Ask me his name: a mother’s request

Oct. 15 is Infant Loss Awareness Day*. Winetta Nguyen is a member of the Archdiocese of Vancouver Communications Office writing about her son Daxin Joseph Nguyen who lived for seven days. 

I came across a book titled Ask Me His Name. I knew right away that this book was about a mom’s experience after the loss of her baby. I haven’t read the book yet, but the title alone spoke to my heart.

The title of this book is what I long for most days. I want people to ask me my son’s name. I want to tell them about Daxin. There is so much love in our hearts when we get to say his name out loud.

I know many people are uncomfortable with asking us about our son because they are afraid that it will resurface the pain and loss that we’ve experienced. The truth is, the pain and loss is always there. We can’t be reminded of something that is on our minds and hearts to begin with.

What has helped my husband and I get through the dark days this past year is talking openly about our grief. For us, sharing memories about our son, saying his name out loud, including his name in cards we write to friends and family, and placing photos of him on our wall has helped us to heal day by day.

Yes, what happened to us is a sad thing. We get it. We know it’s an uncomfortable topic of conversation. We know that it’s not your typical small talk situation, but the truth is, this is our reality. This is our family. We talk about our son because we need to. If we don’t, it’s as if he never existed. If we don’t, it’s as if I was never pregnant and my body wouldn’t understand why it needs to recover after giving birth. If we don’t, it’s as if we never became parents.

It’s not that we are intentionally trying to stay in our grief. It’s more like our daily life has several unexpected triggers, which we have to learn to live with.

For instance, I work walking distance from the hospital, a place where we said goodbye to our son. That drive to and from work can serve as a painful reminder, but instead, in choosing to live with my grief, I see the hospital as a place where I received the most beautiful gift in the world.

There are also times when I am reminded of how much my body has changed post-pregnancy. When I can’t fit my pre-pregnancy clothes anymore or I can’t stand for long because the shape of my feet has changed, in choosing to live with my grief I instead see that as a reminder that I AM A MOM – as my best friend reminds me often.

Or when my husband drives to work, and his daily route passes by the exit to the cemetery that our son is buried at, in choosing to live with grief my husband visits our son every Friday during his lunch break.

These are our daily reminders. This is what living with grief looks like.

For us, living with the grief means letting go of the pain but never letting go of our son.

We grieve because we love. So ask us his name.

My Child Did Exist 
By an Unknown Author

I’ve lost a child, I hear myself say, 
And the person I’m talking to just turns away. 
Now why did I tell them, I don’t understand.
It wasn’t for sympathy or to get a helping hand. 
I just want them to know I’ve lost someone dear, 
I want them to know my child was here. 
My child left something behind which no can see, 
So, if I’ve upset you, I’m sorry as can be. 
You’ll have to forgive me, I could not resist. 
I just want you to know that my child did exist.

                                                                                       •  

*Monday, Oct. 15, is Infant Loss Awareness Day, a day of remembrance for pregnancy loss and infant death, including miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS, and the death of a newborn. Archbishop Miller will celebrate Mass at 7 p.m. at the Evangelist Chapel at Gardens of Gethsemani in Surrey. The cemetery will be lit up to honour these little ones. All are welcome. Visit rcav.org/pregnancy-loss for more information.