Building a Culture of Life

Reframing cultural perspectives on life and grief during pregnancy and infant loss awareness month

Have you considered how your response to miscarriage shapes your outlook on the dignity and value of life? 

Being pro-life means respecting the dignity of all life from conception to natural death as Pope Paul VI in 1968 helped the Church recognize. As the Church, we are not just working to eradicate abortion from society. Assisting someone in choosing life is a beautiful work of mercy, but our perspectives and responses on life and death can sometimes send mixed messages that can be counterproductive. At the heart of the pro-life movement is the desire to change the culture of death to a culture of life. This change starts with how we speak, how we act, and how we provide support with regard to the loss of all life.

How does pregnancy loss factor in? 

No words can describe the feeling of how your life changes for the good with two little pink lines. You know that a beautiful little unrepeated eternal soul is growing within your womb, and even though you may be scared, as a parent, you fall completely in love.

As women, we have the ability to be receptive to others, both physically and spiritually. We hold a space in our womb for life to begin to grow when God creates that little eternal soul. We create space in our hearts to fall in love with our child, to be completely ravished by the fruit of our love, an innocent child a gift from our creator.

We begin to wonder if this baby will be a boy or a girl. We start envisioning our baby’s facial features, eye color, and hair color. We also think about what name we will choose for this child. Who will we tell first about this gift? What lifestyle changes will I have to make? We begin to nurture our baby while our bodies are nourishing this tiny little life.

In marriage, God gives us our helpmate to be complementary to us. Men are naturally problem solvers and think of the logistics and financial aspects of whether our car can fit another car seat. Will our house be big enough to put another baby bed? Will we have enough money for Catholic education? He asks himself, can we afford this child?

Together, as a couple, you begin to plan a future with your baby. You are overjoyed and overwhelmed with the goodness of this little life, especially when you have prayed for a baby for so long. Your family begins or grows by one more.

Nothing can prepare you when bliss meets the heartache of loss. You are unprepared when you hear those God-awful words, “I’m sorry your baby does not have a heartbeat.” You are sent home unprepared for what is to come. Because we don’t talk about this amongst one another, many couples are sent home confused. I think the trauma of not knowing what to expect is equally terrifying as the pain of the loss.

Miscarriage is definitely not a heavy period. Pretending that it is, hurts families. Miscarriage actually feels a lot like childbirth. Because it is. When a mother loses a baby, she has to deliver the child into the world. How many of us women entered this suffering, completely blindsided by the physical pain of the birth of our tiny little baby?

My husband thought he would have to call an ambulance based on what he saw in our bathroom. He shared with me later that he had never seen so much blood in his entire life. He had never witnessed his wife so pale and weak in agony, whaling in pain and what appeared to be short moments of unconsciousness. The fear of losing me was terrifying, even though it didn’t last through the night; while it was happening, thoughts of closing ourselves off to life ran through his mind. Our fathers of loss watch their beautiful wives give birth to tiny little saints and feel completely helpless. And because we don’t talk about this, they often do not know what to do next.

No one ever told me that losing a baby brings more than just a little sadness. No, it was like experiencing a devastating loss, requiring physical and emotional recovery, and causing profound heartache. My body gave birth to an eternal soul. And yet, the world I encountered was silent about my loss. There were days when it felt like a bad dream. 

Where is the compassion of the faithful? People move about their day like nothing ever happened to me. Two weeks after our loss, three sets of friends came to visit and one openly discussed her pregnancy in front of us. Heartbreaking. I ran to the bathroom in crying hysteria, and they didn’t even notice.

After our miscarriages, very few people said anything to us about what happened. No one mentioned anything about our baby’s due date or remembered our baby’s anniversary of loss. Our family didn’t know if they could count our miscarried babies as our children until we began to include them. This confused me, and so often, I didn’t feel like I had permission to grieve them, name our babies, or remember them openly. When the world does not acknowledge your loss, you feel like you have no right to share your baby. 

Why are we so afraid to talk about death as Catholics? To be open to life also means to be open to death. But most Catholics aren’t. We shy away from this topic.

Does not our whole faith and salvation hinge on one man dying and one mother accepting the Father's will for her life? Yet we don’t say anything to our friends and family when they lose a baby. We don’t become a support system for the brokenhearted. We are not “Marian” in nature going in haste to Elizabeth when she is in need of us.

The silence of the suffering people in and out of our pews is incredible. 

Pregnancy loss is more common than we acknowledge:

  • 1 in 4 pregnancies ends in miscarriage before 20 weeks

  • 1 in 160 pregnancies ends in stillbirth

  • 1 in 250 babies die before 1 month old

  • 1 in 333 babies is diagnosed in utero with a life-limiting diagnosis, and parents have to choose either to carry to term or abort their baby.

Mental Health and Support Statistics:

  • Less than 5% of Church parishes budget and offer bereavement support.

  • Only 5% of people who need grief support actually seek professional help from a counselor or therapist for their grief.

  • Out of the 5% who do seek professional help, 67% want to talk about their faith.

  • Yet less than 5% of therapists are equipped to talk about their faith either because it’s against their practice policy or because they feel ill-equipped to talk about deep theological issues that arise.

    For example:

    • Where is my baby? He/she was not baptized.

    • I am scared to get pregnant again. Should I take contraception or maybe consider sterilization?

    • My marriage is struggling. I am not being supported. What should I do?

  • Complicated grief only contributes to about 4% of those who are grieving, but in perinatal loss, it skyrockets to 67% because the loss and permission to grieve do not fit in what society gages to be appropriate. 

    • I believe it has a lot to do with how the world views life. Most people in the secular culture and medical community do not view this little life as a baby, so therefore, you shouldn’t be sad. 

    • How the world places value on the baby according to the development stage is confusing to families, and they do not think they have a right to grieve their loss. 

    • This also is a huge problem with how the lay faithful react to pregnancy loss, and it must change if we are ever going to change how the culture views the dignity of all life.

      Do we not believe that at the moment of conception, a little baby is growing within our womb? Then, let us practice what we profess and preach.

These are questions and statements that we hear every day at Red Bird Ministries.

I realize that not every one of us has experienced the loss of a child or been impacted by suicide, but it’s likely you know someone who has.

Are we the type of Church that longs to bring them Jesus, or are we the Christians who are scared to touch human misery? 

Pope Francis, in Evangeli Gaudium, says, “Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross is nothing else than the culmination of the way he lived his entire life. Moved by his example, we want to enter fully into the fabric of society, sharing the lives of all, listening to their concerns, helping them materially and spiritually in their needs, rejoicing with those who rejoice, weeping with those who weep, arm in arm with others, we are committed to building a new world. But we do so not from a sense of obligation, not as a burdensome duty, but as the result of a personal decision that brings us joy and gives meaning to our lives. 

Sometimes, we are tempted to be that kind of Christian who keeps the Lord’s wounds at arm’s length. Yet Jesus wants us to touch human misery, to touch the suffering flesh of others. He hopes that we will stop looking for those personal or communal niches that shelter us from the maelstrom of human misfortune and instead enter into the reality of other people’s lives and know the power of tenderness. Whenever we do so, our lives become wonderfully complicated- and we experience intensely what it is to be a people, to be part of a people.

The Church, in its beauty and wisdom, always seeks God's will. We are constantly uncovering and rediscovering the many treasures that have had a significant impact on those who are grieving. If we truly believe that death was so terrible that Jesus had to destroy it, we can understand that the grief surrounding death matches the terrible nature of loss. 

It is crucial to allow our families to experience the human side of their grief while also guiding them toward the eternal. Grief is the appropriate response to death.

I repeat, dear faithful, that grief is the appropriate response to grief. Humans can and will feel the depravity of death while also clinging desperately to hope. Mary Magdalene almost missed the resurrection. We need people who can speak truth to those who are lost and point others who are suffering to the cross. See how He took on death and destroyed it. Allow those who are suffering to go through the Pascal mystery. They cannot arrive on Easter Sunday until they face Good Friday, feel the depravity of death on Holy Saturday, and arrive in joy on Easter Sunday.

When I was in the middle of my grief journey, I had so many questions, and I was so angry at God.

  • What did I do to deserve this?

  • Why did God allow this to happen to our family?

  • Why does God allow a child to die?

  • Does He even care that I’m suffering, that my child died?

  • Is God good?

  • Does He even love me?

Ryan and I are not the only family with these questions. These are common questions and themes that are brought into our support groups and on retreats. Red Bird allows families to work through their grief without judgment, providing them with a safe place to process what they are feeling within a community of like-minded Christians. When one does not believe in God, what happens after death? Without faith, all hope can be lost. When we do not have the formation and space to explore these questions, we can further wound a family.

What sets Red Bird apart is that we provide the tools to walk with families addressing their grief holistically, and supporting the whole person. Other grief ministries or support groups that are not Christ-centered cannot provide what we have found to be the key to helping families not only cope with the loss of their child but also to see families actually thrive again. Families are being restored and their faith is renewed.

So again, I bring you back to my consideration of consistent language. 

How we address life on both fronts, life wanted but wasn’t part of God’s plan for our life, and how we advocate for life when we look at abortion must be consistent language if we ever want to help change the culture of life.

When someone shares with me that they experienced a pregnancy loss, I always say I am sorry for your loss. What is the most surprising thing that I hear over and over from the lay faithful are the words, “It’s okay. I was only 6 weeks, I was only 8 weeks, I was only 10 weeks.”

This is always shocking to me. Is that not a baby? Did that baby not have an eternal soul, inherent dignity, deserving of a name, to be celebrated, to be remembered? Why do we keep these babies' lives a secret? They are the forgotten little souls, our personal intercessors.

This is inconsistent language. We cannot advocate for someone not to end their child’s life on one side of the aisle but reduce life loss when you don’t want to talk about the uncomfortable nature of babies dying.

Someone once said to me, “I’m so glad that I lost my baby before I met him/her. You have it worse than me because you met your child. You know who you lost.” This exact language and attitude toward miscarriage downplays their loss and disregards that child’s life by moving on as if nothing ever happened.

I understand that everyone grieves differently, but as Catholics, we pray for and bury the dead. We honor the dignity of all life. We name our babies, and if we can’t bury their tiny bodies, we can at least have a naming and commendation ceremony to pray for their return to Jesus. When we have no place to go to remember our baby, we can go to prayer.

The Church can assist in going to prayer with our families. They are the forgotten little saints we talk about who are in heaven. The communion of saints includes our little babies, your baby, and my baby, and when we return to heaven, we will meet them. When my time comes to return to our Lord, God willing, I hope to be worthy on judgment day to enter the kingdom of Heaven. I do not want Talon Antoine, Emma Grace, Christian Ryan, and Eva Cathering to ever say, 'Mama, why didn’t you tell people about me?

If your baby died before being baptized, your heart may be crying out, “Where is my baby now?”

There is hope for your hurting heart. Read more here.

We have an obligation as Catholics to provide a safe space for people who are grieving to answer these deep theological questions and explore the humanness of grief. These babies were carried with love.

Consider this: When someone loses someone they love, there is a willing and ready heart to explore their faith, and either they can lean into it and become close to God, or they can fall away and become bitter. We should not leave grief work to the secular world to make sense of suffering without God. Jesus, God incarnate, suffered and died for us so that we may have eternal life. Jesus destroyed death because death was so terrible. Our Lord and Savior knows how painful it is to die. He literally sweats blood in the garden, and families of loss need space to explore the humanness of grief.

Here are practical things you can do in your parish for pregnancy loss. 

  • Baby Loss Awareness Week is held annually from October 9th to the 15th. Ask your parish to place the RBM announcement inside their bulletin that acknowledges these little lives and the love that we, the Church, have for the families that have been impacted.

  • October 15th is pregnancy and infant loss remembrance day. This day is meant to break the culture of silence surrounding infant and pregnancy loss and allow people to share their personal experiences and remember their loss. 

    • The Global Wave of Light. On October 15th, people from all over the world participate in The Global Wave of Light. They light candles, buildings, and monuments to honor and remember their babies. The illuminations start at 7 p.m. in each time zone and move westward as a wave of light travels around the globe. 

      • Mass of Remembrance. Please talk to your pastor about offering a Mass of Remembrance for the families of loss on the evening of October 15th and offer a wave of light in memory of the babies who died too soon. 6:30 pm is a great time to begin your Mass. RBM has a Mass of Remembrance digital template kit that can be purchased to make it very easy to host, including the liturgy outline recommendation, baby name sign-in sheet, flyer, social card, and more.

      • Reception. Host a light reception after the Mass to create a community where families can come together and share their experiences.

  • The Order of Naming and Commendation Rite. When a baby dies, most families only know baptism, but baptism is for the living. It is not appropriate to have a catechism lesson when a family is in crisis, but the church has beautiful prayers for our unbaptized babies. Share with clergy and anyone you know who has experienced a loss.

    Consider these reasons:

    • We pray for the dead. A little baby is a reason to pray.

    • Some families are not given anything with their child’s name on it to take home after pregnancy loss.

    • This can provide the closure most families need to begin healing.

    • A family can have a private ceremony in the hospital or at the graveside during burial, or the parish can invite families quarterly for a memorial service if burial is not possible.

    • Purchase some of the booklets for your parish. Give to clergy and families when a loss occurs.

  • Have Red Bird resources available in your parish and place in the following:

  • Sponsor a family on retreat. The parish or a parishioner can sponsor a family to attend one of the RBM retreats. 

    • About 50% of families who attend retreats do so on a scholarship. The financial impact of loss is the reason why most families do not get help.

  • Red Bird Support Offerings

  • Family Support Register a family of loss on our website for virtual support through Zoom, including comfort calls and spiritual direction by trained staff who are also mothers of loss. We also provide Catholic Counseling referrals.

  • Digital Resources - including blogs, podcasts, downloads, Branded community-based app, Hallow prayer meditations, etc.

Lastly, let’s change the way we look at pregnancy loss and be the kind of Church that really builds a culture of life with consistent language. If you are interested in becoming an advocate for your parish and receiving information to share in your parish bulletin, please visit our website at redbird.love/get-involved sign-up to be included on our parish email list.

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The Grief of Dads