If you've read this blog very long, you know it is absolutely no secret that I have a tender heart for moms who have lost babies. Infant loss touched our family when I was ten and my nephew was stillborn. It came close to home again back in 2001, when my "niece," Carol, died on her 6-month birthday. And before we were married, Ryan lost a niece to stillbirth, too.
I've had many friends who have said goodbye to little ones through miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant death, and it never gets any easier to hear and absorb that news. Because of how often it has touched those I love, I always want to share news about anything that might be helpful to someone who walks the road no one ever wants to take.
Back in 2013,
I wrote about the organization Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, which connects photographers with families who have just lost a child so that they can have photos together with their baby before they say their final goodbyes.
In 2014,
I wrote about a local organization, Hudson's Bands of Hope, which provides bracelets to moms who have walked out of hospitals without a baby in their arms. The ministry began after its founder, Misty, found herself unable to part with her hospital bracelet, because it was the only tangible sign that proved she had been to the hospital to have a baby.
Last month, when I spoke at the retreat in Ohio, I met a brave new friend named Kaila, who is still grieving the loss of her son, Beau.
A year ago in August, Kaila was 38 weeks and 3 days pregnant. She had gone to the doctor and gotten to see little Beau on an ultrasound, and everything was perfect. He even stuck his tongue out at her that day!
Because her husband was in Basic Training, Kaila was staying at her dad's house, and when she went to bed that night, she noticed she had some minor cramping, but she tried to rest. Around one in the morning, she knew something was wrong. It wasn't just minor cramping: these were real contractions. Kaila had given birth to a son before, but her labor had been induced and when she didn't progress, he was taken by c-section, so she hadn't experienced natural labor before. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she didn't think whatever was happening right then was normal.
Kaila's dad called 911, and she was rushed to the hospital.. Nurses were trying to check the baby's heart rate, but struggled to find it. Another nurse tried, and she couldn't find it either. Kaila was rushed into surgery, and when she awakened, she learned that her son, Beau Allen Ray Flory had been stillborn and that her uterus had ruptured at her c-section scar. Kaila almost died that night, too.
Though Kaila has struggled with all the stages of anger and grief that any mother would, she's also determined to make sure Beau's name lives on and other families in this same situation have an advantage she didn't have:
a CuddleCot.
I hadn't heard of these before, so I asked Kaila to tell me about them. They're small cooling devices that can be hidden in a Moses basket {wicker bassinet} that keeps the deceased infant cool, so the family can spend more time with them without having to sit in the sterile environment of the morgue.
Because the hospital where Beau was born did not have a CuddleCot, Kaila and her husband {who was able to come home from Basic Training the next day} had to wait for Beau to be transferred back and forth from the morgue to spend time with him.
Less than a month later, Kaila's community came together to raise enough money for a CuddleCot to be in the hospital for anyone else in that situation to be able to spend time in the comfort of the room with their baby. {
Here is an article about the presentation of that CuddleCot.}
I wanted to tell you about the CuddleCot for a few reasons.
First, if you've not gone through this before, you don't really grasp
how little time you get with your baby before you can't ever see or hold him or her on this earth ever again. If there is
anything that can prolong and preserve that time, I'm adamant that people know about it, because you can't get a second chance on that time later. This I know.
Secondly, Kaila is in the process of raising money for a fourth CuddleCot, and
I wanted to share her Facebook page so you can see how to pitch in if you're led to do so. {She didn't ask me to share it or blog about it at all; I just wanted to help raise awareness and she gave me permission to do so.} If this is something you feel passionate about or it's something that has touched your family like it has ours, this is a way you can help another family down the road.
And thirdly, if your community doesn't have a CuddleCot either, I wanted to let you know that they exist, in case you want to begin an initiative where you live to make this available for anyone who might need it.
It's hard, of course, to think about things like this that are there in the worst of moments. But like I said earlier, when that moment comes, there's no time to wait, so these hard thoughts and conversations have to take place ahead of time.
Kaila, I appreciate the time you took during the retreat to tell me about Beau's life, and I love the way you are honoring him by coming alongside other families in their grief.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says, "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, 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 receive from God."
Praying for and crying with the families who have lost their babies is one way to comfort others with the comfort we received when it was our turn, but I believe reaching out tangibly and providing things like photos and bracelets and CuddleCots are other ways to comfort others with the comfort we received. And I believe Kaila is doing that as she honors Beau's life and memory!