Empty arms

                        
I love babies. Many people do. The days our three daughters were born were probably the best days of our lives, after our wedding. Yes, even the labor part—it was exciting and adrenaline-charging and most Moms, even if they screamed through labor, are happy to tell every detail: when and where their water broke, how long they were in labor, what meds were administered, how many inches long the baby was. So I can scarcely let myself think about the emotions involved in giving birth to—and losing—an infant all in one day. It is natural to steer away from the topic of infant death, stillborn loss, or miscarriage. I’m told that women who have such tragic complications on an obstetrics ward of a hospital often find new mothers and even the staff wanting to stay away from those who’ve experienced this loss. What do you say? What do you do? Regina Harlow is one courageous woman who has experienced this terrible loss and is trying to help others—both those who have had a baby die (for whatever reason) and also those relating to grieving parents. Briefly, Regina and her husband, Lee, lost their firstborn child after a difficult pregnancy; the baby had been diagnosed as definitely having medical problems, but they were determined to go through with the pregnancy with whatever happened. Sadie Rose was born to them on June 20, 2007 (27weeks into Regina’s pregnancy) and had skeletal dysphasia, where her chest was too small to support her lungs. You can hear more of Regina’s story on the August 21 Shaping Families radio program. When Regina told me her story for the radio program, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Would she break down and cry? Would I? Three years is not a very long time to grieve such a huge loss. Why did she want to share her story? What I found was a very composed young woman who had obviously thought a great deal about what she was doing and why. She and her husband had even started an organization, the Sadie Rose Foundation, http://www.sadierosefoundation.org, to help others in similar situations. She organized a support group which meets in person or online, and is ready to stand with any Shenandoah Valley (Va.) area mother or family experiencing this grief. One of the more unusual aspects of the help their foundation offers is partnering with a frozen food delivery company, to supply up to $100 of free food for families wanting/needing such. Regina said there were many days long past the funeral when the thought of pulling an evening meal together for herself and her husband was just beyond what she felt capable of doing. Regina talked about some of the things people said that weren’t especially helpful to hear. These, of course, were all well-meaning, loving, caring people who wanted to help. But like most of us, they don’t quite know what to say. Things like, “Well, you’re young, you can have more children.” Regina countered, “No child will ever replace the child that you lost, and some people choose not to go on and have more children.” Regina and her husband do now have a son but her point is well taken. Another cliché is, “Well, they’re in a better place.” Regina said, “I know that, but I want her here; my arms are empty. I would have never understood that there is a feeling associated with empty arms, but there is. There’s an actual physical feeling of empty arms.” But the worst for Regina was if someone said “God needed her” or “God didn’t want you to deal with a child who had special needs.” “That one probably got to me more than the others,” she said. “I’m selfish enough that I would rather have her here with me physically, but I didn’t get that choice. That was something that I didn’t have any control over, so taking that pain and that sadness and trying to help others in their darkest hour has helped us heal in a lot of ways. It has helped us find purpose and meaning and it’s helped us keep her alive.” She wrote a poem about some of these things titled, Don’t Tell Me, which can be found at her blog, http://sadierosefoundation.org/blog/. One recent entry (June 9) described returning to the hospital where Sadie was born and died (50 miles away). Regina felt that facing the neonatal intensive care unit and all of the facilities was another important milestone in her journey of healing. It brought back so many heavy memories, but she was able to find the nurses who had cared for them and told them about the foundation they had started. “The drive home brought back memories of leaving without our baby girl, but it was also freeing. I had accomplished something I wasn’t sure I could ever do. I had faced my giant,” wrote Regina. She credits God with giving them the strength to keep going, at first “minute by minute.” Most of us have known someone who experienced miscarriage or lost a small child. I hope some of Regina’s thoughts and tips—and her efforts spreading good news about healing—will help others as well. For a free 80-page book, Meditations for the Grieving, by Richard L. Morgan, for a number of grief situations, write to Another Way, Box 22, Harrisonburg, VA 22803 or e-mail melodied@thirdwaymedia.org (Include the name of your paper in your response.) You can also visit Another Way on the Web at http://www.thirdway.com.


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