Warning: This question is about dead babies, and may make you sad

vs.

I understand the negative reaction toward earlier practices, but I think we should definitely cut some slack for the generations who wandered into the sterile “we want to take this pain away from you” mentality. I do not know exactly how the medical community drifted into that thought process (although I have seen the usual pop psychology explanations that the whole “mechanization” of medicine with the advent of allopathogenic medicine simply removed the heart from caregivers), but I think we should recognize that the persons involved at the time were doing it because their culture prompted them to (mis)understand it to be the best approach to dealing with the pain.

Remember, even the OP was unsure of the practice (hence the question) over 30 years after Kübler-Ross got the country to at least talk about the issues. Much in our society shuns and avoids death and I don’t think it is fair to castigate as vile mistakes that were made in good faith–even while recognizing that they had tragic consequences that exacerbated the pain.

Before a certain point (28 weeks, I believe, although I may be wrong about this detail and it may not be the same everywhere you go) it’s not classified as a stillbirth, it’s a miscarriage, for which no birth certificate is issued.

I would also add that “try not to think about it” was more viable advice when people lived lives of near-constant grueling labor, and staying functional was more important when any lapse in that grueling labor could have immediate and profound consequences–the harvest doesn’t wait, in other words. We have the double-edged luxury today of being able to freely grieve, and while that should never be denied, you can see how attitudes would be different in an era when people just didn’t have much time.

To clarify–I am not saying people of old did not mourn their dead–there is a plethora of evidnece that they did-but delaying or diluting that grief was a lot more feasible when you could bury yourself in work.

This thread is fascinating, I had no idea about any of this. It’s all very enlighening. I have some questions though…

It seems a woman carrying her deceased baby for several months would suffer serious medical complications. Also, I was under the impression that, generally, when the child dies in utero that the body will abort it on its own. Am I wrong or is it more circumstantial?

Interestingly, there is a tide of professional opinion amongst psychologists/psychiatrists that is turning toward the view that ‘trying to forget’ is actually a better thing to do (in some cases at least).
The example provided of this (and it is only one example, but apparently is backed up with a body of proper evidence) was of two Jewish men who were both captured and held in Nazi concentration camps; on their release, one of them went through what would probably be normal processes of grief; the other consciously shut away all dark thoughts and strove to live a normal, non-grieving life.
The first man is still painfully haunted by the memories and grief - to the point that his life is still wrecked, even all these years later; the other man is more or less fully functional - he can talk about his experiences and relate to them, but without them destroying him all over again; it is claimed that the period of strained normality he imposed upon himself allowed his mind to ‘seal over’.

I have a question about the necessity of carrying a dead fetus to term. Wouldn’t dead tissue of any kind decompose in the mother’s body and place the mother in danger of deadly bacteria and other products of a decaying body? My question isn’t meant to be trolling whatsoever, but I am very curious about this and wish to be as respectful as possible.

I’m not sure, however, that the case of dwelling on a loss and grieving for years is quite comparable to the dichotomy of being given a few minutes (or even a couple of hours) to “say goodbye” vs having a child whisked away by the authorities and then being told to simply “forget it.”

I’m sure I agree.

Some clarification regarding the meaning of my OP:

What I found “utterly horrific” wasn’t so much the prospect of the lady holding her deceased child, but more the idea that the doctors were insisting that she do this even though she said (to my recollection more than once) that she didn’t want to.

(Hazy memory, I may be remembering the episode incorrectly.)

This didn’t come across clearly in my post, though, I see now.

After reading through this thread, I suspect my intuition may be right–that it is best for the doctors not to push this or that method for dealing with the tragedy, but rather, be open to the parents’ choice as to how to mourn, whatever that choice may (reasonably) be.

I feel quite certain I myself would need to do a “period of strained normality” like that described in the post about the two holocaust survivors. But I understand this would not be best for everyone.

I suspect, also, that it could tend to be very different for mothers as opposed to fathers.

-Kris

In our case, I asked the funeral director about a birth/death certificate. At the time, I was visiting him while collecting death certificates he had received for my father. (We’ve had some trying times, the past three years.) As I looked them over, I asked what Hayden’s (our son’s) certificate looked like, if there even was one. In the case of my father, many death certificates were needed for insurance, bank accounts, mortgage, etc. You’d be amazed. For Hayden, however, no certificates were needed and I never asked for or received one.

Anyway, the funeral director (who is a saint if I’ve ever met one), showed me a blank copy of a certificate used in the event of a stillbirth. It’s a birth and death certificate in one. It has all the normal information, but it’s all on one page. I have never gotten a certificate for Hayden. It just never seemed worth the expense. I may get one one day, just because. I don’t know. I felt better knowing that such a certificate was on file in Austin.

Why does it matter? Because he existed. In our modern world, we are all made up of paperwork. I have a birth certificate, a driver’s license, a college degree, a high school diploma, a teacher’s certificate (actually, two of those), and so on. There are tax returns, newspaper articles, letters to the editor, and even chatboard posts that testify to my existence. My Hayden didn’t even get a TAX DEDUCTION!!! Had he drawn ONE breath, he would have been a citizen. One breath and he would have had one line on my 2003 tax return. It’s not the money. It’s the fact that he existed. I am glad that, at the very least, officially, the State of Texas acknowledges that he was, for however briefly, here.

I can tell you so many stories about my daughter’s successes and struggles. I can regale you with many funny stories about my son’s unique way of expressing himself. I have but one story of Hayden. I tell it at such length in these posts because it is the only story I have.

As to the OP’s episode from ER. I believe you are describing an episode in which Dr. Carter and his girlfriend (played by Thandie Newton) lose their baby. I forget what caused their loss. I believe the doctor insisting the mother hold the baby was Dr. Carter, the baby’s father. This, I think, is somewhat different than an attending physician being so pushy.

This episode aired almost exactly one year after we lost Hayden. My wife and I have watched ER since it’s inception (it’s our date-night show), so quitting just because of this storyline was out of the question. We watched this episode and were amazed by how closely it paralleled our experience. There was the same realisation, the struggle to do the delivery, the anguish at the end. Later, Dr. Carter and what’s-'er-name split up. Fortunately, my wife and I never considered that route. Much of what they did afterward was very different from our experience. But, my wife and I felt that the hospital’s behavior was somewhat accurate.

My wife wanted to hold the baby, up until he was brought to her (by me). Then it became much too real. Still, she took him and held him as normally as she could manage. (Even in a normal birth experience, the mother’s chemistry is such a mess that many things seem different. She had just had a C-section, which is major abdominal surgery, so she had her own health issues to deal with in addition to the baby.) My mother had to gulp a deep breath and clutch to my dad in order to come into the room. She knew that she had to do it, though, or she would wish she had later. My father-in-law didn’t want to hold the baby for fear he would drop him. He probably would have felt that way even in more normal circumstances. My mother-in-law, my other kids, and many others took turns holding the baby at various times. Some visitors did not, and that’s okay too.

As to those of you offering condolences and well-wishes, thank you. Even through such a mostly anonymous place, they do mean something to us.

I’ll stop rambling now.

Something similar happened to my brother and his wife, different in the sense that the baby was born alive, though with no prospects for survival. As one would expect, she found the process of bringing a doomed infant to term very trying (they learned of the problem about a month before delivery). The brief few weeks they were able to hold him were terribly important.

Birth Certificates are public information. As are Death certificates. (But if your brother was stillborn, there may not be a death certificate; just a birth certificate indicating “stillborn”.) If he survived a few hours to a day, there is probably a death certificate. Nowdays, many of these are even viewable online.

You should be able to look up this information, and at least get answers to some of your questions.

Thank you. I will check. The NYC records are only searchable for pre-1948 records, I have to submit paperwork and wait 2-3 weeks. But I think I will do that.

My son, Tommy, was born in 2002 at 19 weeks after a crash C-section (long, horrid ongoing story that I’ll talk about some other time). He lived for about 30 minutes and died in my arms. Those 30 minutes were enough for us to get a birth certificate (and Drum God, he was even a tax deduction) along with a death certificate.

My wife and I have had a total of 6 losses, three of which were in the second trimester. We were able to hold Bridget (21 weeks) and Tommy. Erin (18 weeks) did not come through the birth process well so we couldn’t hold her. They were baptized, we got a certificate with their footprints, we got to keep their blankets and the little hats they put on them. We also got photos to remember them (as if their faces would ever leave us). All three of them have been buried near each other.

To all of you that have been through this horrific experience, my heart goes out to you and your lost little ones. To those who know someone going through this, be there for them.

Death is so hard for people to handle on a regular basis but the loss of an unborn baby is worse in many ways. Some people think, “The baby didn’t die because it was never born and so didn’t live.” (yeah, I actually heard someone say that. That baby we watched sucking it’s thumb on ultrasounds and my wife felt wriggling around was most certainly alive. I don’t care what the pro-choice people claim) Or, “They’ll get over it and try again.” (after six losses my wife had her tubes tied. Our hearts had been broken enough) Or, “It’s probably for the best, there was probably something wrong with the baby.” (all genetic tests and examinations determined they were all perfectly normal).

Let the parents grieve, however long it takes. Let them tell about their baby, their dreams, their depression. Ask them what the baby’s name is (not “was”). If they mention a picture, ask to see it. Remember the anniversary date with flowers or a card. Same for Mother’s Day. Bring them meals, help with groceries. Most importantly, listen and hold them.

And don’t forget the father. He might try to put on a strong face, wanting to hold his wife up and not let her know how much he hurts but his whole world is crumbling. The typical man wants to solve the problems and protect his wife and family. Now a situation has come up that is totally out of his control, he can’t protect his child’s life and can’t save his wife from the pain. Take him aside and let him know that it is OK to grieve out loud and it really is OK to cry.

Dr. Carter’s reaction was so strong and realistic, that I started sobbing because I know exactly how that felt. I don’t know where Noah Wyle found that pain, but he expressed it perfectly.

Wouldn’t you say that was the latter part of the 20th century, though? Prior to the second World War, death bed photos of loved ones-including infants, were perfectly common. Even photos of parents holding their stillborn child, I would imagine. Back then, infant deaths were common-even expected, so people were a wee bit more comfortable with death.

To those in this thread who have lost little ones, please except my sincere condolences.

erie774, well said. I am so sorry for your six losses. One was plenty for us. In our case, it was our third child. One family member (who doesn’t have children) actually said, “At least you have kids.” Trying for another child is an issue we struggle with daily – it is an impossible choice. I respect your repeated efforts.

I especially like what you said about fathers. You perfectly expressed how I felt. There is that intense need to fix it, but there’s nothing to fix. My wife dreaded going home – I wanted to take her and my kids home, throw everyone else out, slam and lock the door.

Best wishes in whatever the future holds.

I had one that died at 22 weeks. I went in for the ultrasound, and my doctor said that within a few days labor would start, at which point I should come to the hospital just as if the baby had made it full term. Never started, although I only gave it five days, which was as long as I could take. (And I was trying to work, pretty ineffectively–it was a really bad week.) At that point I went into the hospital for an induction (which, in my understanding, goes into the hospital’s records as an abortion, even if the fetus was already dead). It was very hard to think of it as a birth.

The usual thing, apparently, is for labor to start, but it’s not that unusual for it not to, either. I think there are some potential physical complications with continuing to carry the child for longer than a couple of weeks. There are for sure some psychological complications and it doesn’t even take one week.