The Condolence Coach: Alexis Marie Chute

Showing posts with label Alexis Marie Chute. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

It’s a Baby Not a Bump: Being Sensitive to Infant Death

Infant Memorials

Before I retired from funeral service, I met with and provided support to thousands of grieving families but there is one thing I didn’t do more than a few times: assist in planning a memorial for an infant. I believe the problem lies in an institutional mindset that miscarriage, preterm and newborn infant death is a medical event. It is an appalling emotional disconnect. Sure, expectant mothers utilize the expertise of medical staff and remarkable technologies but this is human life, not automobile repair.

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The words of Fawn Briggs in her guest post on the forum, WantedChosenPlanned, express the personhood of an in utero infant. In I Miss Her So Much, Fawn emphasizes the joy of a relationship that begins from the moment of pregnancy realization.

“I had been up late unable to sleep and my sweet baby girl Phoenix Quinn had been so active. I was having contractions so when my husband got up for work I asked him to stay home with me because I thought we would be meeting our baby early.”

I have learned so much by blogging and teaching as The Condolence Coach, and encourage readers to increase their sensitivity and skill in responding to different types of loss. One size does not fit all.

Death of a Child: age is irrelevant!

My lessons about what a parent feels at the death of a child began with book research; I met women who had faced tragedies and found unique peer support in organizations such as Parents of Murdered Children and Compassionate Friends. The urge to express sympathy is a beautiful part of being human but it is full of pitfalls. Saying “I know how you feel” is just one of them. Offering a rationalization--”at least you got to hold her”-- about the baby or child’s age as a formula to determine degree or duration of grief, is another one. Sheryl will never forget the knock on her front door and the message delivered by a uniformed police officer; losing her son in a car accident propelled her into Grief 101. She has never graduated from that ‘class’ but Sheryl and her husband did progress from simply receiving the support of other Compassionate Friends parents to being chapter leaders in their community.

Don't Hide the Life

I learned from Sheryl how important it is to recognize the person: use the baby or child’s name and do not hesitate to talk about him or her.

“Don’t try to protect the bereaved from their own feelings. My child’s memory will be with me forever and my emotions will be what they will.”

This concept is exactly what prompted me to reblog an essay by Alexis Marie Chute, 5 Lessons Little Kids Teach Us About Loss. A life is a life--even when the loved one is no longer present. She wrote:
“My seven and four-year-old kids bring up Zachary all the time. If someone dies, they mention Zach. If I am asked how many kids I have and I say, “Three,” I am immediately corrected. “No, Mom. You have four kids!” they say proudly. Sometimes I worry how others will respond to this behavior from my children, but then I give my head a shake. Talking about those we love, even if they have passed, should be the most normal thing in the world.”

Grief: Feel it, Don't Fix it

When I discovered and began writing about Angels Above Baby Gowns, a home-based volunteer organization supporting parents whose infant has died, I interviewed many women with infant loss stories. Through facebook, they learned how to donate a wedding gown or...they may have been fortunate to deliver in a hospital with neonatal bereavement support. I accompanied the Angels Above Baby Gowns team as they made a delivery of preciously crafted memorial gowns to a birthing center.

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We met registered nurse and bereavement counselor, Roxanne, who, for over a decade, has extended herself, often at personal expense, to make every baby’s life significant. Roxanne reminded us that 50% of all pregnancies are lost in the first three months. "One is too many," she lamented.

When a baby does not survive, Roxanne initiates steps to support the grieving parents: a simple tag is placed on the door of the mother's room to remind staff and visitors of the bereavement.
She creates a decorative certificate called a Record of Birth, honoring the birth no matter the survival outcome. And, if culturally appropriate, she will take inked impressions of the infant's hands and feet.

Angels Above Baby Gowns are frequently used during the farewell period. At this hospital, parents are invited to bathe, dress, and cradle their baby. Roxanne explained:

"This is something you can't fix. There is no timeline and we don't rush a family. After dressing a baby in a beautiful gown or wrap, we take photos. A 'bereavement gown' provides tremendous comfort to parents and later, that gown will be a special keepsake--even bearing the scent of their child. Gowns for boys are uniquely accessorized such as having a tiny bow tie.

Even though they are in shock, parents love every keepsake."

If you have personally experienced the death of an infant--or know parents who have, stay true to the wisdom you or they have earned, and gently teach others how to support families like yours because we all need to remember: it’s a baby, not a bump. Remember, too, that in many cases, expectant grandparents also grieve this baby! My post, When Grandparents Grieve has had nearly 10,000 views!

Read more posts about baby gowns:

Thank you for caring!

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

5 Lessons Little Kids Teach Us About Loss: Guest post by Alexis Marie Chute

Once again, Grief Digest Magazine, produced by Centering Corporation has inspired me with an excellent article.

What are your views and concerns about how children view death?

Do you feel youngsters should be protected from sad events?
Do you hire a babysitter when you have to attend a funeral or memorial service?
Do you tell the kids you "have somewhere to go" instead of explaining the occasion?

That's how it went in my childhood; my siblings and I did not visit a grandmother's deathbed or attend her funeral; when an uncle died in a farm tractor accident, my dad travelled alone to attend his brother's services and comfort surviving family.

These are very common responses, but Alexis Marie Chute tells a different story. When her newborn survived only one day, her whole family faced the loss. Here is her story...

Alexis Marie Chute

5 Lessons Little Kids Teach Us About Loss

by Alexis Marie Chute

I think it’s safe to say that our society does not prepare us for the death of a loved one, either in how to experience it when it is happening or in how to grieve afterward. We are taught to shelter the living from death as if it is an unfortunate reality, better ignored than embraced. Grieving individuals, and those that support them, often struggle for a vocabulary to talk about the loss and the resulting feelings. Instead we have a vernacular ripe with cliche that leaves mourners wanting and isolated, instead of comforted and encouraged.

I experienced all of this when I lost my son, Zachary, from a cardiac tumor at birth in 2010. He was minutes old. He died in my arms. That day was a stake in the road for me; I ceased to be my old naive self and began – what is called in grief literature – my “new normal.” As I look back on myself, I recognize that much of the trauma of Zachary’s death came from my childlike desire that we all will live forever and that everything will be okay. My parents did not talk to me about loss when I was little. I wish they had.

My husband, Aaron, and I have been honest with our living children about Zachary, what happened to him, how it affected us, and how we still miss him today. That discussion has opened the door for my children to think about death. Some of their responses have taught me valuable lessons.

1. Talk about the dead.

This sounds like something out of the Sixth Sense movie or the perfect set-up for being labeled the weirdo at the party. It shouldn’t be. Children are not predisposed (unless we teach them) to the negative societal taboos around loss. My seven and four-year-old kids bring up Zachary all the time. If someone dies, they mention Zach. If I am asked how many kids I have and I say, “Three,” I am immediately corrected. “No, Mom. You have four kids!” they say proudly. Sometimes I worry how others will respond to this behavior from my children, but then I give my head a shake. Talking about those we love, even if they have passed, should be the most normal thing in the world.

2. Accept death as a natural and beautiful part of life.

We have a cultural obsession with youth and beauty. This is one area, among many, where the cult of celebrity sets us up for heartache. We do not have public and prolific guidance to help us accept death as inseparable from life. I believe life and death are yin-yang, two equal parts of one complete whole. In contrast, our society has erected opposing notions of life and death as one being good and the other bad.

Children, however, when spoken to about death as a part of life, do not fear it as a scary monster to avoid, but integrate it into the fabric of their understanding. There are many natural parallels that children more innately connect with on this topic. The seasons are one example. Leaves fall from the trees each autumn and we have winter. Then new life grows again in the spring. A seed that is buried in the ground, just when we’ve nearly forgotten about it, sprouts and blossoms into a flower. In a short span of time a great grandparent passes and a new sibling birthed. This is all natural, cyclical, and connected.

3. Think about death and strive for personal understanding.

My older children used to go to a day-home while I worked. One day the woman who ran the home took a step closer to me than normal and in a hushed voice said, “I just wanted you to know, your kids were playing make-believe today and they said the baby-doll died. I made sure to tell them that they shouldn’t play like that.” Instead of being concerned, I was proud that my kids were working out their own personal understanding of our experience and what death means to them! They were doing that in the only way they knew how - through play. When I talked to them about it, I affirmed their actions and encouraged them to make-believe however they wanted. They were not distracting themselves or repressing their feelings on loss, like so many adults do, only to rack up steep therapy bills just to re-open their hearts in this expressive way.

4. Loss is a family matter, not only a solo experience.

The bonds between family are not severed because of loss. That is what my children have taught me. When my kids talk about Zachary, he “is” their brother, not past tense. We talk about how Zach lives on in our hearts. If we are discussing loneliness, my kids pipe up and say, “You are never alone because Zachary is right here,” as they point to their chests. I know they do process the loss in an individual way, we all do, but in mourning and celebrating Zach’s life, it is a family matter.

My daughter, Hannah, my seven-year-old, will draw a portrait of our family and, without prompting, include Zach in the picture. That is her solo action, but she immediately shows Aaron and me the drawing, and then hangs it from the fridge with magnets. As a family, on the anniversary of Zach’s birth, and death, we take the day off from work and school and bake a cake, go swimming, plant a tree, and just generally cuddle-up and spend quality time together. I believe because of this, the kids do not feel they carry their grief, or the weight of death, all on their own. It is a shared experience and therefore shared support and love.

5. Speaking of love… It never dies.

My kids often say, “I love my whole family! I love Mommy and Daddy, and Hannah, and Eden, and Luca, AND Zachary!” They talk about loving their unseen brother. They talk about missing him and wishing he was alive and with us. In these moments, I take a deep breath, pause from busyness, and feel my own love for Zachary and the throb of ache in missing him and the life I had hoped we would share together. Yes, my child died and that is my personal tragedy, but the love I have for him can never be taken from me. Though society uses phrases like “move on,” I choose to take the lead from my kids. Zachary is a part of us and we love him – present tense, and that is okay.

Expecting Sunshine, A Memoir by Alexis Marie Chute

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In her memoir Expecting Sunshine, A Journey of Grief, Healing, and Pregnancy After Loss, Alexis shared her journey--from pregnancy and the discovery of Zachary's in-utero condition, to the family's decision to always love him as son and brother: present tense!

Click here to learn more about the book

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Alexis Marie Chute is the author of the award-winning memoir Expecting Sunshine: A Journey of Grief, Healing and Pregnancy After Loss, available on Amazon and wherever books are sold. Alexis Marie is a writer, artist, filmmaker, public speaker, and bereavement expert. Learn more about her book and documentary, Expecting Sunshine: The Truth About Pregnancy After Loss, at www.ExpectingSunshine.com. She is a healthy-grief advocate educating others on how to heal in creative and authentic ways. You can also connect with Alexis Marie Chute on Facebook, LinkedIn Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, Tumblr, and YouTube.

RESOURCES:
Visit Alexis' bereavement blog: www.WantedChosenPlanned.com

Condolence Coach Photo

The Condolence Coach did a 5-part series on how to understand and respond to a family facing miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant death:

And remember that the grieving family includes grandparents:

When Grandparents Grieve

"Punk Bird" by Suzy St.John

A widely celebrated project for kids is the creation of a memory box. Here's how to introduce the idea: Grieving Children and the Memory Box Condolence Gift.

In this season of giving thanks, I say to all readers:

Thank you for caring!