Family Helps Mother Cope with Multiple Losses
By Luke Schmaltz, VOICES Newsletter Editor
Karina Sosa works in human relations and bookkeeping for the healthcare industry. She shares insight into coping with two distinct types of grief. She lost a child during her first pregnancy in 2010. In June 2024 she lost her aunt to substance-use-related issues.
“I had a very difficult pregnancy,” Sosa begins. “Because of the issues with the baby’s health, I was admitted to the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. It was my first child, and I was so excited. I asked the doctors normal questions such as, ‘How much does the baby weigh?’ and they were dismissive and told me that it didn’t matter.”
“I was told that my baby had a condition that was, in most cases, fatal. These were doctors who knew the odds but regardless of what the statistics said, I am a woman of faith. My mother is a pastor, I was raised in the church, and I believe that miracles can happen. I said, ‘Whatever happens, it is in God’s hands.’ They discovered there was no heartbeat, and they induced labor. I had to come to the realization that their diagnosis was right.”
Life After Death
“It took me many years to come to terms with that loss,” Sosa explains. “It affected a lot of my family, especially my mother and my aunt. But since then, I have been blessed with three kids.”
“Having more children is what helped me cope with the loss. Soon after, I had what we call my ‘rainbow baby.’ Before, I didn’t get to experience the connection of motherhood. My daughter was also a high-risk pregnancy, but when she arrived, things changed for me, and I could not dwell on the past.”
“As time went on, my daughter helped me realize that the previous experience served a purpose, it made me who I am, but I still had to be a mother. I needed to be present for her rather than stuck in the past. That’s how I found the strength and spirituality to move forward, even though I was angry for a long time.”
“I thought about all the other mothers who experienced a loss like mine and didn’t get to have another child.”
Putting in the Work
“I did a lot of therapy and went to support groups. Hearing other people’s stories who experienced what I went through helped me. The type of loss I experienced happens more often than you would think, and a lot of people don’t want to talk about it. I realized I could be of service to other mothers by helping them navigate the medical system and by assuring them there is light at the end of the tunnel – even with a burden of loss that seems too great to carry.”
Sosa expands on the tenets of effective peer support. “It takes accountability,” she says. “You have to show up with the realization that this is too much to deal with on your own. We think we are tough, and we are not. It doesn’t matter what you’ve seen, where you’ve been, or how strong you are – nothing can prepare you for loss. Whether you find support online, through Facebook groups, or wherever – it helps to speak with others you can relate to. You can find out how they cope and maybe those ways will work for you.”
“Because I was raised in the church, that was the easiest way for me – prayer, services, and Bible study. But there are support groups available through different channels such as hospitals and community outreach groups. I know what worked for me, but there needs to be more awareness about the support that is available.”
Family Matters
“My mother emigrated to the U.S. from Colombia with my aunt. They landed in New Jersey and migrated to the Lawrence/Methuen area where I was born. My father was from the Dominican Republic, but he was deported when I was six months old. Since my aunt was my mom’s sidekick, she helped raise me. She taught me how to take my car to the mechanic and how to change the oil – she was very involved in our lives. We would watch soccer together for hours and she taught my kids Spanish. My daughter said my aunt was her best friend.”
“When I was younger, I don’t remember my aunt being too much of a drinker. My mom separated us from that because of her religious beliefs. As I grew older, I would ask her to babysit from time to time, and she always had me drop by the liquor store before dropping her off at home.”
“She was a hard worker, very loving, and she had a strong character. Nobody could tell her what to do. At one point, when I would call for help with my kids, she would not be able to come, saying she didn’t feel good. I would drop by her house and all the shades would be drawn closed. After a year of very little contact, other than her stopping by my mom’s to ask for money, we noticed a decline. She was skinnier and obviously drinking a lot.”
“My mom asked my aunt to come live with her, but my aunt refused. She was getting so drunk that she was falling down all the time, being belligerent, asking people for money, and the neighbors were calling the police. In that year, things escalated quickly. She pushed herself away and sank into a depression where drinking was all she wanted to do.”
“The aunt I knew, Veronica, who would come to my home and help me with my kids, had changed. I gave her space but when we saw that she was hurting herself, we tried to intervene. She declined and became angry and disrespectful towards us. It was hard to help her because she was so difficult to be around.”
Loss and Support
“In June of last year, she had a really bad fall in the street. She declined help from the ambulance and went back home, but she was still drunk. I went to see her, and I knew she was not OK. She had shattered her arm and needed surgery. We were in the hospital, and as the alcohol was wearing off, she began to hallucinate that the place was crawling with spiders. She was in the early stages of alcohol-induced dementia.”
“Prior to surgery, they released her to me. She was in withdrawals and her attitude was a bit rough around the edges, but we got her cleaned up. She slept in my house, I monitored her, I administered her medication, but she always wanted to leave.”
“It wasn’t even two weeks after she got back home that she died in her apartment,” Sosa explains.
“It was horrible. I think about her all the time. I knew she drank, but I didn't know she was dependent on it to such a degree. During that last year, and especially with her arm broken, she gave up. She did not want help; she pushed us away and we lost her.”
As Sosa and her family grieve the loss of her aunt, they lean on one another for support. “We talk about it a lot; we share,” she says, “If I have a dream about her or if I am missing her a lot, I will call one of my sisters or I will talk to my daughter about it. We watch videos of the family together. We wonder aloud what she would be doing if she were with us at any given moment. That helps us a lot.”
“What also helps is to know that she is no longer in pain. She had a lot of emotional suffering that she never talked about. Instead, she chose to isolate which eventually led to this outcome.”
Caution and Courage
“I know I could just as easily go down this rabbit hole,” Sosa admits. “I also had an aunt die on my dad’s side from an overdose, so I carry this in my DNA. Substance use helps in the moment, but as soon as the high goes away, you regret it, and you feel guilty. It becomes a circle and there is no happy ending. Anyone can easily spiral out of control and the effects are long lasting. It affects everyone around you, your coworkers, your parents, your kids, your friends.”
“I have been keeping busy with work and focusing on my personal growth. Otherwise, I can’t be a good mom or a good sister. I am no good to anybody if I am not watering my own seeds. I believe I was chosen to bring light, to speak to people about mental health, and raise awareness about substance use before it turns into addiction. I owe that to my aunt.”