Shamong residents Kristie and Tim Worrell lost their baby girl, Darby Grace, before she even entered the world.
Due in May 2013, Worrell began to have light Braxton Hicks contractions on April 7. Already the mother of three, she was not overly concerned. She and her husband didn’t rush in getting to the hospital.
What they didn’t know was Worrell suffered an abruption, most likely caused by preeclampsia, and that Darby had died in utero.
“She was gone within five minutes,” Worrell said. Her abruption was one of the 1 percent with “no show,” meaning there was no bleeding and, in her case, no indication anything was wrong.
Worrell was 35 weeks along and Darby was almost five pounds, but because of the way she died, there was nothing that could be done.
“So I had this healthy, almost full-term baby, who just died,” Worrell said.
The Worrells now have four children — Jonah, 13, Ella, 12, Piper, 6, and Bodie, 9 months — but Darby is still very much a part of their family.
“Darby is somebody who’s talked about in our family almost every single day, even with our friends,” Worrell said. “She doesn’t just go away.”
Worrell would like to see this open dialogue — not just about Darby, but about stillborn babies in general — be a common practice. Stillbirth shouldn’t be a taboo topic, she said.
“I just think it’s important that people know this happens. There are resources for after it happens. There are grief support groups,” Worrell said. “I don’t want to be depressing, but I want people to realize that this is something that’s out there. It’s sad, but it’s true. And you never think that something like this is going to happen to you.”
Honoring Darby
After losing Darby, Kristie and Tim discussed ways to remember their daughter.
“We asked what we could do to honor this baby that didn’t have a chance,” Worrell said, “but we just couldn’t come to terms (at the time).”
Their mission for Darby happened almost organically.
First, it was suggested they take part in The Promise Walk for Preeclampsia in Cherry Hill, which is now an annual event for the family. At the event this year on May 3, the Worrells are the mission family and will be sharing Darby’s story with the walk participants.
Second, Worrell became aware of Cuddle Cots through Stories Of Babies Born Still, an online grief support group she joined after losing Darby. The device, which looks like a bassinet, acts like a refrigerator, cooling down and helping to preserve a deceased baby so a family has more time to grieve.
Worrell knows a Cuddle Cot could have helped her family the day Darby died.
Once they knew Darby was gone, but while she was still in utero, the hospital staff asked the Worrells if they would like to hold the baby or have a photographer visit the room.
The Worrells steadfastly refused — at first.
Then, when Darby was out, the “whole story changes,” she said. They wanted to spend time with the daughter they would never get to know.
“Once she’s there and you know you’re never going to see her again,” Worrell said, pausing. “How can you ever really prepare?”
Cuddle Cots
When Darby was born, she “looked like any other baby, except her eyes weren’t open and she wasn’t breathing,” Worrell explained. For six hours, they kept Darby with them. But during that time, changes began to happen.
“You want to remember how she was,” Worrell said.
That’s where a Cuddle Cot comes in.
“Instead of sending the baby down to the morgue to be refrigerated, your baby can cool down in the Cuddle Cot,” Worrell said.
When the Worrells were finalizing funeral plans at the end of the day, they were asked if they would like to see Darby again. They did and, because she was preserved in the cold in the morgue, she looked the same.
“She hadn’t changed from the moment I gave her back,” Worrell said.
With a Cuddle Cot, they could have kept Darby with them longer in the hospital room, largely unchanged. It would have given more time for closure and more time for family members to get to the hospital to say goodbye.
When Worrell first presented her idea to a local hospital, she was shut down. The idea of a baby getting colder faster seemed like a bad one for grieving parents, the employee told Worrell. But once Worrell explained her case — her experience with Darby and the idea behind a Cuddle Cot — the hospital was more receptive.
“I know that a Cuddle Cot won’t preserve a baby that well,” Worrell said. “But if it can give a family another hour, two hours, a day … It’ll be there in case they do need it. In case they do want it.”
Fundraising
Each Cuddle Cot costs about $3,100. Worrell would like to donate a cot to Virtua Memorial Hospital first — since it’s where Darby was born — and, if she continues to raise more money, to other area hospitals.
“It’s still going to happen. No matter how you try to hide it, it happens,” Worrell said. “I think to support a family after such a loss is a big deal. I think it needs to be done.”
Worrell is raising money for the Cuddle Cot through fundraisers, such as a Dine and Donate at the Red Lion Inn in Southampton from 3 to 9 p.m. on Thursday, March 5, and a GoFundMe campaign page (www.gofundme.com/cuddlecotfromdarby). Family and friends have been instrumental in the fundraising, too, Worrell said. The first funds raised were through a surprise raffle Worrell’s friends organized, netting $1,400 in donations. Recently, her best friend, Christine Hewitt, hosted a vendor party at her home, with all profits donated.
Worrell is working directly with SOBBS and its U.S. Cuddle Cot Campaign Initiative. The money raised through the GoFundMe page is donated directly to the non-profit, which will make the purchase of the Cuddle Cot when the goal is reached.
Worrell said, even if she doesn’t raise enough money for a Cuddle Cot, she’s glad she is getting the word out there that they are available and needed in the community.
“Everybody has their own mission in life. I think now the preeclampsia walk and the Cuddle Cot will become ours,” Worrell said, “just because they’re close to our hearts.”
