Invisible Parents, the Sequel

There is a parental child benefit that all parents in Newfoundland receive upon the birth of their child. It also applies to parents whose child was stillborn. To be honest, I wasn't sure at first that I wanted it. I felt a little sleazy collecting money when my daughter had died and I didn't have any child-related costs. But I realized quickly that funerals and headstones and all of those things cost money, and they are not covered in any way when your child is stillborn (my insurance booklet very "tactfully" says that my coverage for a dependent's life insurance is only for children "from live birth"). So every expense has been out of pocket. (It turned out that, thanks to the generosity of our friends, family, and coworkers, we were able to cover all expenses without going into debt.)

Filling out the application was emotional for me. You have to tick a box saying that your child was stillborn, and the form asks for the child's name, but it is "not required if you are applying as a result of a stillbirth." I felt like the form was screaming, "YOUR BABY IS DEAD AND SHE DOESN'T MATTER AS MUCH AS OTHER BABIES!" For the rest of our lives, we will have to fight for the legitimacy of our parenthood to our daughter. The fact is that many won't view her as a person and will not think our grief and acknowledgement of her as our daughter is justified. So...I filled her name out anyway. Small victories.

We completed the application and mailed it in with all relevant information and additional forms, only to receive a letter in the mail saying that our application could not be processed because we needed to include a stillbirth registration letter. What? No one told us that we needed one or how to get it, and the application form did not mention it. Stillborn babies don't get birth or death certificates. All I had was a letter from the funeral home confirming that they held a service for Haven. So I had to call that office back to find out what they needed and how to get it, then I had to call Vital Statistics in order to request it.

When I asked why I hadn't been told anything about it, the lady said, "well, I think because it's a hard thing to talk about with parents." I said, "well, it's a whole lot easier than putting parents through this process!" Having to rehash our story with strangers over the phone is one of the most stressful and painful things that I have had to do, and it's something I have had to do more often than you might think. Honestly, I don't give two craps how uncomfortable our situation is for someone else to deal with. They aren't the ones who lost their only child, so they can, quite frankly, suck it up.

This pissed me off, but I restrained myself. After all, it wasn't that lady's fault that the system is broken.

At least there is a happy ending to this story. Or there will be. A local blogger who lost her daughter in a similar way to us (Being Everlee's Mom) contacted the government about this issue and they are now working on a way to streamline the process to spare parents from having to jump through hoops in order to have their children recognized. I know that a lot of families will benefit from such a change. I guess it's just one change at a time, one courageous parent's voice at a time, that will make stillbirth and parents of stillborn babies visible.

Invisible Parents

I am still surprised every time something happens to remind me of just how invisible we are as parents of a stillborn baby. I found out recently that a Public Health Nurse is supposed to visit all new moms at least two or three times, not only to make sure the baby is thriving and feeding, etc., but to make sure the mom is coping alright with all of the post-birth hormones, and specifically to make sure she is not slipping into postpartum depression. But for me, and for so many other moms like me, there was no phone call. No visit.

I thought at first that I must have missed the call or there was some mistake, but when I mentioned it to my therapist, she confirmed that it is not standard practice to check up on bereaved moms. She thought maybe it was because the hospital recommends therapy to the parents, or they might assume that a parent wanting support will contact someone for support. The problem is, when you are the parent of a stillborn baby, it is agonizing to make calls for any reason that requires you to talk about your loss. Believe me, after four calls to EI, I never wanted to use the phone again.

I think it is a poor excuse to say that no one really knows how to handle this kind of loss. Doesn't the medical community owe it to bereaved mothers to give them the same support that everyone else gets? Particularly because mothers of stillborn babies are at a much higher risk for postpartum depression, PTSD, anxiety, etc.

Dr. Ruta Nonacs, discussing miscarriage in her book A Deeper Shade of Blue, says "Experiencing a stillbirth or neonatal death probably puts you at an even higher risk for depression; one study indicated that a mother's risk for depression after stillbirth is about seven times higher than a woman who has a live birth." And another study (click here) confirms that link.

So why are we ignored?

My husband and I have a large network of friends and family who have supported us through this tragedy, but so many other couples don't have that. Even I, with all of the support and understanding that I have been gifted with, feel let down.

I hope that parents like us continue to speak out about their experiences and let the medical community know that we should not be ignored. We are still moms and dads, and we still need support. That is why I plan to contact Eastern Health about our experience. I will update here about any responses I receive.