Before I was a nurse, I lost a mid-term boy from incompetent cervix, and the nursing care I received ranged from awful to bad (they were all clearly upset and unprepared to deal with my grief). Except for the one nurse who took care of my baby after delivery. She was the one bright spot: honest and encouraging, telling me what to expect, why he looked as he did, how he was perfect, what needed to be done, etc. She also gave him the dignity of a bath and a diaper, footprints, hand prints, portrait and so forth. She found him a hat, a tiny receiving blanket, and a sturdy white envelope box to contain him when we took him home for burial.
I was glad to go back to that unit as a nurse, see her, and thank her for her good work. The key to her success, in my opinion, was to set aside any discomfort she might have had, forget herself, and empathize deeply.