THE
QUALITY OF A PERSON’S LIFE CANNOT BE JUDGED BY OUR LIMITED UNDERSTANDING OF
TIME.
You’re a
broken-hearted parent. You’ve just lost your baby unexpectedly at birth, or
soon after, and you’re reeling emotionally from your precious child’s death.
Or you’ve just received news from your doctor that the baby you’re carrying in
your womb has died, or will not live long after birth because she has a devastating, untreatable medical condition.
The last
thing you prepared for was this. You prepared a nursery—at least mentally—and
purchased baby clothes, maybe had a baby shower or two, picked out names and
made wonderful plans for the new addition to your family. But now all of that
has to be set aside for your new reality. (All except the names, that is.)
But don’t
lose sight of the fact that this baby is just as real and just as precious as
your other children, or the children you might have or be parents to in the
future. Because you are stunned into numbness at the news, you may forget or
neglect to consider how important it is to create memories of your little one,
even in the short amount of time you might have with them. You won’t ever want
to forget this priceless little person because he was indeed a part of your
life, if only while you carried him.
Consider the
following to help you create a “living” memory of your child:
1. TAKE A PICTURE OF YOUR BABY
THERE
IS ONLY ONE
BEAUTITUL
CHILD IN THE WORLD
AND
EVERY PARENT HAS IT
A single
picture will be something you can value just as much as the other pictures you
have, or will take, of this child’s brothers or sisters. It will be tangible
evidence that your baby was a part of your life, even for only a short time.
Take a camera to the hospital with you for the delivery. Arrange for a hospital
photographer, or a professional photographer to come in, if possible. (I have
two blurry Polaroid pictures of Victoria. I wish I’d had someone take more
professional shots. I regret that, but this was before digital cameras and cell
phones, so I didn’t have a lot of options. Even one of those disposable cameras
would have been better than what I do have. Also, I hadn’t considered taking
pictures. The nurse suggested that. I was grateful for her suggestion. I just
regret that I didn’t plan ahead for any possibility.)
2. SEEING, HOLDING, (AND TALKING TO), YOUR BABY
A PERSON’S A PERSON
NO MATTER HOW SMALL
Dr. Seuss
Often
parents are afraid of seeing their dead child because of what they might look
like. Medical staff has found that when parents only imagine what the dead child looks like, they later develop
distorted notions that may worsen the feelings and grieving process. Most
parents are actually relieved and pleased when they do take the opportunity to
see and hold their baby, like my husband Chris was when they brought Victoria
out to him. The vision of their baby—as if in sleep—ends up being far more
comforting than any ideas they would have mentally manufactured. (It was a
great relief and blessing to be able to hold and feel Victoria, to examine her
fingers, toes, and limbs. To “talk” to her, to bundle her, to caress her. To
give her any physical love I could in the short amount of time I had with her.
And she did appear to be simply resting peacefully in deep sleep.)
Ask the
nurse to bundle the baby like a newborn, and then don’t be afraid to ask the
nurse to stay with you while you hold the baby, or to leave the room so you can
have some privacy with your little one.
3. BATHE YOUR BABY OR DRESS THEM IN A SPECIAL OUTFIT
These might
seem strange suggestions, but many parents find that doing these activities
“may help to satisfy some of your intense desires to care for your baby, the
same desires which you anticipated when you still expected the baby to be born
alive. The fact that the child is dead does not automatically diminish your
need to cradle, and speak words of love to him or her.” (One of the most
shocking realizations for me was that my
body didn’t know that Victoria had died and reacted just as it did when I
gave birth to Parker. I’ll go into more detail in next week's posts, but your
body and mind have the same desires to hold, nurture, and protect your dead
infant as they do for a living one.)
Take a special item of clothing with you to the hospital to
dress your baby in. Take pictures of her in that outfit. This might be the clothing you would like to have the mortician dress her in too.
4. COLLECTING REMINDERS OF YOUR CHILD
The
following items may become treasured items providing sweet reminders of
your
little one.
~
a lock of hair (although not all babies are born with hair)
~
a set of footprints or handprints
~
a birth certificate
~
final ultrasound pictures or film
~
the plastic arm bracelet prepared by the hospital to identify your child
~
a record of the weight, length, head and chest measurements, like the ones
taken
for all babies at their birth
~
the receiving blanket your baby was first wrapped in (I have a receiving
blanket,
but it’s not the first one Victoria was wrapped in. I wish I had
that
one. If I had thought about it, I could have asked Chris to keep it.)
5. NAME YOUR BABY
HUMAN BEINGS SHOULD NOT DIE
WITHOUT THEIR NAMES BEING REMEMBERED
This may
seem obvious, but parents don’t always name their babies, particularly if they
die in utero early in the pregnancy. Medical staff experienced in this area
strongly encourage you to name your baby, preferably the name you had planned
to name the child. It will be easier to “connect your memories” to this special
baby if you are able to refer to them by name and remember them by name. Resist
the temptation to give them another name and “save” the name you had selected
for another baby you might have in the future. Not giving your baby a name may
leave you, and others, with the feeling that the baby didn’t count. Names have significance.
Names identify people; they hold special meaning for family and friends. My
little girl was as much “Victoria” in death as she was in life.
6. WRITE A LETTER TO YOUR BABY
Some
people, particularly the writer and journaling-types, find it helpful to write
a letter to their baby expressing their immediate feelings. It can be cathartic
to express your pain this way. in a personal letter that no one else sees, or
one you share with others at a funeral or memorial service—somewhat like a
eulogy. On-line forums are also available for you to share your grief, like
Caring Bridge. Some sites allow you to share your feelings anonymously; blogs
are available for fathers and mothers to share their pain and experiences. It was immensely helpful to me
sit and write my manuscript about these events. My entire story encompasses two
years; yours may encompass more, or less time.
The danger
comes in when you constantly relive
these moments by frequently reading
and re-reading what transpired, or pull out the keepsakes to look at and touch.
Doing so will keep you rooted in the past, your pain, and your loss. It will
deter the healing process. In next week’s extra blog post, I will cover ways
you can say goodbye—memorial or funeral service— and celebrate the birth and
death of your baby.
WE
MUST NOT WALLOW IN OUR MEMORIES
OR
SURRENDER TO THEM,
JUST
AS WE DON’T GAZE ALL THE TIME AT A VALUABLE PRESENT.
BUT
GET IT OUT FROM TIME TO TIME, AND FOR THE REST HIDE IT AWAY
AS A
TREASURE WE KNOW IS THERE ALL THE TIME.
TREATED
THIS WAY, THE PAST CAN GIVE US LASTING JOY
AND
INSPIRATION.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer
I
hope some of these suggestions are helpful to you. Some of them may initially
strike you as being odd, but think about and consider them, then decide what treasures
you’d like to have and keep. I know I would like to have more; and I treasure
the ones I do have.
And now I leave you with this anonymous
poem ~
BUT SOUVENIRS
Daughters
may die,
But why?
For
even daughters can’t live with half a heart.
Three days isn’t much of a life.
But
long enough to remember thin blue lips, uneven
gasps in incubators,
Racking
breaths that cause a pain to those who watched.
Long enough to remember I never held
her
Or
felt her softness
Or counted her toes.
I
didn’t even know the color of her eyes.
Dead paled hands not quite covered
by the gown she
Was
to go home in.
Moist earthy smell.
One
small casket.
And the tears.
You
see, I hold in my hand but souvenirs of an occasion.
A sheet of paper filled with
statistics,
A
certificate with smudged footprints,
A tiny bracelet engraved “Girl,
Smith.”
You
say that you are sorry
That you know how I feel.
But
you can’t know because I don’t feel.
Not yet.
_________________________________________________
Until
next week…
Andrea
*Some quotes/lines of thoughts and
poetry were taken from when Hello means
Goodbye: A Guide for Parents Whose Child Dies Before Birth, At Birth Or Shortly
After Birth by Pat Schwiebert, RN and Paul Kirk, MD, 1985.
(This is an additional post this week to my blog. If you're looking for the continuation of my story, see the previous, Monday, March 4th post.)
(This is an additional post this week to my blog. If you're looking for the continuation of my story, see the previous, Monday, March 4th post.)
No comments:
Post a Comment