The Forgotten Corporal Work of Mercy

My days were frantic preparing for a two-week trip to Turkey; before I left I had to have my home, kids, dog, and get everything at work prepared for my absence. I laid out extensive back-up plans at work since I am the only Perinatal Bereavement Nurse in my region.

I thought I was ready for anything until I received a call from Kara, a woman I didn’t know, but with whom I shared many mutual friends. “Tammy I know of the precious work you do and the loss you have suffered. I have prayed for you and I hoped that I would never need you, but I do”

Her dear baby had spontaneously perished in utero early in the pregnancy. She needed a D&C and she wanted to make special plans for handling the baby’s remains in a way that was consistent with their Catholic faith. She was pleased that we offered her our hospital burial program, but she and her husband had made arrangements to bury the baby at a Catholic cemetery at a Monastery.

It is legal in our state (and within our hospital policy) to release remains of babies who die before birth back to parents for private burial/private transport within the state, but the process is not well known to many of the staff members (and would perhaps be bigger than my back-up plans) and her procedure would be the day I left for Turkey. The very best outcome for Kara would be for her to take the remains with her that day, but our short time line would make the process rather complicated.

One snag could spell disaster to our plan so she and I spoke many times leading up to the procedure and we had the process carefully coordinated — even texts with her Catholic physician who would be giving directions to the OR staff while the surgery was still underway.

I met her with a big hug in the lobby of Outpatient Surgery. We reviewed our plan and she signed all the consent forms. I knew she had many friends praying for us both, which comforted and bolstered me.

The process went like clockwork with the surgical and lab staffs working together to meet the family’s need. There was a moment of panic with the nurses in the Recovery Room who had never heard of doing this before, but I walked them through the hospital policy, showed them the signed consents and the little fabric covered bundle containing the remains of the baby. I never before saw people go from fear and concern to, “Oh my gosh, it is so nice you can make this possible for them!” as quickly as they did.

During the time leading up to her procedure, Kara and I both sensed that something special was underway. She perceived that there was possibly an apostolate of caring for moms seeking to bury their unborn babies in her future and she was in an intense learning phase.

She and I spoke at length about what was “normally” done and not done at most hospitals. Catholic hospitals will often have programs for some sort of respectful disposition but most others don’t. With the goal of creating a safe place where women in this difficult situation can feel respected and begin to heal, 8 years ago, my secular hospital established a free respectful burial program (for any pregnancy loss regardless of gestational age) that has cared for 463 babies. This program is unusual though.

In her book After Miscarriage: A Catholic Woman’s Companion of Healing and Hope, Karen Edmisten speaks of Catholic mothers who suffer mightily after losses when they realize they were given no burial options, and they fear they committed a terrible sin (of not burying the baby) in the midst of their suffering and loss. She does a lovely job of handling this delicate topic. She speaks of the fact that some hospitals do a good job, but if they don’t, it isn’t the parents’ fault or responsibility and thus not a sin.

This book is really helpful for that topic and many others. As common as miscarriage is, I encourage you to have one on hand for you, a friend, or a gal at Church — whoever needs it next. Another poignant point the author makes is that in that moment of fear, confusion and grief, bereaved parents shouldn’t have to launch an investigation into hospital policies and practices of disposition, and I agree with her.

Applying this point in a practical sense, parents should be given accurate information and options. My hospital gives a letter tactfully and respectfully explaining all options. Programs can be developed through hospitals like mine or through funeral homes or cemeteries.

One common theme, however, is that each program needed a champion to push for change. The process never gets launched if everyone waits for someone else to do it. For extensive helpful details, read the comments under this article I wrote for my blog on the topic.

Kara is now working diligently to create an option for families north of the area that I serve. She and I speak regularly and I try to use my experience to help inform and direct her. I am hopeful and optimistic that her project will be fruitful and serve this profound need.

Returning to the day I helped her facilitate the burial they chose for their baby, my suitcases were already in my car and as soon as I handed them their precious bundle, and I was off to the airport.

In Turkey, I visited Mary’s House and the tomb of St. John in Ephesus as well as ancient Churches in Istanbul. But as I mentioned in my column about visiting Rome I feel closest to God when I am caring for precious little ones and their parents — even closer thant standing in an amphitheater where Paul preached — for our vocations are precious individual gifts to us from God.

May we each serve in the capacity that He created our unique selves for.

Photography: Emily Byrne