When Death Comes at the End of Life

My reflections on my father’s ‘good death’, and the profound grief of pregnancy loss and stillbirth.

A few short weeks ago, my beloved dad died.  He was 87.  The sadness I feel is for the knowledge that I will no longer hear his voice, or spend time with him, whether in person or through video call. 

Dad and I enjoyed a close relationship and, even though I emigrated to Australia 23 years ago, he visited a few times, and we continued to share a connection despite the physical distance.  In the lead up to his death I realised that, perhaps, living so far away had created a quiet kind of acceptance within me – each time I said goodbye after visiting the UK I had to find a small piece of my heart that could accept the possibility that it might be the last time I’d see him.  I realised long ago that because of the distance, I could never take another visit for granted in that he, or any other member of my family, would still be there when I next went back.

I am grateful that this time, I was able to join my family and be with him before he died.  I was present, I shared final moments that I will always treasure, and being together with all my family at that time is something I will hold close.

Grieving the Death of a Parent After a Long Life

My dad’s death is not the first death I’ve endured.  A couple of weeks before him, my friend Maureen, also 87, died too.  4 years ago, one of my best friends, Penny, died.  She was a youthful 80.  Friends that have meant a great deal to me have also unexpectedly passed away over time. But Dad’s death has made me reflect on the very different ways we experience loss. 

As someone who works with pregnancy loss and stillbirth grief, death at the end of a long life can feel, in some sense, right.  This doesn’t mean it’s less painful, or easier to say goodbye…it’s just that it’s because it follows the natural order of life.  A life that has been lived has had time - time to grow, love, experience relationships, create memories, and allow the person to become who they were meant to be.

And, despite everything, I think my dad had a ‘good death’.  Though deeply sad, there was time for dignity, connection, comfort and goodbyes.  This does not mean that every death at an advanced age is peaceful, uncomplicated, experienced as acceptable or that their loss is in any way less significant.  But for me, there’s comfort in knowing that Dad did have a long life, was safe, was surrounded by love, and I was able to be with him before he died.

Understanding the Difference Between Grief at the End of Life and Pregnancy Loss Grief.

Loss of life before life has actually started is something completely different.  The anticipated life has not had the chance to unfold so… what is there to grieve?  Well, often, parents have begun picturing themselves with their child, imagining the first birthday, the first day of school, the new identity they are transitioning to, the new shared experiences to come and the lifetime of memories waiting to be made through togetherness and family lineage.  This is one of the profound distinctions in understanding the grief of losing someone who has lived a life, and losing a baby before or at the beginning of life.

Both losses can bring deep grief.  Neither diminishes the love that exists.  But the context, the circumstances, the expectations and the future that death takes away, are profoundly different.  There is no opportunity for that anticipated life to unfold, and the order of life that many parents expect, where they grow alongside their children and to eventually be outlived by them, has been profoundly disrupted.

What does Vilomah Mean in Pregnancy and Child Loss?

I came across this word on the internet a few years ago and was super excited about it.  Because, whilst we may all be familiar with the words ‘Orphan’, ‘Widow’ and ‘Widower’… there is no word that can be assigned to a person whose child has died.  But the word 'Vilomah' has Sanskrit roots and means ‘against the natural order’ and was popularised by Karla Holloway (https://today.duke.edu/2009/05/holloway) to help validate a type of grief that society often struggles with; minimising or dismissing pregnancy loss grief completely.

For parents who experience stillbirth or pregnancy loss, this type of grief can be especially difficult to put into words. Living ‘against the natural order’ can describe the profound challenge parents face when death disrupts the expected sequence of life. They must learn to live in a world without their child or children - even though love, anticipation, and a sense of becoming a parent may already have begun. And this remains true whether the baby’s life was brief or never experienced outside the womb.

Pregnancy Loss Grief and the Life That Was Imagined

My dad’s death reminds me that grief is not about the age of the person, it’s about the relationship, the love, the meaning of the connection and the life that was shared - also, the life that will be lived without them. 

But in pregnancy and child loss, there is loss of a hoped-for future, a sense of being “robbed” of something presumed certain; some shattered understanding within themselves; of their expected trouble-free passage to parent-hood.  There can be grief associated with the experience of the pregnancy itself – the readiness at home, preparations for the birth and these secondary losses deserve recognition and compassion too.  Just because there may be no memories and no outward connection to community or family, the loss is no less significant - the love attached to an anticipated child can be deeply real and meaningful.

My Experience of Grief and Loss

 So, I do understand that grief takes many forms.  My own experience of stillbirth and miscarriage has shaped my understanding of the profound and often life-altering nature of pregnancy and perinatal loss. 

Now, as I grieve my dad, I’m reminded how personal the practice of mourning is. Different losses bring different experiences, and each one is unique in their navigation and understanding.  Losing him after a long life, doesn’t compare with the death of my daughter before she had the chance to live - because they both matter, and they’re both very different.

Counselling Support for Grief

Whether you’re grieving the death of a parent, spouse, sibling, friend or the loss of a baby or pregnancy that ended before you expected, your grief deserves to be met with compassion, understanding and care.

Here at The Quiet Cradle, I support individuals and couples experiencing stillbirth, pregnancy loss, reproductive challenges and relationship trauma.  Available face to face in Perth or online throughout Australia, you’re welcome to explore with me how counselling may support you through your grief experience.

With care,

Darrell