Oh, yeah, they did that to you, all right. And it wasn’t so long ago. My oldest child was born in 1984, and when we were in Lamaze classes, checking out the hospital, etc., the times were a’changing, but very, very slowly, and the attitude from health care professionals even then was, “Ehhh, we’re not sure whether we should let them hold the dead baby or not, sounds kinda radical”, so we learned that if we did experience a stillbirth, we were going to have to raise some heck with the hospital workers on the scene and DEMAND to see our baby BEFORE they whisked it away to the morgue (they persisted in referring to it as a “fetus”, too. 'Twasn’t a “baby” unless it was a live infant, y’see. And holding and grieving the results of a preemie labor, or a second trimester miscarriage, was just beyond the pale, out of the question. If it didn’t look like a “baby”, then it wasn’t, and they were going to take it away immediately. Simple as that.)
And by the time my second kid was born in 1987, it was pretty much the same, lotta foot-dragging on the subject. It wasn’t until 1990 and the third kid that I remember being told during Lamaze refresher and hospital orientation and such that “if your baby is born dead, you have the right to hold it before they take it away.”
Nothing I can think of to say seems adequate, but I wanted to express my sincere condolences. Reading about your tragedy brought tears to my eyes. You and your family will certainly be in my thoughts and prayers.
All prayers welcomed - we have good days and bad days, good hours and bad hours. Close friends of ours who were also pregnant, due two weeks before we were, gave birth to a little girl (Ella Grace) yesterday, their first. We’re really happy for them of course, but Pixie has taken it hard. Her milk has also kicked in, in spite of medication to prevent this, and she has developed mastitis, although she’s on antibiotics which seem to be helping.
We went to church this morning for the first time, and it was easier than I had feared. People managed to avoid the extremes of avoiding us because they didn’t know what to say and gushing their own emotions all over us in an effort to show how much they empathise. Once again we discovered several people who had been through the same experience, either losing children themselves or having friends or children who had done so. My Gran, it turns out lost a baby between my Dad and my uncle - I never knew this… It’s like a secret brotherhood…
Zoe’s funeral was this morning - and although I was either in tears or on autopilot through the whole thing, I think it was a fitting and appropriate service for her. Pixie carried the coffin in and after the service, I carried it out to the hearse. The theme, with it being so close to Easter, was the hope of resurrection that we hold on to as Christians. My folks and Pixie’s mom (all the way from Cape Town) were there, as were my sister (in from Budapest) and my two cousins, along with about 50 special people who took time out early on a Tuesday morning to draw aside and remember our little girl.
We had a collection plate out for people who wanted to make a contribution to our donation to Tommy’s, which together with the online donations means that we have raised almost £850 (over $1500) toward research into the causes and prevention of miscarriage and stillbirth!! We just pray that everyone’s generosity will mean that other parents can be spared the heartbreak we have endured.
A line has been drawn - as we left the church and walked down the hill to our house, the clouds that had covered the sky all morning began to clear and it began to turn into the warm, bright day the weather forecast had predicted. I thought it was an appropriate metaphor for our lives, now that the funeral was over, we could begin to look forward to the rest of our lives - not to forget, for Zoe has left a hole that nothing, not even other children, will ever fill - but to begin to heal…
I just saw this thread for the first time…I am so sorry. That is a woman’s worst nightmare when she is pregnant, and all parents’ worst nightmare to lose their child. Hold on tight to your wife, it must feel like her own body is a constant reminder right now. What an aching physical loss as well as emotional and spiritual. I really can’t imagine.
My prayers are with you and your family…I don’t know what else to say to you except I hope you all can find peace again. Our church has a support group for those who have lost children, does yours?
Not as such, but we have been given information about a national charity that does have such support groups, the hospital has invited us to a memorial service with other parents who have lost children and the church are organising bereavement counselling for us, so I trust that we will be sufficiently supported through this…
I wish I could tell you that you’ve turned a corner and everything will be wonderful with you now; but I can’t.
It’s my experience that a parent who has lost a child will experience a different type of grief with each passing of the next four seasons and all of the calendar holidays that the next twelve months brings.
I’ve empathised with many other loss-parents and still don’t know how best to express the uniqueness of this type of loss. So, please understand if my expressions seems disjointed and confused.
I wish I had seen this sooner so that I could’ve added my voice to the others. I’m so very, very sorry that this tragedy has befallen you and yours. Know that in the coming weeks and months, many of us will continue to think peaceful thoughts for Zoe and her loved ones. My heart goes out to you all.
I haven’t any children, so I’ll give an extra hug to my neighbor’s newborn little girl for you.