Miscarriages, still born births, loss of children, it’s all so incredibly hard on parents. When I had a miscarriage I learned they were not uncommon. Knowing this didn’t make it any easier. My sister, Judy, had a baby at 5 and ½ months into her pregnancy over 25 years ago. The baby was stillborn. She named her baby and had to bury her. My daughter was in the first grade at the time. She knew how sad Judy was over this loss. She told Sister Ellen Therese, her first grade teacher, how sad we were for my sister. Sister explained to the children in the class that when a child dies, Mother Mary is there to greet them until their own parents can come join them. My daughter is an adult with a daughter of her own. I can’t help but think that this was such a valuable lesson taught to her in the first grade and would carry with her into her adulthood.
I recently read a blog of parents who have lost children from suicide. Most of these children were in their teens and they were suffering from depression for a variety of reasons. You try to help your children when you know they are suffering or in pain. Many times their hurt is so deep, you can’t help. Many times you don’t even know they are hurting because they are masking their depression, that is, until it’s too late.
My own mother had nine children, but also had three miscarriages. Knowing her, she must have felt the loss of those miscarriages very deeply.
I have a close friend who lost his son in a car accident when he was 16. It was devastating for their family. A day never goes by when they don’t think of their son. For years they tried to meet with mediums; anyone that could possibly connect them to their child. I learned after talking with him, losing a child for a parent is like losing a limb. You live with so much hurt and guilt that you couldn’t have stopped whatever that caused their death from happening. You never fully get over their loss.
One Sunday morning, I arrived for Mass at 8:30 and noticed there were pictures of a small boy and his family placed around and on the altar. I looked around and there was a very tearful family close by. There were many people in the parish attending this Mass. I started to leave and ran into a close friend who was there. Several years before this, she had lost her daughter at the age of 18 from a misdiagnosed appendix attack. “I’m so glad you’re here”, she said. I looked at her with a puzzled expression. “What happened? I didn’t realize this was going to be a memorial Mass. I should leave since I don’t know the family.” She said, “I’m sure they could use your prayers so why don’t you stay.” It was a beautiful Mass for a six year old boy who died suddenly from meningitis four days earlier. He was a normal healthy child and then died instantly from his illness. Even though I truly felt sad for the family, I couldn’t help but feel a little like I was intruding. After the Mass ended, my friend who encouraged me to stay introduced me to the mother of the child who had died. I expressed my condolences to her and hugged her. Her words to me, “If only I knew he was going to be ok.” That’s when I knew. That’s when I decided to tell her the story of my mother, Dorothy.
My mother had a near death experience the year before. She literally died and was brought back to life. She shared her story when I was visiting the summer before. She explained that being with God and the saints and angels was like nothing she had ever felt. She was 80 years old at the time. “I felt no pain. I was able to dance and jump and I felt like I was 20. I saw my parents. They were so happy. Mostly, I was surrounded by so much love. This love came from God. Imagine the most amazing moment you have ever felt in your life. Multiply that by one billion, and you still don’t come close to feeling what it’s like being in the presence of perfect love, God and his son, Jesus.” The mother of the young boy got tears in her eyes when I told her about what my mother had said. I then finished telling this mother what Sister Ellen Therese said to my daughter in the first grade. That too was a comfort to her.
Before I left she hugged me. “Thank you so much for telling me this story. You can’t know how much this meant to me.” I now know why I was drawn to attend this Mass. I also know that all answers to life’s hard moments will be made known when we are with God. I will continue to pray for people who have lost a child. I do believe their children are with God. Quoting Sister, “Mother Mary will stay with all the children until their own parents can join them.” I believe in my heart that she was right and this is true!
Catherine Mendenhall-Baugh (Cathy) completed her education at the University of Nebraska majoring in Special Education and minoring in English Literature and now works in the insurance industry. A mother and a grandmother, Cathy grew up in a large Catholic family and as spent the last 30 years as a caregiver for her husband, Jack. A writer for Tuscany Press, she is also working on several longer writing projects.
