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My life was changed forever on October 6, 1983. I
became the mother of a beautiful and healthy baby girl. The daughter
I had always wanted was finally here ~ a real joy in my life. Then
on July 21, 1985, my joy and my life were shattered by the sudden
unexplained death of my 21-month-old daughter, Kristen. Thus, beginning
my journey through grief as a bereaved mother.
Over the years I have read many books on grief in
order to understand my feelings and thoughts and to discover what
I needed to do in order to survive this tragedy. Even though there
are many authors that I agree with as far as explaining the grief
process and what is necessary to work through grief, I found two
authors especially helpful ~ Dr. Alan Wolfelt and Dr. J. William
Worden.
From all of my reading, I found that the grief process
in many books was divided into anywhere from 3-12 phases or stages.
At first I felt overwhelmed thinking that I would never get through
12 phases. Even though Wolfelt's 'Dimensions' combine many aspects
of the 12 phases, having just three seemed to be more clear and
manageable in my mind. Explaining grief in terms of dimensions seems
to also allow for overlapping and regression of responses. Stages
or phases, to me, implies more of a linear or ordered progression,
which we all know is definitely not the case.
In this article, I would like to describe how the
"Evasion, Encounter and Reconciliation Dimensions"
(1) were (and are) a part of my own grief journey, as well
as how Worden's "The Four Tasks of Mourning"
(2) influenced my grief work. These writings helped clarify
for me what the grief process was and wasn't and what was necessary
for me to do in my own time and way in the hope of becoming a healthy
survivor of child loss.
I have attempted to condense my thoughts as much as
possible, as difficult as that is considering I am usually a 'lengthy'
writer! What is described below is an abbreviated version of some
of my journey so far and certainly not all-inclusive.
Evasion Task I, To Accept
the Reality of the Loss
When the Doctor told us that Kristen had died, I intellectually
knew that it was true, but my heart/mind connection wasn't so accepting
and rational. My insides were in a knot and I kept telling myself
"I can't believe this is happening!"
I made it through the wake and funeral knowing exactly
who was there and what we did, but totally engulfed in numbing disbelief.
On the outside, I appeared to be so much in control that people
kept telling me that I was so strong, and my mother even asked me
what sedative the Doctor gave me to keep me so calm. It wasn't a
matter of being strong or being sedated (which I wasn't) ~ I was
running on automatic ~ but my past coping strategy of 'keeping my
cool' on the outside was seriously being challenged by my feelings
of shock and disbelief and PAIN on the inside.
I never really flatly denied that Kristen died, but
I had overwhelming feelings of disbelief. I guess it was my way
of allowing my body to slow down in order to give me time to take
in all that was happening.
Looking back on the first few months and years, I
can't pinpoint when I actually acknowledged/'accepted' the reality
of Kristen's death. I think to some degree, many aspects of grief
are not totally reconciled or resolved and this may be one of them.
I firmly believe that for the rest of my life I'll be saying "I
can't believe this really happened."
A child's death is so incomprehensible and UNACCEPTABLE,
that expecting to totally 'accept' the loss is unrealistic in my
eyes. People say it all the time, "You HAVE to accept this and get
on with your life." Yes, there is a point of moving forward in one's
grief and in one's life, but I don't believe that I will ever 'accept'
my daughter's death. 'Accept' is a TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE WORD for
me! I acknowledge and understand that she is gone from this earth,
but I don't 'accept' that it's okay she's gone!
Encounter Task II, To Work
Through to the Pain of Grief
Even though I had experienced previous losses in my life (my dad
died when I was three), there was nothing that could have prepared
me for the intensity of emotions after Kristen's death. Tears well-up
in my eyes as I recall the indescribable gut-wrenching pain. I couldn't
eat or sleep for several days, just lots of crying. I was very restless,
but I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. I was on a fast treadmill
with no OFF switch, but I felt I was moving in slow motion. In other
words, I was not myself and I felt I was 'going crazy.'
Three weeks after Kristen's death, my husband and
I attended a Compassionate Friends (CF) meeting. We knew no one
who had experienced this type of loss, so we wanted to meet others
to reassure ourselves that we weren't really going crazy. Support
groups may not be for everyone, but CF was a lifeline for us. We
were allowed to 'tell our story' and express our feelings and thoughts
freely. Family and friends acknowledged my right to grieve, but
after awhile some of them started to assess what 'stage' I was in
and became impatient with my 'long' mourning time (You've heard
many say "It's been a year, get over it!"). Fortunately it was only
1-2 people that tried to pull me along to where I didn't want to
be.
When you suffer a tragic loss, everything may seem
totally out-of-control. I wasn't going to let someone control my
grief. I was going to own it and do it my way. Once my feelings
were known on this topic, those few people somewhat understood that
I wouldn't be pulled to where I wasn't ready to go. My timeline
was not going to be rushed because of their uncomfortableness with
the intense emotions of grief.
Some of the other emotions I felt included ~ searching/yearning,
emptiness, sadness, despair, fear, confusion and anger. My yearning
for Kristen was so intense that I would cry and scream out in anguish
for her. My heart felt like it was ripped out whole and hot pokers
were thrusting through my entire body. It left me with such a sense
of complete emptiness, utter sadness and despair. I thought I was
going to spend the rest of my life in this agony. It was impossible
for me to see past my immediate pain to a future with less pain.
It just wasn't possible.
Even though it looked like I was in control of things,
going about my usual tasks, my mind was in a state of fear and confusion.
We didn't know for sure what Kristen died from until one year later.
Until that time we were afraid that if we had another child, tragedy
might strike again.
Being in this situation in the first place really
made me angry. I didn't want to be a bereaved parent! My anger was
manifested as constant irritability. For example, I couldn't stand
waiting at a stoplight. I'd yell at the driver in front of me for
no reason at all. Well, actually I had a reason, but it had nothing
to do with the driver!
Tremendous loving support from my husband, family
and friends helped me (and still do) become aware of and deal with
my emotional roller coaster. I was experiencing emotions I never
knew existed at such high intensity. Fortunately, I tried.everyday.to
acknowledge, target and release those emotions instead of stuffing
them, which can have some severe ramifications. It didn't always
work, but I TRIED!
Reconciliation Task III, To
Adjust to an Environment in Which the Deceased is Missing and Task
IV, To Emotionally Relocate the Deceased and Move on With Life
This was and is the most difficult aspect of my journey. Hanging
onto Kristen's image in my mind was imperative. I was not going
to let that go. I wasn't going to settle for a memory. I wanted
to touch her, smell her, kiss her and tell her I loved her one more
time. Again, I can't pinpoint when my physical image of Kristen
moved to my memory. It was a very gradual and reluctant process
of running her life and death over and over in my mind.
Kristen was our only child, so when she died, I had
difficulty adjusting to an empty home. I no longer had a child to
care for 24 hours each day. Everywhere I looked I saw her, but I
couldn't touch her. I even questioned whether I was a mother anymore,
especially when I didn't receive Mother's Day cards that first year.
My new identity as a bereaved mother was not one I wanted to own!
Because I was a full-time mom, some felt it might
be best for me to return to teaching Physical Education in order
to keep me busy. Dan and I thought long and hard and mutually agreed
to continue our family despite still not knowing what Kristen died
from. Some may have thought another child would be a replacement
child, but in our hearts NO CHILD will ever take Kristen's place
~ each child that we would be blessed with in the future would be
their OWN PERSON!
During this time I continued reading books on grief,
exercising to release energy and anger and attending CF meetings.
Over the course of time, I was slowly 'moving away' from Kristen,
which then brought up some guilt. I guess I didn't want her to think
I was giving up on her by relegating her to memory. This grief business
was really getting to me!
Over the next 2-3 years, with the addition of our
two boys, my journey had its ups and downs. Having Kevin and Brian
was bittersweet ~ accentuating the reality that Kristen wasn't here.
With Kevin's birth, there was a tremendous upsurge of grief when
we discovered he had the same rare metabolic deficiency (MCAD) that
went undetected in Kristen. She was positively diagnosed by testing
saved liver tissue soon after Kevin was diagnosed. The "what
if's" were flying everywhere. How different our lives would
be "if only..." Until Kevin's birth, I thought I was moving along
okay. The regression was unsettling and disheartening.
Dealing with Kevin's medical situation was stressful
early on and involved grief work in its own way, but over the years
I have learned to cope by using past strategies of reading, exercising,
networking with other families in the same situation, and presently
I am back in graduate school.
Soon after Kristen's death I began thinking about
how I could help others during such a tragic time in their lives.
My plans were put on hold while having Kevin and Brian and while
making a major move to Greensboro from my/our home in Champaign,
Illinois (another major loss for me). My anger about the move has
since been channeled into pursuing a master's degree in counseling.
It was such a sense of release or inner peace once
my decision was made. I freed myself to be open to new relationships,
which I have been establishing at home, school and at hospice. At
the same time, I felt a little more comfortable than before about
physically 'letting go' (that's another word I take great exception
to!) of Kristen. I know she'll be in my heart forever, and no one
can take that away!
It may sound as if my grief journey is completed.
In reality, however, my journey will be a lifelong one while Kristen
'grows up' in my mind. Birthdays and holidays are especially difficult.
As I mentioned earlier, some aspects of my grief may never be totally
reconciled, but through my love for my daughter, I will not only
survive ~ I will move beyond survival!
"Our Hearts Give Immortality To Those We Love In
Memory"
Suggestions for caregivers working with bereaved
parents ~
- Be with us and allow us to 'tell our story' no
matter how many years go by
- Be there for us, listening and being non-judgemental,
when others have heard enough
- Help us understand that grief is WORK ~ it won't
go away by just thinking about it, we need to be proactive and
not passive ~ move toward and into our grief instead of running
away and hiding from it
- Help us, in our own time and way, explore our unique
journey and encourage the expression of our thoughts and feelings,
religious beliefs, search for meaning, etc.
- Normalize and validate our grief
- Allow us to be where we are instead of pulling
us along to where you think we SHOULD be
- Be prepared for intense emotions ~ don't take them
personally
- Encourage us to attend bereaved parent support
groups and networking with others
- Offer hope for healing and survival ~ reconciliation
doesn't mean we will never experience grief, again, but that we
will move toward healing and moving on with our lives as changed
persons
- Be aware of 'complicated' grief and refer to other
professionals when necessary
- Take time for yourself ~ working with us takes
lots of energy
- Be gentle with yourself, as far as expectations
go ~ your role is not to take our pain away nor to fix us ~ BE
WITH US!
Deb Lee Gould, July 1991
[This was the very first article I wrote after forming the MCAD
Family Support Group in 1991 (along with my husband, Dan) and also
returning to graduate school in Counseling. This article (revised)
was written for a grief counseling newsletter and was printed in
the Sept./Oct. and Nov./Dec. 1991, issues of the Transition Center's
The Caregiver Newsletter, Greensboro, NC.]

References and Permissions to Reprint
1) Dr. Alan Wolfelt, Clinical Psychologist and Director
of the Center for Loss and Life Transition in Fort Collins, CO.
Author of a variety of books on grief such as Death and Grief:
A Guide for Clergy (Accelerated Development, Inc., 1988)
and Helping Children Cope with Grief (Accelerated
Development Inc., 1983). "Dimensions of Grief" in
Death and Grief: A Guide for Clergy, Accelerated Development
Inc., 1983, reproduced with the permission of, and written by Dr.
Alan Wolfelt, Director, Center for Loss and Life Transition, 3735
Broken Bow Rd, Fort Collins, CO 80526, Companion Press (970) 226-6050.
2) Dr. J. William Worden, Clinical Psychologist and
Co-Director of the Harvard Child Bereavement Study. Author of a
variety of books on grief such as Grief Counseling and Grief
Therapy (Springer Publishing, 2nd Edition, 1991) and Children
and Grief: When a Parent Dies (The Guilford Press, 1996).
" The Four Tasks of Mourning" is "used by
permission." Grief Counseling and Grief Therapy, Dr.
J. William Worden. Springer Publishing Company, Inc., New York 10012,
2nd Edition, Copyright ©1991, pp 10-18.

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