 |
  |
| |
|
| GUEST CORNER Creating Memories -- Cynthia Fritz Cynthia Fritz is a certified bereavement counselor, and the mother of a stillborn son. After experiencing stillbirth herself, Cynthia reached out to other parents to offer support and hope. Her work includes the videos "At a Loss for Words" and "Footprints on Our Hearts" (reviewed in a previous issue of WiSSPers). In our last issue, Cynthia shared a moving account of the stillbirth of her son London. Here, she brings us her thoughts specifically about "Creating Memories". |
| Losing a baby is tragic. Whether it is
the third week of pregnancy or shortly after birth,
dreams are shattered, the heart is broken. The care that
the parent(s) receive in the hospital can be a very
significant factor in their healing process. If they were
treated with com-passion by an enligh-tened staff, the
benefits are many. The compas-sion has the warmth of
heart touching heart, of grief acknowledged, of pain
validated. The enlightened nurse or doctor provided them
with the options that they may or may not have realized
were available to them (most likely the latter). They may
have been encouraged to see and hold their baby. (This is
something that I personally feel is the single most
significant thing that we whose baby has died can do. It
offers us a chance to see, to love, to hold, to kiss, and
even to parent our child who we have longed to see since
our awareness of conception.) They may have pictures,
footprints, handprints, a lock of hair, the hat, the ID
bracelet, and the blanket. These are important mementos,
the significance of which only increases with time. As
our memory fades, the things become more
important, as they often come to represent the child who
does not sleep beside us, whose gurgles do not sing in
our ear, whose warmth does not envelop our body and soul.
But what if the parents don’t have the things, or precious few? What can they do then? What are their options for "creating memories"? In supporting many bereaved parents, I have very often found that for many parents, particularly mothers, there comes a time when a fear sets in. A fear that the world will forget. A fear that the neighbor, or friend, or brother-in-law, or even the favorite aunt will forget that their child ever existed. Or that their child will be thought of as "the loss" and not the child that occupied time and space, the child who had a name, the child who had a future, the child who was, and always will be loved. Creating ways to acknowledge the existence of that child can help alleviate the fear that the child will be forgotten. It also gives the parent something to do for their child, as they were given little or no opportunity to do any of the things that they as parents anticipated doing. One of the most meaningful things that one can do for their child is name him or her. Often they have been named well before their birth. Sometimes they haven’t. Sometimes the gender may not even be known. In any case, and at any time (even four years later), a baby can be named. It is a gift that one gives to their child, an identity, a place in the heart. In my years of supporting bereaved parents, I have heard of many wonderful ways to "create memories". Following are some of those ideas. Many parents purchase a piece of jewelry which honors their child. It can be a necklace, perhaps a cross or a special charm, with an inscription on the back with the baby’s name and birthdate. Some have an inscribed charm bracelet or an angel pin. A man who uses a money clip may have one engraved. These also make very thoughtful gifts, perhaps for one parent to give to the other. I have a mother’s ring with a birth stone for each of my five children, which includes my son London, who was stillborn in 1989. It’s very special to me and it is comforting to have his birthstone side by side with his brother and sisters’. Planting a rosebush or a tree in honor of a child can be meaningful. It’s something that is living and grows. We planted a Japanese maple tree outside of our kitchen window and it is lovingly known as London’s tree. Something that I did which I found very therapeutic was to create an album of my child. I included sonogram pictures, pictures of my son, of my other children visiting me in the hospital, quotes of special things people said to me at that time, the bulletin from his funeral, pictures of flowers that were sent to us. We asked our minister for a copy of her meditation at the funeral. I included many of the beautiful cards that we received. Other things that could be included are a letter from a parent to their child, a prayer, an inspirational writing that gave comfort. If the parents saw and/or held their baby, they can write about their memory of that — what the baby looked like, how the baby felt in their arms, which side of the family the baby favored. If the baby lived for a brief time after birth, it can be very rewarding to ask a nurse or two who cared for the child to write about their memories of the brief life of the baby. I know one mother who had asked that of a nurse from the NICU. The nurse felt honored to be asked and wrote a beautiful piece about the baby, which will be forever cherished. I am a great encourager of writing, of journaling. It is of great import and value to find a way to acknowledge and express what one is really feeling and thinking inside. Putting things down on paper is an excellent way of self discovering, or processing, of healing. Some of these writings could also become a special part of an album. One of my favorite memento creations is the way that one father honored his daughter. He had an angel tattooed onto his back shoulder with his daughter’s name under it. A mother who lost quadruplets has a grandfather clock. She had four brass rings engraved, each with a baby’s name and birthdate (or loss date), and each ring rests atop one of the four brass pendulums. Sometimes there may be an opportunity to memorialize a loved one through a donation. The baby’s name might be engraved on a plaque, or in the case of a friend of mine, on a brick of a new wing of a building. One can also officially purchase the right to name a star after a loved one. At holiday times or other significant dates, one may have a special candle that they light in honor of their baby. This can be especially helpful if the recently bereaved parents are at a family gathering and "the elephant is in the room". In other words, people may be hesitant to bring up the subject of the miscarriage, or the baby who died, and everyone in the room is keenly aware of NOT talking about it, particularly the grieving parents. The discomfort can grow. The parents may choose to bring a special candle to the occasion and say something like, "We are very glad to be here with you. We are also so very sad about the loss of our child. It would give us comfort to bring the memory of our child into this room with all of us by lighting this candle." If Christmas is celebrated, an ornament purchased in memory of the baby can be a great comfort. If a parent knows that something was being made for their baby, or was completed (such as a sweater or blanket), they may want to ask for that item. People often feel awkward about giving it to the parents when the baby has died. But that gift can have so much meaning because it was made for that child. I would encourage parents to ask for that item, if they know that one exists. It is important to understand that creating memories can be done at any time, not only right after the loss of the baby. Some people didn’t have the tools at the time, or couldn’t give themselves permission to acknowledge their pain. The love for that child remains, either buried deep or close to the surface. Creating memories does not prolong the pain, it comforts the soul. The job of grieving is to find the place in our heart where we carry our loved one the best. The memories serve to honor that place, to honor that child . . . the one who was lost, the one who was loved. |