrong thing.  I know I've said the wrong things even after I've been through the experience myself.  I didn't even know I had said the wrong thing and never was told I did.  But after contemplating the conversation later, I realized something I said, trying to be "empathetic", was probably not the best thing to say.  Even to someone who has gone through a "comparable" loss.  Even saying their loss is comparable could be the wrong thing!  How would we all know if these losses are comparable when everyone's sense of loss is different?

So even after all these years, "comparable" situations and "comparable" conversations, I've still come to the same unsure conclusion.  Is there a way to convey empathy over sympathy when it comes to miscarriage and death?  How have I been doing it when I do it well?  How have I been doing it when I do it poorly?

Maybe empathy is being able to portray a feeling, not just words.  A feeling beyond the words of "I'm sorry for your loss."

Maybe that feeling comes across more powerful than just the words alone.  The words alone are sympathy.  Sympathy can say the wrong things.  The words along with feeling for the person are empathy.  Maybe empathy doesn't even need words.  Empathy doesn't ever say the wrong thing.  Maybe in situations where the wrong things might have been said, the empathy trumps the sympathy.  People feel the love of empathy even when the words of sympathy faultier.  And when the love of empathy is combined with the right words of sympathy, that's the most comforting of all.

Maybe it's just as simply, complicated as that.