Supportive Voice  Vol. 9  No. 3   Summer 2003

by Kathryn Anne 

Ms. Anne has a master's in Spiritual Traditions & Ethics and is a NACC certified hospice chaplain with Providence Health System, Portland, OR.

Over 33 years ago, I lost my first child through a miscarriage. My baby's name was Matthew. Recently I learned that Matthew's name means "gift from God."

Matthew's death was painful in many ways, and the loss has had a profound effect on my life. I had been a nun for six years. The decision to leave the convent took two years. I left because I longed to have children.

After leaving the convent, I married and became pregnant with Matthew. I remember crying when I realized we were going to lose our baby. The doctor told me not to cry, saying, "Your crying could upset your husband." I had only been out of the convent for two years and was still in the habit of listening to voices of authority. As a result, I shut down on my grieving process. My husband did his best to support me, while I did my best to support him, which meant that we didn't talk about our loss. I experienced a profound sense of abandonment by God.

This sense of abandonment by God led me on a spiritual journey, which turned my world upside down. I questioned everything. I never stopped believing in God, but I felt the struggle to find an authentic path for me. I appeared peaceful on the outside, but always there was this continued searching going on.

My husband and I were later blessed with two children, a daughter and a son. They brought back my deep sense of gratitude. I love them more than I could ever have imagined, and they, too, have been my teachers.

I finally allowed my internal grief to begin to surface after 15 years. I found that the most painful aspects of that grief were that I did not know or question where Matthew's body went. Of course, at the time, there was not any encouragement for me to find out. That was 33 years ago, when everyone was encouraged to "just forget" the loss and get on with life. Still I wondered, Where did my baby go?

My spiritual journey led me back to some of the same places where I had begun. Eventually, I became the chaplain in the maternity unit. The loss of Matthew so many years ago took on new meaning. It was Matthew who helped me to ask the hard questions once again. I asked where the bodies of the babies who have died are taken when they leave the maternity unit.

My search led me to the hospital pathology department. There, the babies must undergo a procedure to make sure none of their remains are left in the uterus, which could be dangerous to the mother. After this testing, the babies go to another area in pathology for at least a month, in case the parents would like to have them studied further to determine the cause of death. Parents also may want to be provided information that might increase chances of a successful pregnancy in the future. The babies' bodies are stored in small containers until picked up to be buried in a common grave.

Creating sacred space: a labor of love by many
Although I still didn't know exactly what happened to Matthew so many years ago, it seemed important to create a sacred space for our babies who are significantly pre-term at birth and death. I began to imagine beautiful containers for the babies and a space that let everyone know our precious babies were there. The head of the pathology department was very helpful and supportive of my ideas.

I then connected with a woman named Pat Schweibert, founder of Grief Watch and Perinatal Loss (www.tearsoup.com). Grief Watch is the umbrella organization containing Brief Encounter and Perinatal Loss. Brief Encounter is a support group for parents who have lost their babies during pregnancy or after birth.

Together, we continued to create the vision and began working on making it a reality. With the encouragement of Jane Wilson, the director of the maternity unit, we made decisions. We decided to use the original containers the babies were placed in on the maternity unit. The parents from the Brief Encounter support group made beautiful cloth bags for the containers to rest in. Another member of the support group also made two lovely wooden boxes for the babies in their containers to rest in pathology. There is an inscription on the boxes that reads: For Brief Encounters . . . In memory of futures only imagined.

When the babies are picked up from pathology, they are taken to Mt. Calvary Cemetery. This Catholic cemetery has made a commitment to provide a common burial site for the babies. The cemetery offers the chapel for a memorial service and burial at no expense to families. With our new plan, families will know exactly where their child is. The director of the cemetery has been very helpful in supporting us with our plan.

Unlike my experience with Matthew, we will have a process which honors the babies and provides families spiritual support and the closure so greatly needed.

We have created a sacred space within our pathology department so all can remember and honor these dear babies. We have also created rituals after the baby has been born. These rituals include bathing the baby in lavender water, putting the babies in tiny gowns made by a wonderful woman in the community (if they are old enough), blessing of the baby with lavender lotion, and blessings for the family and friends. We give the baby and the mother a heart-within-a-heart necklace. The inside heart is for the baby, and the outside heart for the mother. The father and other family members receive hearts also. These hearts are symbols of their ongoing connection with the baby. We also give families supportive literature. The heart-within-a-heart necklace, hearts, and the literature come from Schweibert's groups, Grief Watch and Perinatal Loss.

You have been an inspiration, Matthew. Thank you for your brief, but precious, life on earth, and in my heart and spirit as well. You are a gift from God to me and to many others as well.