‘When your son is officially called Lowie. Nothing more, nothing less’: the law often makes grief about a stillborn child even greater

Due to serious medical reasons, Jente Van Gemert’s (27) first pregnancy was terminated after 25 weeks. The hospital informed her of the 180-day limit. From that pregnancy period onwards, her son would officially receive a first and last name on a deed, and she could count on maternity leave or maternity allowance. Or as she says: “A meager consolation on top of a very painful experience.”

“We actually thought we had passed that limit,” says Van Gemert. A bitter pill followed in the hospital: the medical world may count from the last menstrual period, but the law looks at conception – a difference of about two weeks. And so their son is officially called Lowie. Nothing more, nothing less.

What’s in a name, you might think. For many couples experiencing pregnancy loss, the answer is simple: recognition. That is precisely the symbolism of the two days of bereavement leave for federal employees, when the loss occurs under six months: it breaks the silent suffering. At the same time it is a drop in the bucket.

Maud Vanwalleghem, ex-senator and human rights activist, has been pointing out for some time that the current law rubs salt in a gaping wound. The so-called ‘140-180 day rule’ provides for a kind of graduated entitlement to certain rights – below 140 you have nothing, above 140 a first name, above 180 a surname and social rights.

“In addition to a lack of recognition, you also have a lack of care,” says Vanwalleghem. From 14 weeks onwards, in the event of termination or loss of pregnancy, delivery in the hospital is standard today. “The birth is no less difficult. Many people are called home sick due to a lack of leave, but the benefit is a lot lower.”

This is also the case with Van Gemert. “Fortunately, I can count on an employer who will provide up to six months of sick leave, but it is not very nice to always have to justify to the doctor why you need that rest.”

It is often a different story for financially vulnerable women, says Vanwalleghem. “Sometimes it means: starting work again the next day.”

New Zealand

At Berrefonds, which supports families after the loss of a child, they see that these different systems can be an extra blow. What also plays a role, says founder Christine Vandenhole: couples are increasingly conscious about (the planning of) wanting to have children and more often end up in a fertility context. “A child also takes shape faster than before, due to the many ultrasounds you see during medical check-ups or apps that tell you that your child is the same size as a peanut or an eggplant.”

That can evoke strong feelings of grief. A stillborn child after 18 weeks of pregnancy can also “completely turn your family upside down,” says Joke Van Hoeck (44). The following was not part of the dilemmas she had already imagined about her daughter’s future: “Cremation or burial, you don’t think about that in advance.”

“I did receive proof that stated that I did not commit a criminal offense by offering the remains at the crematorium,” says Van Hoeck. “I was walking around with a maternity bandage, my breasts were about to burst, but officially Franne did not exist. Even though I gave birth to her and everyone in the hospital saw that little 22 centimeter creature.”

“It’s as if society doesn’t recognize that my body has given birth,” she says.

Even years later, that experience can remain a scar, says Annelies Maes (49), chairman of the non-profit organization Met empty hands. More than twenty years ago she lost her son, after 174 days. “In the hospital they filled in 180 days on the paperwork for the municipality, which then meant that I could offer him a burial place.”

When the law changed – and from that limit onwards a surname was also allowed – she rushed to the hospital again. “Unfortunately, his official medical file contained the correct number: 174 days.”

Just to say how important it was to her, she surreptitiously adjusted the number on the document. Forgery, in other words, to eliminate a persistent injustice. “It made a lot of difference. My husband and I didn’t want him to remain ‘different’ from his brothers and sisters.”

‘Weak legislation’

The fact that this experience is very personal makes hard thresholds feel very arbitrary. Couples who are in danger of not meeting the deadline are also left at the mercy of hospitals. According to the non-profit organizations, some hospitals turn a blind eye to meeting the deadline. Stories of women who walk around with a dead child in their womb for a while are also known.

Vanwalleghem criticizes that doctors are “forced to do this by flawed legislation”. She then advocates a much more uniform approach, such as in New Zealand. “From 20 weeks onwards they grant all rights to those who feel the need. Give people freedom of choice, it’s not that complex.”

Today a matter of minutes can make a huge difference. Geert Suetens (33) gave birth at 23 weeks. The first son was stillborn, the second lived for 45 minutes. “One is officially called Cis, the other Emil Tordoir. That feels very absurd, because they are twins. Cis also lived for us.”