Desperate for Community
In August of last year, I excitedly checked in for my four-month obstetrics appointment of my second daughter’s pregnancy. But during that routine visit I discovered that my sweet baby’s little heart had stopped beating. She was gone, already having been received into heaven without my being aware of it. And that was the end of my world, the end of my former self. I died with her.
I'm confident you know these feelings as well.
The very next day, I sought God.
I was looking for divine comfort as I tried to prepare myself for having to be induced and deliver a dead daughter. So, I went to daily mass at my parish church the very next afternoon. Once services ended, my grandfather and mother brought me to Father and explained what had happened the day before. He gave his heartfelt sympathies and said a blessing over me, but when we parted, it seemed awkward. As though he didn't know what to say or what direction to point me in; to be fair, I'm sure it was difficult for him to some extent. I'm certain this was not a topic he was anticipating being approached with, but I too was completely blind sighted and distraught with this tragedy.
Maybe my expectations were too high because what I really wanted was for someone to wake me up from this nightmare and tell me it wasn't real, that the child I could still feel in my womb was actually alive. But he never mentioned Red Bird Ministries. Knowing what I know now, that it was formed since 2018, that he knew the founders and so much about the ministry....why WOULDN'T he gently guide me in your direction from the start??
It's a question I wonder about.
A ministry such as RBM was what I needed right away. At the hospital, I was given plenty of information regarding another child loss ministry, and the case manager presented our loss to them on my behalf. An individual with this organization called me to offer condolences without hesitation, to validate my child’s existence, and to make their presence known to me. What a sweet relief it was to hear that someone had found me when I felt buried alive, unable to help myself by seeking support on my own. If it weren’t for them, I would not have had the immediate assistance that I was desperate for initially. It was some months later while attending a weekly grieving mothers' group that I heard about Red Bird Ministries and its purpose.
Throughout this period, I have brought my grief and anger to the confessional many times over the last year. And I usually bring up having lost my daughter because at times, my hardened heart goes hand in hand with my despair and anger over having lost her. It's something I'm working on, but it's the reality of my new life following child loss. Our parish priests have given me good counsel and have been instrumental in my endeavor to be holy, for which I am so thankful for their presence in our community. However, regarding my sufferings with this special cross neither of them ever pointed me towards Red Bird.
I knew about RBM, but our priests certainly didn't know of my knowledge of the ministry...they didn't even know me behind the partition.
Why wouldn't they spread the word?
It makes me upset that there's a ministry right here at their disposal. A ministry they and the diocese have made acknowledgements of to help serve the faithful who are suffering quietly. A ministry created by and for individuals who have felt they have to hide their grief from the world because it’s just too “uncomfortable” for others to discuss. But they couldn't share it with me while I was broken and seeking healing in the room at the back of the church.
Why? It hurts my heart.
Who else is looking for you and your services in the church?
Who else is lost, and our shepherds can't guide them to you?
The grief ministry within my parish couldn't even point me to you, a sister ministry.
A specialized ministry.
Besides a RBM team member sharing the ministry with me, I've had acquaintances who would see a post from RBM on social media and share it with me because they know my story. Otherwise, the only other person active in the church who guided me to you was my chiropractor. He didn't know I already knew of you, but he was sure to throw me that lifeline anyway. Nobody within the clergy could lead me, a lost sheep, to you.
Why aren't our Shepards pointing us to you?
And now, I thank you for letting me share my wounds with you and for receiving me into the Red Bird family.
Vivienne’s Mother