On pregnancy and infant loss, the courage to remember, and the compassion we can offer to those who grieve.
Today, 15 October, is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, a day when mothers, fathers and families around the world take time to remember their little ones – babies they lost during pregnancy, babies who were born without life, and babies who lived for a time after birth before they died.
The whole month of October is dedicated to raising awareness of pregnancy and infant loss, helping to bring visibility to an experience that is so often dismissed or left unspoken in a society that struggles to face loss and death.
I often come across young parents whose dreams that didn’t materialise in the way they hoped are then left with nowhere and no-one with whom to share their disappointments or talk about their loss.
Thus, a month set aside to bring more awareness of death in pregnancy, in birth or in the early days, weeks or months of a young soul’s existence on earth, is an important move.
My personal experience was to not give any importance at all for a pregnancy that didn’t progress beyond the first weeks or months. It didn’t feel that I could make a big deal out of it as it wasn’t “real” enough to claim its space as a lived experience. It was the first time I heard the expression “ghost pregnancy” and I did often wonder whether I had imagined it.
When I recall that period of my life, all I can remember is the enormous stress I felt which I put down to the job I had at the time. How dismissive I was to my own dreams! It took a death cafe many years later when another woman – with a shared experience – expressed herself for the first time as to what had happened to her. Finally, I was able to acknowledge that yes, the pregnancy was… and then it wasn’t. I often wonder whether it was the daughter I had always dreamed I’d have.
To acknowledge and learn from real and lived experiences therefore is a positive step forward. While nothing will remove the pain that mothers and fathers live through from such a loss, the support groups being formed, along with the actions shown by the professionals in acknowledging such an experience are very welcome.
I recently saw the documentary “Una Estrella Fugaz” based on the personal and lived experience of Ignacio Guerrero and his wife Agata. Their baby Pep was born with health challenges which meant that he was taken, upon birth, to the ICU, where he lived for some months and where he had multiple operations. This was where he was loved, not only by his parents, sibling and the extended family, but by his nurses too.
The film – to me – was a journey of love, understanding, acceptance and so much more. Much stood out to me, certainly the positive impact a professional can have on such a situation. The scientific knowledge our medical professionals have is immense, and if this can be shared clearly and in simple terms, it can help parents navigate the complications as they arise.
The love and care shown by the nurses in the ICU at the Sant Joan de Deu Hospital in Barcelona is the sweetest and most beautiful part of the film to witness. I bow before these professionals who, day after day, willingly put their feelings on the line as they attend to their tiny patients with nothing but love. I also am a huge fan of SJD as they are one of the few hospitals that has a “spiritual agent” available for everyone who is part of the hospital community, not only patients and families but for staff there too.
There’s still lots to do on educating ourselves about what the reality of pregnancy and infant loss means to families living through such a moment. The most wonderful result of lived experiences is the willingness of others to share the wisdom gained from sharing their pain.
Such a group that offers support here in Mallorca is Estels del Cel, born out of personal loss and run with love and compassion deserves a mention. They are my local heroes, and the simple acts of kindness they provide – which I have witnessed – bring so much tenderness at such a challenging time.
They offer support groups, workshops and they also gather to sew little shrouds for those babies that don’t make it. As I was present for the funeral of a five month foetus who had a name, to see that piece of material so lovingly hand-sewn by woman who understand was beautiful.
Today, as mothers, fathers, parents all over the world remember their baby, I also hold myself gently and think about that little baby who never took her breath with me.
