In Gear | Rotary in Southern New Zealand Issue 2 | Page 38

Emmerson has also been strong in another aspect of
grieving. She does not, and will not, varnish the truth
or sugar coat the realities.
“The journey, while traumatic, has brought with it lots
of beautiful gifts,” she says.
“We just have had to be prepared to see them – and,
trust me, I have had some dark times, really dark
times where I’ve wanted to be with my baby, which is
quite normal when you’re grieving your child.”
Not only does Emmerson want to share her
experience, it is an integral part of her healing.
“In my journey I want to encourage people to speak
their truth; and, the other thing I’ve learned is, we
don’t do grief very well here in New Zealand. I think we
need to encourage people to grieve in whatever way,
in a way that’s right for them.
“No-one has a right to tell anyone else the right or
wrong way to grieve for them, because we’re all
so different, and we all react and process things
differently.”
From her experience, losing a baby, especially one
during pregnancy, is routinely minimised through
what she’s come to see as a ‘hierarchy of death’.

“There’s a belief people are more important if they’ve
lived longer.
“Some people think that, because Adisyn died inside
of me, somehow, she didn’t count.
“You do often get a gasp when people ask if you’re a
parent, and you say: ‘Yes – I’m the mother of an angel
baby’.
“It’s very uncomfortable for a lot of people.
There’s a lack of understanding and people
don’t converse about this – they don’t
want to talk about it. There, honestly, are
not many people who want to have the
conversation.
“I liken baby and infant loss to domestic
violence and mental illness, say, 15 years ago,

when they were big taboo subjects and no-one talked
about them. And now look at us: we’re doing parades
in the street – it’s wonderful; people are talking about
it and people are more supported.
“My hope is that, for baby and child loss, this will
also become the case, that people won’t baulk at the
idea of talking about it. It just completely and utterly
isolates the parents who are going through the worst
thing they could ever imagine going through in their
l ives.”
In sharing their story, Emmerson hopes she brings
understanding, and inspires others to speak their
truth.
“I’m very passionate about that, because I know so
many people suffer in silence.
“Life does move on – you want it to stop; however,
it does move on. But I do worry for those who don’t
have support.
“There are so many women I’ve met who are in their
60s – I had one talk to me at a fundraiser; she had a
stillborn baby and never got to see them; they were
just taken away. She doesn’t even know where her
baby was buried.

“These mothers suffer their whole life.
“As they say, great pain comes from great love.”
An interesting part of her healing path, she says,
has been the things she’s needed to do for comfort
– things others, she readily admits, might think are
crazy, but bereaved parents understand all-too-well.
“When I first brought Adisyn home after the funeral
and cremation, I carried her everywhere. I had her in
my handbag and people didn’t even know.
“I was worried about her. I had separation anxiety.
Now she stays at home, but still, when we go overnight
somewhere, she comes with us.”
Ben and Emmerson left Wellington just five weeks
after losing Adisyn, desperate to find some way to flee
the pain and to, somehow, rebuild their lives.

Page 38 | In Gear - Rotary in southern New Zealand - District 9980 | www.rotarydistrict9980.org