After her first child was stillborn, Candy McVicar founded what has become a national resource for parents who have lost an infant.
Grace McVicar never got a chance to take a single breath, but her mother has turned the stillborn girl’s memory into an international center that supports others who have lost an infant.
Candy McVicar is the founder and driving force behind the Center for G.R.A.C.E., a resource and counseling center. More than 7,000 people a year contact the center, with calls ranging from mourning parents looking for a sympathetic ear to hospital chaplains seeking advice on how to relate to their patients.
“I didn’t set out to do all this,” McVicar said of the center, which holds counseling sessions, offers phone and online support to bereaved parents, hosts educational seminars for medical personnel and sends care baskets to families.
“I didn’t want Grace’s death to be in vain — I wanted her to have a lasting impact. But I was looking to partner with someone who was already doing this. I couldn’t find anyone else. I still get calls from people saying that we’re the only facility like this in the country.”
The 4,000-square-foot center in Rogers includes a library, play area for children, gift shop and meeting rooms, including one with a vaulted ceiling that can be used for funerals.
Knowing that grieving families often struggle with mundane tasks like grocery shopping, there’s a communal kitchen where “the refrigerator is always stocked and people are welcome to eat whatever they want,” said McVicar.
The center focuses on helping families that have experienced a miscarriage, stillbirth or had a baby die before its first birthday. (There are other support organizations that focus on children’s deaths.)
In addition to being her daughter’s name, the center’s acronym stands for Grieve, Restore, Arise, Commemorate and Educate.
It’s not a coincidence that grieve is listed first. The worst thing that a bereaved parent can do is skip the grieving.
“There are people who try to pretend that it didn’t happen — they just try to move on with their lives,” McVicar said. “They’re the ones who come to us years later with even bigger problems. If you don’t deal with it, it will deal with you.”
Although there’s no right or wrong way to grieve, she said, the McVicars had a funeral for Grace and buried her in a cemetery that they visit as a family. She believes that such things help bring closure to the mourning, which is why she makes the center available for memorial services.
“We want people to feel affirmed and validated in their right to grieve,” she said.
The reaction outside the center often is the opposite. In fact, shortly after Grace was stillborn, the McVicars noticed that some of their friends pulled away from them.
“My husband and I would discover after the fact that there had been a party that we hadn’t been invited to,” she said. “People don’t want to be reminded that life is fragile.”
Some bereaved parents drive hundreds of miles to get to Rogers. And they keep calling, not only from all over the country but also from Asia, the United Kingdom and Australia.
Counseling parents who have lost a baby might sound like a depressing mission, but McVicar insists that it’s not. One of the first things she tells callers is that their sadness needn’t be permanent.
“There definitely will be a day when you will have joy again,” said McVicar, who since Grace’s death has given birth to two healthy daughters.
The center was one of the first places that Hallie Hoppe took her newborn son, Hudson. It was where she had wrestled with her grief after her first son was stillborn, and it was where she wanted to share the joy of Hudson’s arrival.