Sudden Death - Christianity Today

Ann was ecstatic to learn she was pregnant again. For nine months she carried her child, experiencing all the various stages of her baby’s growth and development.

Late in her ninth month, she went into labor, and her husband rushed her to the hospital. The couple was sent directly into the delivery room. Their physician estimated that the baby would arrive in less than an hour.

Shortly after his announcement, the fetal heart monitor around Ann’s abdomen abruptly stopped.

“Suddenly, the entire atmosphere was charged with tension and anxiety,” her husband later recalled. “I was rushed out as nurses and doctors rushed in.” An emergency Caesarean section was performed, but despite the best efforts of the medical professionals, the baby was stillborn.

In shock, the father called me; I was their minister. I will never forget the moment I walked into their hospital room and saw Ann holding her child, a perfectly developed little girl.

“She was strangled by her own umbilical cord,” Ann told me, tears streaming down her face.

Ann’s pain, unfortunately, is not rare. Statistics indicate there is one still birth (defined as the death of a fetus between the twentieth week of pregnancy and birth) for every eighty live births. Often the cause of death is unknown.

Whenever a baby is born dead, nothing feels real except the pain. Here are suggestions for pastors helping those who have experienced stillbirth.

ENCOURAGE THEM TO SEE THE BABY

While this is a decision each parent must make, those who have held and viewed their child found it to be therapeutic. Here is one mother’s expression:

“My husband said we had a girl and she was truly beautiful. He encouraged me to see her and offered to bring our baby into the room. She was all wrapped up in a blanket like any other baby. He placed her into my arms, and I touched her. She was both beautiful and perfect. I’m glad I saw her and held her. That moment formed some closure for me.”

University of Nebraska professor John DeFrain has spent ten years researching how families cope with the death of an infant. In his recent book, Stillborn: The Invisible Death, he states, “We asked the parents in our study if they saw their baby, and slightly more than half had. Every one of these parents was very glad to have done so. Most of the parents who had not seen the baby wished they had.”

HOLD A FUNERAL SERVICE

Many couples request a funeral service. Often these are small, private rites attended only by family and close friends.

A funeral service brings the family’s grief out into the open and facilitates support from others. It also recognizes the baby as an individual who had a life and was part of a family.

Sharon, whose baby died in her eighth month of pregnancy, says the funeral ritual was “extremely” important.

“We called our minister,” she said, “and asked for a simple graveside service. He admitted he had never done a funeral for a stillborn, but readily agreed. The day itself was beautiful–bright and sunny. We were surrounded by our parents, extended family, close friends, as well as our pastor.

“Although I cried through much of the ceremony, I felt much, much better for the tears and for the service. When it was over every person there reached out and embraced me tightly. As strange as it may seem, I felt a lot of hope. As a result, I encourage anyone who has a stillbirth to have a memorial service of some kind.”

LET PARENTS TALK

Allowing parents to talk about their child is critical for a healthy adjustment to stillbirth. Here is one woman’s tribute to her supportive pastor after she lost a baby:

“Talking was the only way I could deal with my anguish. Thank God for my pastor who allowed me to talk and talk and talk. He must have found me extremely repetitious, yet he never stopped me or judged me for anything I said or felt. Talking and sharing my feelings was profoundly therapeutic. It seemed that every time I told my story a little bit of pain was peeled away.”

Often, those who flounder for years after a stillbirth have failed to acknowledge or express the powerful emotions connected to the death of a child. One woman’s pain lasted for more than two decades and did not subside until she found a sympathetic listener.

“Twenty-three years have passed since I lost my baby,” she said. “Until last year, I was not free to even discuss my little boy. My salvation came through a new neighbor who had gone through an identical experience. She initiated the conversation without knowing what I had been through. Finally, after all those years I am able to talk and receive some comfort.”

RECOMMEND ACTIVITY

For many people, activity is an excellent coping device. A consistent theme I hear from the bereaved in my support groups is, “Keeping busy really helps me.” Getting involved in a job or a project is a gentle way of forcing oneself back into the mainstream of life. This was true for Ellen, the mother of one school-aged child. When she became pregnant with her second child, she quit her job on a doctor’s recommendation. Unfortunately, her baby died in the seventh month.

“A good friend, who is also a therapist,” she said, “urged me to get a job since my other child was in school all day. I followed her advice and got a sales position in a retail store. That entry-level, minimum-wage job became my lifeline. It forced me to have a schedule, to get up and get dressed every day. That simple job took the edge off my depression and allowed me to begin recovery sooner.”

PROVIDE SUPPORT FOR DAD

Too often the father is the forgotten or silent partner in grief. Because the woman carries the child, she receives most of the support. Yet, the lost child has two parents. David and Martha were expecting twins. One was stillborn–the other died within two hours of birth.

Over the next few months, family and friends would often ask David, “How is Martha doing?” Confiding in his pastor he said: “No one seems to be aware of my pain. I am feeling more isolated with my feelings because people don’t think I feel any loss or grief over this.”

Expressing grief is hard for many men. As odd as it sounds, some men need “permission” to mourn. Permission may be granted by saying simple statements such as “It’s okay to cry,” “It’s natural to feel depressed after a loss like yours,” and “I don’t blame you for feeling angry.”

It is also helpful to remind men that emotions are universal and normal, not particularly feminine.

SUGGEST RESOURCES

Each person grieves differently. There are no clear turning points or predetermined deadlines. Fortunately, we are created to recover and heal. One man states it this way:

“While we still have many bad days, both of us have an occasional good day. It has now been eleven months since we lost Danny. As the time passes we seem to be doing better and are now just beginning to look more optimistically toward the future.”

Some parents, though, may experience long-term denial, constant and repressive depression, ongoing sleep and eating problems, intense feelings of anger, guilt, blame, and worthlessness.

These signal that a parent needs more care than a pastor can normally provide. An inexpensive and effective way for them to receive that help is to join a support group. Those who have experienced a stillbirth have found it beneficial to talk with others who have lost a baby.

“I never will be able to take my son to a ballgame or playground,” said one mother, “but I can take him and my memories to my support group. There I can talk and cry and share broken dreams openly. There no one would ever interrupt me and say: `Don’t you think you should be over this by now!’ Those who have lost a baby understand in a way others cannot.”

PROVIDE SPIRITUAL AFFIRMATION

The death of a child is a profoundly painful theological issue. One mother, whose child died during labor, asked me: “My little daughter didn’t have a chance at life. No one will ever know her. She was so small, so vulnerable. Does God know or care about my daughter?”

Her comments were a twentieth-century version of the ancient psalmist’s refrain: “What is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?” (Psalm 8:4).

This verse helped her understand she was not alone in questioning whether God sees and cares. Then she and I were able to talk about the certainty of God’s love, loyalty, and concern for her and her stillborn daughter.

Writer Susie Blackmun’s first child died during labor. The baby had anencephaly, a defect in which the brain does not form properly.

She writes, “Losing a child has to be the purest form of hell that exists for a parent, yet I would rather have been pregnant with Julia and lost her than never to have carried her at all. She made her own mark in my life and in the lives of my family and friends. During her brief foray into the world, my first daughter contributed more than most people give in a lifetime. I am proud to be her mother.”

No matter how deep the hurts, the human spirit has a tremendous capacity for healing.

************************

Victor Parachin is a grief counselor and ordained minister living in Claremont, California.

lecurrmrj5L41175A2g