Karen Roush's "I Wish I Had Understood What It Meant, Leaving You That Last Time" (Reducing Risk September 2006) made me feel that I was not alone. My husband and I lost our son on October 3, 2000. He was born at 25 weeks' gestation and was initially stable, until he developed intracranial bleeding. I held him as he passed, but I will ask myself for the rest of my life why I did not hold him longer. The hospital staff bathed him, dressed him, and took photos for us. My sister has those photos; I haven't been ready to see them
Amanda Vogel, BSN, RN
Schoharie, NY
Many neonatal ICUs (NICUs) have a special area for infants who have died, but in our hospital there is also a small room in the back of our Labor and Delivery Unit, called Chloe's Room, in memory of the daughter of one of our nurses. It has a bassinet and rocker, is softly lit, has a soothing lavender scent, and is outside the usual hospital activity. We bathe, dress, and take photos of the infant, and the parents can help if they wish. The infant can be taken back and forth to the mother as she wishes
Carol Gentry, BSN, RNC
Dallas, TX
I work at Albany Medical Center Hospital in the Birth Place, which is beneath our NICU. I (LG-H) started a perinatal bereavement program in 2003 after I lost my daughter Cailin on my unit and have since founded a not-for-profit organization (http://www.cailinsmemories.org). What the last paragraph in Roush's article demonstrates is what we call "emotional memory making" in our organization. Thanks to the nurses who cared for me, I was able to make my memories of Cailin. All bereaved parents deserve this opportunity
Lesley Gorny-Hornbeck, RN
Jean Rowe, RN
Albany, NY
The loss of my son is the reason I went to nursing school, so that I might help parents who watch their child slowly die. I wonder if the pain ever gets any better. Our hospice nurse was incredible; she always included our other son in any way she could and he has only fond memories of his brother. I hope that my patients one day feel about me as my family feels about her
Serina P. Wisnewski, RN
Melbourne, FL