Too-Brief Lives

Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn’t shy away from me.

I need you now more than ever.

--Diane Collins in “A Bereaved Parent’s Wish List”

*

Kathy Messner recalled her confusion on Mother’s Day 1995. It had been two months since the deaths of her twins--Kyle, who died at birth, and Brian, who died nine days later--and she wondered if this day was also meant for her.

“Am I a mother, or aren’t I a mother? I was a mother for a little while,” she remembers thinking.

Messner hoped she would be recognized as a mother by friends and family, “because ignoring it would be the same as saying that my boys never existed, and that would be painful.”

Messner, who lives in Brea, was depressed and confused at the time. She and her husband, Jay, had had trouble conceiving, and this made the pain of losing the babies more excruciating.

The couple began attending meetings at Healing Hearts, an Orange-based self-help group that since 1989 has helped more than 200 bereaved families cope with a pregnancy loss or death of a newborn or young child. Slowly, Kathy Messner began to find answers to the many questions she had about her children’s deaths.

To her surprise, she learned that other grieving parents at the meetings were asking the same questions.

“We try to find meaning in our children’s brief lives. We try to squeeze as much meaning and good out of their very short lives,” Messner said.

She started out as a participant at the parent-to-parent sessions, but today Messner, 37, is one of five facilitators who assist other parents groping for answers about their loss.

Messner and two other facilitators gathered recently to discuss their experiences and the assistance offered by Healing Hearts, a nonprofit group founded nine years ago by Patty Witte, who lost two children, Todd and Keri.

Witte is not affiliated with the group anymore, but members still meet at Children’s Hospital of Orange County on the second and fourth Wednesday of each month. None of the facilitators are therapists or professionally trained.

“The experience of losing a child is what qualifies us to offer advice. That’s our only qualification,” said Lynn Pirnat-Haughton, of Fullerton, whose daughter, Sarah Nicole, died in October 1994, two months after birth, of a heart defect and Down syndrome.

For some parents, attending the meetings at CHOC is a triumph in itself, because many of them saw their babies die there. Others find it impossible to heal at the place where their children succumbed. They attend one meeting and never return.

Kristen Mason, a Placentia resident who lost her 6-month-old son, David, in April 1995 to a heart defect and Down syndrome, said that each parent grieves differently, and there is “no magic number” of sessions that one must attend before the healing process begins.

“Some continue to attend for months or years. Others attend only through the initial period of grief, or until they get pregnant again and their lives change,” said Mason, 40, who has three young children.

The most common question asked at the sessions by newly grieving parents is “When should I get pregnant again?” Messner said.

“There is no right answer. We don’t give them advice; instead, we ask other couples who struggled with that dilemma to talk about their experience. Hopefully, someone else’s experience can help provide an answer to that question,” Messner said.

Messner and the other facilitators acknowledged that the meetings can be depressing.

Jonathan Nagel said that he found the first meeting he attended so gut-wrenching that he debated whether he should continue going. Nagel, 33, and his wife, Ruth, 32, lost their 6-week-old son, Matthew, in December 1997. Matthew died of congenital heart disease.

“It was too painful hearing people tell their stories of grief,” said Jonathan Nagel. “But after that, the meetings gave me a sense of peace, knowing that others have gone through this sad experience.”

Ruth Nagel said the sessions have helped her endure innocent, but painful, questions that people sometimes ask, such as “How many kids do you have?” The Nagels, who live in Cypress, have two daughters, ages 3 and 5.

“I still have a hard time answering that question,” Ruth Nagel said. “But I want people to ask me about Matthew. I want to talk about him. I want to wear a T-shirt that says, ‘My baby just died. Ask me about him.’ ”

Grieving parents wait an average of four weeks before seeking help at Healing Hearts or at similar groups. That is about the time when the sympathy cards stop arriving and the telephone calls and visits from friends and family end.

“Society is telling you that you should be over it now, to move on with your life,” Messner said. “But you’re still grieving. We provide a safe haven for people to come in to talk about their babies and mention their names.”

Many people find it difficult to express their sympathy to a parent who has lost a child. Awkward expressions of condolence, although well-meaning, can sometimes pierce a bereaved parent’s heart.

“ ‘It was for the best,’ or ‘It’s better that she’s not suffering.’ ‘You can always have more children.’ These comments are painful, and I don’t want to hear them,” said Pirnat-Haughton, 39, and mother of two young children.

Other times, not saying anything hurts even more.

“This big thing happened in my life, and you’re not going to acknowledge it because you’re too embarrassed or afraid you’re going to make me cry?” said Mason, who with her husband is in the process of adopting a 2-year-old son. “I’d rather hear you mention my child’s name than ignore he ever existed.”

Ryan Barr died on his third birthday, in January 1995, of a bacterial blood infection. Although dead for three years, Ryan has a role in Michelle and Mark Barr’s life.

“Ryan is still a member of our family,” said Michelle Barr, who lives in Lake Forest. “We have his pictures throughout the house and have him so integrated into our lives. We’re always telling Kevin [the couple’s surviving son], ‘That’s your big brother.’ The pain I had when I lost Ryan has been replaced with so many precious memories.”

Michelle said that Mother’s Day will be bittersweet. The Barrs, both 41, say Kevin, who was born 16 months ago, was born four months prematurely, has cerebral palsy and will probably be disabled for life.

“It’s strange. God took away a healthy baby and gave us another with special needs. I don’t know what this means, but Mark and I are prepared to devote our lives to Kevin,” she said.

Michelle Barr said she has known anger and bewilderment when trying to sort out the hand that life has dealt her.

Pirnat-Haughton said those feelings are common among bereaved parents.

“You ask yourself, ‘If I had done things different, would she still be alive?’ The guilt can be very intense at the beginning,” Pirnat-Haughton said.

She said the feeling of being punished is also a common emotion.

“I felt that way. I thought I had done something wrong in my younger life,” Pirnat-Haughton said. “Then I thought, ‘There’s more people who have done worse things than me, and they’re not going through this.’ ”

Sometimes, even isolated moments of laughing can also elicit guilt feelings in bereaved parents. Stacy Smith, a single parent whose son, Noah, died soon after birth in February 1996 from a chromosome defect, said that it took her a long time to begin laughing again after Noah’s death.

“For about a year, I felt guilty whenever I laughed,” said Smith, 27. “I’d wonder, ‘Why am I laughing? My baby died.’ ”

For Smith, who is a participant, the friends she made at Healing Hearts provided most of the support she received during her bereavement. When she learned during her pregnancy that Noah’s chromosome defect meant that he probably was not going to live long after birth, she had the option to terminate the pregnancy.

“So many people were telling me to get rid of the baby. But I was not going to take this baby’s life before God did,” said Smith, an Orange resident.

Friends and families are not the only ones capable of delivering pain to a grieving parent. Many times doctors and nurses can be unwittingly calloused.

“There isn’t one woman in this room who hasn’t gone back to her six-week OB checkup who hasn’t had the obstetrician or nurse ask how the baby is doing or if you’re breast- or bottle-feeding,” Mason said.

Messner said that Healing Hearts is looking for a way to educate doctors, “who, remarkably sometimes, have no knowledge of what their patients have gone through.”

“We would like to reach neonatal units through a pamphlet or bereavement package of some kind, but our budget is between $500 and $1,000. Money is always a problem for us,” Messner said.

* The next meeting of Healing Hearts will be at 7 p.m. Wednesday at Children’s Hospital of Orange County, 455 S. Main St., Orange. For more information, telephone (714) 997-1770 (days) or (714) 529-2614 (evenings).