OUR PRECIOUS KATHLEEN
by Dorinda Kruger Allen

It was almost ten years ago when I was expecting the birth of my first child that everything went so suddenly wrong. My husband Mark and I had married nearly two years previously with the expectation of starting a family as soon as we could. We were thrilled when we quickly found out we were expecting and embarked on the pregnancy with hopeful anticipation.

It became a somewhat complicated pregnancy requiring more medical intervention than we had at first anticipated, but we made the adjustments that our obstetrician recommended and followed his instructions closely. It was a shock when during a routine doctor’s visit, I found myself being rushed to the hospital for an emergency cesarean section. The doctor discovered that my baby was in distress. Kathleen was born at full term, apparently healthy, beautiful, and perfect - but not breathing. She died shortly after her delivery despite all attempts to resuscitate her.

We were devastated. Nothing we experienced before could have prepared us for this. We went from picking out baby clothes to choosing a casket. Our family and friends were left trying to imagine how best to help us as we all struggled with this unexpected loss.

I don't think most people know how to cope when thrown into a situation that should be such a happy time, but instead they find themselves immersed in mourning. Our society offers little acceptance of grief in general, but the loss of an infant is one of the most unacknowledged and private losses many parents may ever face.

What then can friends and family do to help when this tragedy is visited upon someone they care about? There are actually many things that can help the parents get through this loss and some of the things I found the most helpful were these:

Tangible reminders of my daughter became very important to me. When we lose someone who has lived a full life there are "inheritances,” those physical items that link us to our loved one. For instance, I have several of my grandmother's favourite teacups and some pieces of her jewelry that I inherited when she died. These objects remind me of her and bring back fond memories. When you lose a baby, there are no such tangible reminders. I was immensely grateful to my parents who bought me a delicate silver locket that they had engraved with a little letter "K" and the words "For Always" on the back. The words had come from "The Velveteen Rabbit" from which we had read a passage at Kathleen's funeral. In those first months I wore the locket always. It has a photo of her in it and a tiny lock of her hair. This little locket helped me to feel connected to her. I also appreciated the little items that people brought to me; a porcelain rose, angel ornaments, a teddy bear. They were my precious and treasured mementos. It was important to me to have things that I could think of as Kathleen's.

Other tributes that meant a great deal to us were more public ones that would be long lasting. A family friend made a memorial contribution to the TransCanada Trail and we were able to go to the pavilion where Kathleen's name is engraved. Other people gave us plants and we created a memory garden at our home that became a living tribute to our daughter and had the side benefit of providing an outlet for some of my nurturing energy.

I appreciated so much those people who were willing and able to use Kathleen’s name. I cannot express how beautiful the sound of my daughter's name or the sight of it on a card, were to me; especially in those days when I feared her fleetingly brief life would be forgotten. Sending a card to the parents, or attending the funeral or visitation if there is one, helps to acknowledge the loss of a real and valued child.

Sometimes it is difficult for family and friends to relate to the loss of a baby if they did not have the opportunity to see the child who died. Parents who lose a baby not only lose their child, but all the hopes and dreams they had for them as well. We are attached to our children; feel love for them long before they are born, and it is this attachment that impacts our grief. However, infant loss is often regarded in society as a “replaceable" loss. One can simply have another baby. Friends and family should try to understand that even if a couple does have another baby, that child will not replace the one that was lost.

I was grateful for the people who did not intrude upon our decision to have another child. I was astounded by how many people thought it was perfectly permissible for them to ask us if we were trying to get pregnant again, often flippantly "So, are you trying again?" or "Best to get right back on the horse." Some readily offered their opinion that we should wait. The decision to have a child is an immensely personal and intimate one and should be treated as such. Friends and family need to follow a couple's lead on this issue and allow them to disclose this information or not as they choose. It is no one's business but theirs if they are trying to conceive. Parents need to be allowed to choose the people they share this information with and when.

I was thankful when people understood that it was hard for us to be around other children and babies after Kathleen died. I found that the sound of a baby’s cries quite literally made my arms ache. For my husband, it was not babies, but little girls that were hard for him to see, as he had imagined himself playing with a toddler.

Most of all, I had immense gratitude for the parents who shared our grief journey with us through the support group we joined. It was the experience of coming to a place where other people truly understood what we were going through that was the most healing for me. The ability to connect with people who were willing to share their own grief helped me to understand that the feelings I had were normal, and that the experience, though painful beyond imagining, was something I could survive.

We did survive Kathleen’s death. Kathleen remains with us, she was the child who first made us parents and who transformed the way we thought about parenting and about life. The gifts Kathleen gave to us endure, even if they were hard to receive. I think that the one thing that truly helped me in my grief was my ability to embrace the experience. As tough as grief is, if we are able to enter into it fully and work through it, we offer ourselves an opportunity for growth that comes in ways we least expect. Kathleen’s life, however short, altered the way I look at the world.

Dorinda is the Executive Director of Bereaved Families of Ontario – Midwestern Region. Dorinda came to BFO as a member following Kathleen’s death in 1997. She has also experienced the death of her brother, Darryl in 1970, her high school best friend, David in 1983 & her father, Douglas in 2002. Dorinda lives with her husband Mark, their daughter Lauren & the family’s two cats Sarah & George.

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