How do you comfort a woman who lost someone that she never got to meet? There were no memories to reflect on. No belongings with a familiar smell, no favorite t-shirt, no words to live by. No weird stories that she’d heard at every Thanksgiving dinner since childhood. Just an empty nursery to return home to after what was probably the longest day of her life.
In mortuary school, you learn how to embalm, how to suture, how to make arrangements and what kinds of caskets families can buy. No one teaches you how to take a baby from a mother and then to a funeral home. No one tells you what to say to a mother when you take her baby away from her for the last time. It’s a topic that most people are not comfortable discussing or (thankfully) don’t have much experience with to share.
When I was an intern, I learned quickly that it doesn’t matter how experienced you are — it doesn’t get any easier and no one knows what the ‘right’ thing to say is. I was so nervous walking up to that hospital room. What would I say? How could I look this woman in the eyes knowing I had absolutely no idea what she was going through? Would she hate me for coming to take her baby from her?
All of my questions and concerns dissipated quickly when I stepped into the room and saw her still rocking the baby. The baby was tiny and swaddled and the mother was calm. I nervously introduced myself and so did the mother. We were about the same age and my stomach dropped when I realized I’d have to take that baby directly out of her arms. I explained what would happen and asked her what time she wanted to come to make arrangements. She rocked the baby during the entire conversation.
My boss back at the funeral home had sent me with a “baby carrying bag” that was used to bring infants back from hospitals and morgues. I was sick thinking about putting this woman’s baby into the bag but at the time, I didn’t have another option. Finally, after thoroughly explaining everything to the mother, it was time to take the baby into my care. I remember saying, “Your baby is safe with me” a few times to her and she handed me her child without me having to ask. I could barely keep my composure when I placed the baby into the carrying bag, but I zipped the bag up and went back to the funeral home to prepare for the arrangements.
I met with the mother and father and made arrangements for a memorial service that turned out to be very beautiful. I planned for a dove release, and we had a sunny day to remember the baby on. I worked with a pastor to help write the service, and I made sure the family had everything they needed to grieve properly. The pastor and I did the service together, and we were able to release the doves on an overlook on the Huron River in southeastern Michigan before placing the baby’s urn in a niche.
That situation taught me a lot of things, and since then, I’ve made arrangements for many families who have lost children and infants, and I’ve gotten a lot better at the technicalities. I want to take this opportunity to share some of the tangible things.
Invest in a Moses basket. The last thing you want to do in front of a grieving mother is place her baby in a bag or, worse, on a cot that’s made for an adult. A Moses basket is simply a wicker-carrying basket for a baby. You can place a blanket on top of the baby when you’re carrying him or her out or invest in a Moses basket that closes. If you ever need to bring a child into your care from a hospital room, you’ll be grateful that you have the basket. Placing someone’s child into a bag that looks like it’s been sitting in a closet since the 1980s is unacceptable, and we need to do better for our families.
Bring a small bouquet of flowers if you’re doing a transfer for a baby from the hospital room. This gives the mother something to hold after you take the baby from her. Explain everything thoroughly — the mother wants to know exactly what is going to happen to her child once you leave that hospital room. Be gentle but be honest and be careful to use terminology the family will understand. Also, be realistic about expectations for visitations and viewing options.
Encourage families to bring sentimental items to keep with the baby throughout the visitation and the burial or cremation. Ask the parents if they have any toys or books they’d like to keep with the baby. Make sure to specify whether those items will be going home with mom and dad or staying with the baby throughout the disposition process. Any personalization goes a long way. Ask about songs they listened to with the baby or during the pregnancy, favorite colors or anything else special. If they bring up the color pink, ask your colleagues to dress in pink on the day of the service. Play the song mentioned by the family during the service. The ‘little things’ go a long way. Consider the way you set up the visitation; maybe instead of a tribute DVD playing, you play the baby’s favorite show or movie. You can even discuss using your Moses basket for the baby during the visitation.
A few more tips that I want to share — don’t cut baby clothing. Parents and family are often inclined to pick up the baby and carry him or her around. Take the baby’s handprints and footprints (with permission). Get in touch with local organizations that specialize in dealing with the loss of infants and stillbirths. I worked with a wonderful organization that put together boxes for grieving mothers with some self-care items as well as some memorial gifts. Other organizations provide burial gowns for babies; some are even made from recycled wedding dresses. Last, make sure you have a contact within an organization that helps parents to process this type of grief. Over the years, many mothers have shared with me how disappointing the lack of resources was for them when they were experiencing the loss of their child.
My last piece of advice leads me to the end of my story. When the mother came to pick up the register book and extra prayer cards from her baby’s service, I walked her out to her car. She thanked me several times before saying, “Thank you for calling my baby a baby.” I, obviously confused, asked her what she’d meant by that. She shared with me that she’d called several funeral homes prior to getting in contact with me. All of the funeral homes she’d previously spoken with had referred to her child as “the fetus.” Two little words, eight letters, that was the deciding factor for her in choosing which funeral home she wanted to care for her child. Two words that I’ll never forget, and I know she won’t either. We, as an industry, have to do better for these women.
Months later, I received an envelope in the mail at the funeral home from the mother of this particular baby. It was a typed note, mostly thanking me for my services and updating me on how she and her family were doing. The last paragraph of this letter changed my life and made me realize I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
“You were the last person on earth to touch my child, and I was comfortable knowing that she was in good hands.”
The gravity of that statement will stay with me forever. It’s easy to get caught up in the day-to-day operations in our field and in any field for that matter. We have to remember the power we hold on the good days, the bad days and the really stressful days that have us on the verge of tears behind the wheel of a hearse. We are the conduit that takes families through the journey from presence to memory. I can’t stress to you enough how important that job is. Cases that require less paperwork, particularly in the case of a fetal death, may seem easier, but they’re absolutely not. We, as funeral directors, need to make sure we are meeting the needs of families and helping them to navigate their grief journey.
I hope sharing this story inspires a few new ideas around your funeral home. Just remember, it’s often those “little things” that become the big things for a mother who has just lost her child.
Two words can change everything.
