After an infant loss, Iranian mothers and fathers tend to put on stoic faces and resume their normal life because it is expected of them. One woman reported her child died of SIDS while in Iran. She said the way she worked through it was by trying to be normal: “I con- tinued to work and that is how I coped. I did not really grieve my child’s death, I had to go on.”


From a psychotherapy point of view, emotions eventually emerge if not expressed at the time of the loss. It’s not unusual for a physical manifestation of these losses. I witnessed this in my mother. Throughout much of her life after her two children died of SIDS, my mother suffered from dizzy spells and at times, especially if she was under stress or she would hear of somebody who died, she would lose her coordination. The dizzy spells appeared after the first loss. Loss of coordination appeared after the second loss. She never recovered from these symptoms.


The FIMR home interview can provide an important service for Iranian bereaved mothers. During the interview, the mother finally has an opportunity to talk about her loss privately with a sympathetic, nonjudgmental listener and to express her feelings about it. This is an opportunity she may never have in her own family and community. She also has the opportunity to ask questions about why the baby died and, if appropri- ate, to be reassured she did everything possible for the baby.


Finally, a uniquely Iranian support for the bereaved that can be provided is poetry. Iranians love and appreciate poetry and often use metaphors and poetry to provide solace. Many times poems and poetry describe the emotions parents are feeling but find it hard to express. Offering poems and prayers will be appreciated when it comes from the heart.


EXCERPT FROM AN IRANIAN POEM: SELF-AWARENESS To the Memory of my son, a broken branch


In the clear throat of the seashells, like the sun shining through the garden of water, blossom the delicate buds of pearls.


When it came that you should not be I cursed the wind in the alley and the kite in the wind.


Whom shall I call each day opening the window that in past winters framed your playful commotion? Whom shall I call without him coming?


Oh, the hunter of colors, how many branches are there between us? How many flowers?


Manouchehr Atashi, Iranian Poet 1921–2005. To read this beautiful poem in its entirety, go to http://www.alizarrin.com/page10.html


VOICES FROM THE COMMUNITY: CROSS CULTURAL EXPRESSIONS OF GRIEF AT THE LOSS OF AN INFANT


47


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