A dear friend encouraged me to share this story. It's Vivian's 10 year birthday.
There are distinct moments when you become acutely aware of living out your purpose for pain. This story would never have happened had it not been for the love and brief life of our Vivian.
As I walked onto the labor and delivery unit for my day of being on call, there was a palpable chill in the air with far fewer people bustling about. I knew something wasn't right. A few minutes later a baby in an incubator wheels by being escorted by staff with long faces. A sweet family held their full term baby for the first and last time.
This was not a family in the care of our specific group but all were touched by the loss. It especially stirred in me the need to do something. It was no coincidence I was there; my heart swelled with a grief all too familiar to me.
To provide a little back story, only those in my innermost circle are aware of what it was like for my husband and I to be discharged the night after Vivian was born. This was the very unit I worked on as a labor and delivery nurse so everyone knew us. One of the worst fall out moments played out like a slow motion film as I was wheeled down the hallway to the elevator without our baby girl in our arms. Co-workers literally dodged behind walls to avoid eye contact or to cross our path. Others continued to complete their tasks as usual as if nothing had happened. Only a few offered condolences. It was a surreal, out of body experience for me. Our whole world came to an abrupt halt and even though I knew the rest of the world wouldn't stop, I sure wanted it to even for just a few moments. This scene is forever etched in my mind's eye. Please know that in hind sight, I have full grace for my co-workers at the time. You learn pretty quickly after experiencing trauma that everyone has a certain capacity. Some can be with you in grief and others just can't. Fear can also be debilitating especially the fear of saying the wrong thing, so some will say nothing. Those that "ducked" just weren't capable.
Ok, back to the story.
I saw an opportunity to honor this little life and the love this family had for their baby and knew my window was narrow. I called the lead OBGYN of the other group and asked her permission to support this family with an 'honor walk'. A little side note, there are actually many different types of honor walks, of which the one we're all most familiar with is for those donating an organ to potentially save another life. As hospital staff and family line the walls as the patient is wheeled by, they stop what they're doing to honor the life that was. It's a very beautiful thing. I had long envisioned this same 'walk' with hospital staff standing quietly holding signs with the baby's name, drawn pictures, and heart cut outs. Our way of stopping to honor the smallest of life lost.
The first words out of the OBGYN's mouth was "I think that's a terrible idea!" It was a response I wasn't expecting and shook me to the core. I explained the purpose, the thought behind it, and of course wouldn't do it without the family's permission. After much coaxing, she relented to the decision falling on the new OBGYN who was on call that morning. Turns out she thought it was a good idea and was willing to ask the family if this would be something they'd like us to do for them. They accepted. Everyone on the unit rallied! Nurses pulled paper, markers, crayons, scissors and anything else that could be used to create thoughtful signs. There was a revived energy, a purpose that was in the air. We all could do something that was potentially meaningful and also gave us an outlet for the grief we all felt. I don't recall one person not being supportive of the idea. We even called the Hospital House Supervisor to see if she wanted to come up to be a part of our honor walk.
The family was ready to leave. We all gathered on both sides of the hallway holding heart cut outs, signs with the baby's name, drawn teddy bears, and written words that said this baby will not be forgotten. It was one of the most moving moments of my life. This sweet couple stopped at each and every one of us to give a hug and expressed gratitude. Tears fell from all.
To be able to spare a family from experiencing awful on top of awful was indescribable. Now, I recognize not all families who experience baby loss would want an honor walk. It was evident on this day, this family was moved by it. I also took a peek weeks later at the Mom's facebook page; she had one of the signs that we made that day as her profile pic. It was additional confirmation that my heart needed.
The not so great fall out was in taking heat afterwards for not going through the "proper channels" to have made this more formal with Administration. We all know cutting through red tape takes time and that's what we didn't have that day. I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.
I'd love to see this type of Honor Walk become the norm for families of baby loss who would be honored by it. May the love of our Vivian keep on giving!
1Peter 5:10
And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.
2Corinthians 1:4
...The Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.
