After COVID-19 pandemic, burial service for miscarried babies resumes in New Albany

Ben Wissel, a member of the New Albany Knights of Columbus #1221 Council, second from right, recites a poem during a burial service for miscarried babies—whose tiny caskets seen in the background were built by the Knights—at Holy Trinity Cemetery in New Albany on July 14. The service was led by Conventual Franciscan Father Mark Weaver, pastor of St. Mary Parish in New Albany, at right. (Photo by Natalie Hoefer)

By Natalie Hoefer

NEW ALBANY—Kara Garrison wiped the tear tracing down her cheek as the poem “Little Angel Unknown” was read aloud. Behind the man reciting the poem were 109 tiny caskets placed around a Pietà statue, each holding the precious remains of a miscarried child.

Having spent 14 years as a nurse on the Women’s Services unit at Baptist Health Floyd hospital in New Albany, Garrison saw more than just small boxes.

“It’s just devastating when you have a young couple who’s just lost their hopes and dreams,” she said. “It’s devastating for everyone.”

The recitation of the poem was part of a burial service for the 109 short-lived lives held in an outdoor pavilion at Holy Trinity Cemetery in New Albany on July 14.

While such services have typically been held there quarterly since 2017, this was the first one to be held in more than two years due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

New Albany Catholic Cemeteries (NACC) director Teri Popp was overjoyed to see the burial services resume.

“This is the mission of the Church,” she said. “We do this because we should.”

‘Doing the just thing’

When Popp became NACC director in September of 2016, she envisioned creating a plot for children of 22 weeks or less gestation who were miscarried at a local hospital.

She reached out to what was then Floyd Memorial Hospital. At the time, the facility cremated miscarried fetal remains and discarded them as biohazardous waste.

“I told them that, at zero cost to them, we would take the miscarried babies and give them a private burial service and place them into a small mass grave,” said Popp. “But they didn’t want to mix religion and state.”

Just one month later, Baptist Health Floyd bought Floyd Memorial.

“I called the hospital and spoke with them, and they had been struggling with what to do with the babies,” Popp recalls. “With their religious background, they have more of an understanding that babies should be treated with respect from the time of conception.”

Popp said providing the priest-led burial service—which includes prayer, Scripture, song and a blessing of the caskets with holy water—is “doing the just thing.”

Of the three NACC locations, she chose Holy Trinity, an “old Irish cemetery” founded in 1929, for the mass grave.

But every project has a price, and Popp was worried about where to find funding.

Enter the Ancient Order of Hibernians (AOH), a Catholic Irish organization.

“This is an Irish cemetery, and the Hibernians are based on faith, unity and Christian charity,” said Frank McPhillips, charity committee chairman of AOH

Fr. Abram J. Ryan Division 1 in Louisville, Ky., and a member of St. John the Baptist Parish in Starlight. “Within five weeks, we had the funding approved.”

The organization now donates yearly to the cause.

“It’s something that we are very proud of being able to offer to the community,” he said.

Burying the dead is one of the Church’s seven corporal acts of mercy. But the service and small mass grave site also help the living, said Kelsey Marshall, bereavement coordinator for Baptist Health Floyd.

“It really does provide closure to [hospital] staff to know that these babies are being laid to rest and that their lives are being honored,” she said.

‘They immediately stepped up’

Since the first burial service in April 2017, 327 babies “have been rescued from the biohazard waste dump,” said Popp.

But issues from the COVID-19 pandemic caught up, and the quarterly services ended in May of 2021.

When the burial date was finally set for July, Popp didn’t have an exact count of the number of miscarried babies to be laid to rest. But after more than two years with no burials, she knew it would be “a lot.”

Not only was she unsure of the number of caskets needed, she also didn’t know where they would come from.

“The hospital didn’t have the resources to build the boxes for the babies this time,” said Popp. “So, I called the Knights of Columbus [in New Albany], and they immediately stepped up.”

With the organization’s focus on faith, family, community and life, the request “was obviously right in our wheelhouse,” said Mike Carter, a past Grand Knight of the city’s Knights of Columbus (K of C) Cardinal Ritter #1221 Council. “We were more than happy to help give these babies a proper burial.”

Kits to make the boxes were sent to K of C member Ron Webber, whose woodshop became assembly-central.

“As soon as we put the word out to the Knights, 11 people came out of the woodwork—all different ages and backgrounds—and wanted to be involved,” he said.

In less than a week, the men had cut the wood and assembled the small boxes.

“It was good fellowship for us, just to know what we were a part of,” said Webber.

All told, the Knights built about 250 boxes, enough for the 109 babies buried in July—more than double the previous high count—and for several burial services to come.

‘A sign of our trust in his providence’

It was hot and humid as Popp and others placed the 109 little boxes around the Pietà statue in Holy Trinity Cemetery’s outdoor pavilion on July 14. But the afternoon’s heat did not prevent nearly 50 people from coming to the service—by far the highest attendance since they began, said Popp.

Among them were members of the New Albany Knights of Columbus and representatives of the AOH in Louisville.

Several of those present were staff members from Baptist Health Floyd, including Kelly Owsley, clinical coordinator for the hospital’s Women’s and Children’s Services.

“I’m Catholic,” said Owsley, a member of Our Lady of Perpetual Help Parish in New Albany. “So, it was important for me to see that these babies were laid to rest and not just considered products of conception.”

Right to Life of Southern Indiana (RTLSI) president Doris Corby and members of the organization’s board also attended the service.

“We wanted to come to honor these babies, these lives,” said the member of St. John Lutheran Church in Lanesville. “They didn’t have long on this Earth, but they lived on this Earth, and they need to be honored.”

Denny Voelker, an RTLSI board member and parishioner of St. Mary Parish in Lanesville, agreed.

“The service and burial give more integrity to the fact that each baby was a life,” he said. “And all life has purpose.”

The service was led by Conventual Franciscan Father Mark Weaver, pastor of St. Mary Parish in New Albany. It included Scripture, a hymn and a reading of the poem that brought tears to the eyes of Garrison and others.

Before sprinkling the small caskets, Father Mark blessed the water, “asking that the Lord use it, that it be a sign of the baptism that we have received and our trust in the Lord. And also a sign of our trust in his providence over our lives. We entrust these little ones to his providence.”

‘It can just give so much comfort’

After the service, many of those present silently and solemnly carried the boxes from the pavilion to the gravesite.

Garrison, Owsley and Marshall consoled each other after the service.

“Caring for these families and babies can just be emotionally and physically draining in the sense that we, too, feel the loss and the sadness of these families,” said Marshall.

“As time moves forward, we never forget them, and we never forget their stories. There were many instances flashing through my mind during the ceremony. It’s always a sweet remembrance of that bond that we build with these families that have come into our lives through unfortunate circumstances.”

Garrison was as visibly moved after the service as she was during it.

“Grief is tough,” she said with a heavy sigh. “So, it’s nice to have someplace where you can come back and visit and basically work through those stages.”

Her words ring true not just for hospital staff, but for family members of the miscarried babies, too.

“I send people home, and they’re not at their best,” said Garrison. “They’re working through those processes. When you lose a baby in miscarriage, you may not be able to make certain decisions.

“But when the community steps in and creates this space, it can just give so much comfort.” †