An Unguarded Moment part 2

A Mother attepts to make sense of her daughters death

My marriage, never strong, started crumbling almost immediately. Al and I could not be supportive to each other. He would be having a good day and come home to find me crumpled in tears and visa versa. I knew that he secretly blamed me for Caity’s death. . I had had a affair during our marriage. It lasted for a year. I was 24 and he was 45. I was a silly young woman and I started flirting on a whim. He was a Doctor�"so competent, so capable at the top of his game. This was an era when we called Doctors Sir, never by their first names and would stand up to offer them our chairs when they entered the room. I was in awe of Dr Smith. He wasn’t a handsome man in fact he was bald and wore a toupee but he has charisma and I loved the smell of his cologne. I fantasized what it would be like to be married to a doctor�"the prestige, the easy living, a big house, no problems with money, no shift work. It wasn’t my goal in the beginning. I lusted after him and everything that he stood for. I wanted to be a powerful man’s mistress. My marriage was shaky. I wasn’t happy with Al as my husband. I wasn’t happy with myself so it’s doubtful whether anyone could have fulfilled that role but I didn’t know that then and blamed Al for being stuck in a marriage at 24 years old. I’m ashamed of my behaviour now but that’s only with the wisdom that comes with age. I assume I had unfinished emotional business with my Father and wanted a ‘sugar daddy’. I thought I found that in Ron. The relationship eventually fizzled out when I has the courage to tell him I was in love and he, much to his credit, was honest and said he wound never leave his wife.
. The affair was long over but I had never really processed the experience. I started to keep a journal and I made the call to DR kelly. I started having dreams where my entire family was dead and that AL was a clown covered in chains trying to keep me happy.
The first time I met Larry I went alone and decided that I was not going to wear any makeup because I would just cry it off and more importantly I wanted him to see the real me.
Al and I started to go to Larry…hand times, incriminations, crying, more journal writing. I felt liberated for the first time in my life I could write about what I was really feeling. I wrote about my affair with Ron and the hopes and heartache I had about that. I wrote about AL. About how I didn’t love hims as a husband anymore and that life short….i knew that now. I didn’t want to spend It with a man who I didn’t love. I wanted a separation to think about things.

Al read my journal. I can home from work to a sullen Al. I slept all day and the evening he said to me that is was he hardest thing that he has ever done but he wanted a divorce. Even though I wanted out of the marriage it was a very, very hard thing to go through. There was just so much loss. I had to go over to my parents house to tell them because I wanted to be the one to break the news. Telling my parents I was getting a divorce was on of the hardest things I’ve ever done. My Mother was furious with me..was this the Drs idea all alone. Like is was Larry’s fault. But this was the same woman who later told me that if they could have some reason to hate AL it would be easier.. So I forgave where she was coming fro but the truth is my parents were not initially supportive.
I read every book I could get my hands on about divorce and 2 parent homes. Crazy time was the name of one book and it was an apt title.

I looked up the name of a female lawyer in the yellow pages and went. She told me a couple things. First that if Al and I didn’t work out our stuff and we did it through the courts it was going to be expensive. Secondly that I was entitled to half of Al’s pension. I didn’t have any interest in Al’s money and I didn’t have a lot to spend. I had been parttime in the ER for a year or so and now I needed a fulltime job. I ended up obtained a fulltime job in the ICU where I has worked previously.
Al and I were able to write our own separation agreement, We were both of the mind that we wanted to make things as smooth as possible for Cameron. He was all we had left. Al told me he would fight me tooth and nai to have Cameron’r primary residence with him and I didn’t have the strength to fight. I felt so bad about myself as a Mother…I was responsible for Caity’s death..I agreed that Cameron’s primary residence would be with his Father and I would move out of the house. I felt that Al could do a better job than I could at that point,
I felt a little ripped off when the document came back to us basically unchanged but just translated into legal jargon.. Our separation agreement became final September 1988 and nothing really change because I couldn’t afford to move. Al and I lived in the same home, sleeping in the same bed as brother and sister until I left the home. At the time I was devastated. Periods of being unable to stop crying. A friend came for coffee one day I was inconsolable with grief…over Caity, over my marriage being over, fear for Cameron, fear for myself. My friend called my Mother who came to the house and told me to ‘pull yourself together and wash y our face’ Even my own family were becoming impatient with my grief. The underlying message was to get on with things Poor Al Nancy was crazy.

In 3 month I had lost Caity, my marriage, my role as primary caregiver to Cam, my home, my image of myself as a good Mother. The only thing I felt sure of was that I was a good nurse..or had been a good nurse. I was working fulltime 12 hour shifts in the ICU at SMGH. It was difficult for me to go back there to work but I was so grateful for the support of my colleagues mainly Leslie and Rita to name a few, They helped me to get through this time.

I moved out of the house during as icestorm if January 1989. Al. His brother Jim, my brother-in law Louie and my friend Scott McCurdie helped me move. I felt excited to be getting a place of my own. I had a nice apartment in Beechwood, a nice part of Waterloo. I had never had my own place before. I had never even had my own bedroom as I had always shared, first with my sister, then my husband, I did not live with AL before my marriage. I went from my Father’s home to my husbands. When all the furniture was moved in and it was time for everyone to go Cameron turned to look at me. His eyes were filled with tears. I said “ Its okay Cammie. Mommy will be over to read you a story tomorrow night at bedtime.” That’s all I had.
When they left and I was alone with Scott I collapsed on the floor. HE said : Whats the matter Nancy I thought you were looking forward to your own place.” Caity wasn’t there either.

I stopped counting my loss of Caity in days and instead marked the time in months. Every month that passed I felt I was coming closer to the magical milestone of the first year. Everything I read about grief told me the first year was the hardest so I hung on to the hope that I would start to feel better in a year. The first Mother’s Day I was in Jamaica. AL and I has sold the house and after paying off large debts we has incurred I was left with a substantial amount of money. I embarked on a mission to buy my way out of grief. I furnished an apartment, went to Jamaica on my own to an all inclusive holiday for 2 weeks to Montego Bay. No one told me that the first Mother’s day without Caity would feel like I was hit by a freight train. A wall of grief and longing to hold her, smell her…a physical ache for her. I attempted to party my way out of my feeling. I met people from all over the continent and didn’t tell any of them I was a bereaved parent. I was tired of wearing that coat. Everyone knew me at my work, everyone knew my story and watched me. One coworker told me to my face “ if you had been watching your baby this never would have happened.” There are not word to respond to something like that.

I was no longer the old Nancy. Things I believed has gone by the wayside. I could not reconcile Caity’s death with a merciful God. Yes, I had made mistakes in my life. I had an affair when I was younger but surely I wasn’t being punished for being human. I did not want any part of a God who would do that or an organized religion that promoted God at all.
Friend’s I had before Caity died did not know how to respond to me. Expand about friends






was no longer the same person. My values had changed. It was no longer so important to me to look good all the time. Having spent all that money, money was no longer that important. Who was I? What was the meaning to suffering…my suffering in particular but anyones suffering.
I could read once again and I read everything I could get my hands on….Viktor Frankl, When Bad things happen to good people, Finding Meaning in Loss and Grief..titles I don’t even remember anymore but anything to try to put my loss in perspective. I remember thinking If I can get through this loss I will never be afraid of anything again because I am living every parents biggest fear.

“ When we are no longer able to change a situation…we are challenged to change ourselves.”
Viktor Frankl

One year after Caity died I went on a Canadian Outward Bound wilderness adventure to test myself physically and emotionally. I wanted to see if I would be able to do it. It cost a lot of money and I took my sister Cathy along with me. Family members were not allowed to be in the same groups together for the actual excursion but we flew to Thunder Bay together. I received my notice of what gear you would need prior to leaving and went to Adventure Guide to buy my supplies. Scott took us to the airport and my bag was so heavy I was unable to lift it. We arrived at the Thunderbay airport and were greeted by a rag tag assortment of outdoorsy people. I thought to myself…what the hell have I gotten myself into? My idea of camping had been glamping! The name Outward Bound derives from the nautical expression that refers to the moment the ship leaved the pier. It’s motto ‘ To serve, to strive, and not to yield” is embodied in its teaching of interpersonal skills, wildeness survival skills, and leasership skills through its courses. Outward Bound learning expeditions aim to foster personal growth and social skills of participants by using challenging expiditions in the outdoors.
We were divided into small groups under the guidance of 2 instructors. Participants came from all walks of life and were between the ages of 25-50. Males and females.
We all boarded a bus and headed out 150 miles north of Thunderbay to Base camp at Black Sturgeon Lake. MY group has 2 leader Julia and Sue. When we arrived at the BaseCamp we were all given a very small ruck sack and told that whatever fit into the sack we could take with us and the rest of our stuff would have to remain behind. I had an extra large suitcase filled with my ‘necessary’ supplies. Before you are accepted to an Outward Bound you must have a complete physical and sign a disclaimer stating that in the event of a medical emergency you could wait 2-3 days for an evacuation. IN other words if you have an acute appendix you die.
You also had to check off whether you had any counselling in the previous year. I checked off marital counselling because I didn’t want to be deemed too unstable to go.
It was 10 days of punishing physical and emotional hell that I would do again in a heartbeat. I learned so much. How to paddle and portage a canoe, how to start a fire from deadfall, how to carry in enough food to camp for a week, how to cook pizza in the bush and how to white water kayak just to name a few. Turns out I’m terrific at reading a map. I’ve never been pushed physically so hard in my life.
We spent 2.5 days on a ‘solo’.You were paddled to a deserted island and left there with minimal provisions-a rope, tarp, sleeping bag, matches, hard tack, tea bag, oxo cube, and your tin cup and spoon.. IT was exhilarating to be on your own in the wilderness after 7 days with your group. I was so tired I slept for the entire first day in my sleeping bag. IT was cold the first night and I felt discouraged because I could not get a fire going. The second night I prepared all my deadfall wood in the way I had been taught, Birch bark for tinder, small branches to begin with then the larger wood. I was determined I was going to get a fire going and I did. That night with a big fire roaring and crackling in the dark I felt empowered in a way I hadnt felt in a long time.
The next morning we were all gathered back in silence and shared our impressions of our solo. I shared my story of Caitlin for the first time in a group-her brief life and death and all had learned so far. I knew from the responses I got from the others that I had a powerful story to tell.
When Scott picked us up at the airport I was able to carry my own suitcase.

“ We must not cease from exploration. And the end to all our exploring will be to arrive where we began to know the place for the first time.”
T.S. Eliot

There was eventually a lawsuit. We waited until Caity had been dead for almost 5 years. It was my ideas. I wasn’t motivated by money, in fact I knew that under the law children are not were not much financially. I was tired of blaming myself for something I wasn’t responsible for. Mu life had been ruined and in my mind the Blacks lives just went on as if nothing had happened. They still lived in their house with the pool. Their grandchildren and children would come over to swim. I was divorced and living in an apartment. Cam was having problems at school, acting out and aggressive with other kids. I still was hurting badly and ai thought that a lawsuit that assigned blame would be helpful for me.

I discussed this with Al and he knew that I was prepared to go ahead without him. He decided to file suit with me. We went to see a slick lawyer who has been recommended to me. I had asked if he was a good lawyer and my friend said “ No he’s a prick. It you want a nice guy go to Macdonalds. If you want to win chose him”
Went to meet with the lawyer and he said that we would have a good chance of winning the case and je would sue for a million dollars of damages. When we told him our story he said that you have all suffered, including Cameron. We will serve the papers immediately and pick a jury.
Al and I left thinking WOW this is serious. We had told out story and someone listened.
The Blacks son routinely cut their grass and like everyone emptied the lawn clippings in the greenbelt. To access this greenbelt he would have had to go through the pool gate in a chain linked fence that was to mu knowledge always kept closed and locked.

The day or two before Caity drowned he cut the lawn and must have forgotten to close to lock the gate.The Blacks would refute this, saying that Caity must have climbed the 6 foot tall chain link fence or opened the gate latch 4.5 feet from the ground. Al and I were no longer married but we has stayed as close as two people can be who have shared a mutual tragedy and parenting. Al was remarried and had a son with his new wife. Scott and I went to the wedding.
The night before my discovery Al and I met with a different lawyer who went over our statement’ asking questions every which way…how long was I in the house?…every time I told me story she tried to mess me up. Did I get the newspaper or the hamburger or the other way around? Was I in the habit of leaving my children alone in the backyard? Did I let my children play kn the street? HOW LONG WAS I IN THE HOUSE? It was terrible and this was my lawyer.
Truth was I didn’t know how long I was in the house. All of this happened before caity was dead and everything that happened before was overshadowed by what happened after.
I will never know how long I was in the house and this has haunted me for 28 years. Was it 2, 5, 10 minutes. I could have been better prepared for discovery but maybe there is really no way to be prepared.

It was in a large, tall’ office building in Kitchener and I was there with AL and Scott. Mu friendship with Scott has blossomed into a full on relationship and I was and am blessed to have him in mu life. I brought along the only possession I had of Cait, the old, slightly greyish teeshirt with the fading pink ribbon, it was all I had left and I hoped it would give me strength.
Clutching the undershirt I sat in a room with my stand in lawyer, the Black;s lawyer, and a stenographer. I had prepared a written statement that I had planned to read to be included in my deposition but was told I couldn’t use it because it would become a part of the exhibit.
My lawyer asked if I could recite it from memory and I said probably.

The questions were easy at first. What did I do for a living, how long had we lived at Ross Avenue. Slowly it circled into the day Caity died. All the sae questions that I was asked the night before although this time from an opposing lawyer. I was crying but still somehow able to get the words out. It was important to me to tell my story and have the words recorded.
Discovery is not like a trial where your lawyer can object but my lawyer stopped the proceedings a few times when I was overwhelmed.
There were questions about the solidity of my marriage. I had to tell them about the affair.
It was very hard and went on for 4 hours. Finally at the end of things while the recorded was still recording I said I would like to say few words. The other lawyer went berserk..” YOU cant say anything else I as done questioning you. I just talked over him.
I said that the loss of Caity was a loss of my present, past, and future and that not a day goes by when I don’t think about her and pray that she didn’t suffer at her end.
I said that my life as I knew it was over and that I has contemplated suicide as out for all the pain I experienced.

I had accomplished my goal and my comments went into the court record.’
Months passed and then it was Al’s turn. I don’t know what was said in there but our slick lawyer turned up and the whole thing lasted for less than an hour. Al couldn’t meet my eyes when he came out and I thought this doesn’t bode well. He told me later that the whole time was spent on our marriage and my affair as if that had any bearing on her death.
Finally many months later we got a call that there had been a settlement in the case. We had won. Al and I shared cheque for 45 thousand dollars and the lawyers share was 55 thousand.
We has won but in the end it felt hollow. Caity was still dead, I still didn’t feel any better and I has gone through all that trauma…revictimized. . I would never go through something like that again. It did not bring the resolution I was hoping for.

Many years later when I was working for the VON doing visiting nursing I received a call go to 168 Ross Avenue to see a Mr Black for chemotherapy disconnect. I told my office that I couldn’t go that I knew the Blacks and there was a conflict. Back and forth the telephone calls went between myself and the office. Finally I yelled, “ you don’t understand they killed my baby!”
That ws the last I heard of the Blacks.

I went back to school to pursue a BA in Religious and Woman’s Studies at the University of Waterloo. I never completed my degree but I wrote papers on Materal Grief and the Search for Meaning, The Feminine Face of God, and Mary Magdalene; Holy Harlot to Whole Human.
It was, of course, all part of my journey to find meaning in Caity’s death. Questions such as: What is the purpose of Caitys death? What is the purpose of suffering and did Caity suffer? Why couldn’t I save her? Other children drown and they are saved. Why did my child die?
I didn’t find the answers I was looking for from school or religion. Still Caity was dead and I continued to grieve. It was true, time and therapy with Larry Kelly working through my childhood issues was helpful but my grief was always a subtext.
Holidays, Mother’s day, the anniversary of Cait’s death, her birthday�"it got so that I dreaded the spring time itself because everything was a reminder.

I began stealing narcotics from the hospital. It helped to dull the pain. I initially only took them from the store of medications the patients come in with but eventually I started falsifying the narcotic record at work. I felt terrible about what I was doing but I couldn’t stop. I started doing a poor job. My mood became erratic and I was irritable. The narcotics caused me to be so constipated I needed enemas. But I felt free of the pain and guilt that had surrounded me for some many years. Caity was still dead but I was comfortably numb.
I went to my family doctor who told me it was time to get over Caity’s death and wrote me a prescription for LA and DA opioids. My arthritis and chronic back pain were bad.
I probably would have gone on like this for a long time or until I overdosed but one day, becoming suspicious of my behaviours Scott checked out my medication drawer. He google searched the names of the medications and confronted me with my drug use. I couldn’t deny it and in March of that year when the snow was melting on the ground I found myself in am inpatient 28 day rehab treatment at Homewood Heath Centre Guelph Ontario.

It was very difficult, not to give up the drugs but to admit to being a hospital nurse with a drug problem. They divided us up into groups and then subgroups with nurses and Doctors having a special group to themselves called Caduceus. There were people there from all over the world. A fellow inmate was an ICU nurse from St Catherines and when I made the tearful admission that I had been stealing drugs he said “ We don’t say stealing we say diverted” Yes, there were a******s there too. We got up every morning at 0630 and went for a hike on the hospital grounds, Breakfast followed and then a day filled with small groups regarding our drug problems. We were encouraged to share our stories and practice reflective writing.
I wrote about my life, Caity, and my drug use. I joined Narcotics anonymous. It was enlightening and humbling. I found a sponsor an old broad who wouldn’t take any nonsense from me. She didn’t; WE worked the 12 steps. I healed from my drug addiction and have been free of drugs for over 12 years.

I joined the Bereaved Families of Ontario and took some strength from other families who were suffering loss. I longed to talk to other Mothers especially who had lost their child especially those who has lost their child in an accidental death. It was a growth experience to me to help other people with their loss and for a while I offered private grief counselling. Trouble was I could never charge an money for peoples suffering so I went back to nursing in the community, I found myself doing palliative paediatrics. My experience with Caity gave me a special bond with parents who lost their children and an empathy for those who were scared going though treatment.

During a routine physical exam 15 years ago my family physician Mike Casey ordered an ultrasound to investigate heavy menstrual periods. Scott and I had never had any children of our own. We weren’t trying to conceive but were weren’t trying not to either. I had wondered why I never became pregnant after all our years together but I never pushed the issue. I honestly believed that Scott must have been sterile. I should have pushed the issue but I didn’t. Cameron was a handful to raise and I thought this must be the path for us in life to not have children together. We used barrier methods for birthcontrol, most times.
During the ultrasound the technician casually says to me “ How long have you had an IUD?”
I was surprised but figured she must be inexperienced. “ I don’t have an IUD. I had it removed by my obstetrician 15 year ago.” An uncomfortable silence filled the room as she continued to press the wand into my abdomen. I turned around to look at the screen and sure enough there was the distinct outline of a T shaped IUD.

I immediately felt like I was going to throw up. I was shocked and felt disbelief. How could this happen? All these years of Scott and I together with no children. I promptly marched to a local Urgent Care Clinic and requested a flat plate xray of my abdomen to confirm the presence of an IUD. The doctor on duty that night was Violet Shadd. Ironically the same doctor who came to tell us about Caity’s death. The xray confirmed the presence of an IUD.

First thing the next morning I went to Mike Casey’s office to ask if he could look through his records to see if he has referred me to an Obstetrician for an IUD insertion in the preceding 15 years as Mike does not insert IUD’s himself. There was no record of a referral. I left the officer feeling confused and starting to get angry. How did this happen? Dr Anderson the trusted Obstetrician who had delivered my babies has assured me that she has removed the IUD. What was I going to do? The more thought about the full ramifications of what this meant came to me. How unlucky can I be. My daughter died because of someones negligence and now my fertility had been stolen from me due to what? Negligence, oversight, a misguided judgement call? I just really couldn’t believe it but I knew one thing. I wanted it out.
Who did I want to see? Kitchener suddenly seemed very small and I knew that all the local Obstetricians wouldn’t believe my story.

Scott and I had been up to the hospital many times for what I worried were ectopic pregnancies or miscarriages due to the pain I experienced. I called Dr Anderson’s office to set up an appointment to speak with her about what had happened but she wouldn’t see me.
I wrote a letter of complaint to the College of Physicians and Surgeons and after much debate called a medical malpractice lawyer. Scott and I went to Toronto and met with the lawyer to tell him our story. He kept hammering home “ You didn’t go anywhere else to have the IUD inserted?” No, a woman remembers about her fertility and my family doctor’s records prove I wasn’t referred to anyone else. “Did you go out of province to have an IUD inserted?” That’s absurd. Surely my OHIP records they will prove I didn’t have an IUD inserted.
I saw an Obstetrician in Toronto who took me to the OR and removed an IUD that wsa deeply imbedded in my cervix and missing the IUD strings.
My OHIP records were found to be missing for period of 15 years but there were records of my multiple visits to Dr Kelly for counselling. My records of my hospital ER room visits were missing too.
We had our day in front of the College of Physicians and Surgeons review board in Toronto.
The board consisted of middle aged men in suits at the front of the room. Dr Anderson is there with her counsel absurdly holding an IUD and plastic vagina repeatedly taking the IUD in and out and saying loudly “ I took that IUD out.” Scott and I are there with our lawyer.
The tribunal speaks and says they have reviewed all the records (what records? Mine were all missing) and was it not possible that I had an IUD inserted after the time I had the previous IUD removed. NO.
Was it not true that you were under considerable emotional distress at the time Ms Bernhardt did you daughter just nit die tragically. Yes I was under emotional stress at the time but I would remember about my fertility.
Is it not true that you have had numerous visits with DR Kelly and suffer from Bipolar Disorder?
Yes that’s true but it’s been well controlled.
Thank you very much Ms Bernhardt we find in favour of Dr Anderson as you were under a great deal of stress and must have forgotten you had a new IUD inserted.
So we lost against the College of Physicians and Surgeons. There would be no lawsuit, no recourse. I was 45 years old. Too old to have more babies. I felt terribly let down by someone I trusted absolutely.

I had my first episode of hypomania within weeks of Caity dying. I didn’t know it was hypomania and in fact, it would take many more years to piece that together. I thought I was having an religious epiphany-a period of divine grace. I was sitting under the tree in our backyard, alone, feeling sad and depressed. It was fully summer and a hot day. I could smell cut grass and the angle of the sun had changed it was high in the sky. I sat in the ground with my back against the bark of that big old maple tree. Suddenly I felt embraced by a warmth, a deep sense of knowing that although things were bleak everything would work out the way it was meant to. I felt a deep interconnectedness with the tree, the earth, life and death. A sense of transcendent love. I felt it was Gods grace coming to help me get through this horrible time. I didn’t feel the need to go to church or embrace Jesus as my personal saviour. It was bigger than that.
I felt chosen and special. Like my suffering had meaning. I felt a deep purpose that I was to let my family and friends know that I was alright. I felt united with all those who suffer-the bereaved, the poor, the outcast. I thought that maybe I needed to go to India work with Mother Theresa! As I has never experienced anything like that before I felt very lucky and this expansiveness of mood helped to get me though those most difficult early weeks.
I have since learned that ‘Funeral Mania’ is a very real phenomena especially in people with bipolar disorder as a response to extreme stress.
Y

Author's Note

Again a first draft...ending not complete and structure of memoir undecided but I have the core story down. Please help me with feedback. Once again writing on an ipad this time, less than ideal. Peace. NancyB