Grief never really goes away. Over time, it becomes easier to bear and the intensity decreases. When it returns, sometimes it lingers for days or weeks as a dark weight, and other times, it slaps you in the face like a cold shock. Seeing my daughter’s birth certificate for the first time was the last. There was her beautiful name. And mine. And a plain white, blank space where her father’s name should have been. An empty space… as if it had never existed or as if it did not need to be recognized and remembered. Seeing this took the wind out of me. I knew it was coming, but I couldn’t believe it. Andrew and I met in our 30s and fell in love quickly and quickly. We both had past relationships that weren’t the best and were looking for the right person to spend our lives with and start a family with. Ever since we were growing up, we knew we wanted to have kids right away. I knew from the way Andrew interacted with our niece and nephew that he would be an amazing father. But for us, conception was not easy and we soon found ourselves patients at a fertility clinic. After a few unsuccessful treatments, we discovered that Andrew was sick. Going to Calgary Flames games was one of the things Tanya Brown, right, and husband Andrew loved to do as a couple. (Tanya Brown) After an amazing summer spent camping, golfing and playing hockey, Andrew started complaining of heartburn that wouldn’t go away. That was his only symptom. When we found out it was cancer, he froze his sperm so we could try again for children after his chemotherapy. However, we soon learned how aggressive his cancer was and six months later, Andrew was admitted to palliative care. It was then that we discussed his wishes.
“He wanted me to get pregnant after he left”
His greatest wish for me was to continue living a full life. He put a down payment on a puppy for me so I wouldn’t be alone after he died. And, if it was right for me, Andrew wanted me to try to conceive after he left. He feared that his legacy would simply be cancer and his tragic, untimely demise. He wanted me to create the family we’ve always dreamed of and have his child. This child would be a part of him that would live on. I knew right away I was going to try and started the process six months after his death. After dozens of appointments, hundreds of injections, countless pills and many disappointments, I finally had a daughter with our last embryo. Tanya Brown and her daughter, Abigail, camping. (Tanya Brown) In June our beautiful baby girl was born. She is the light of my life and it’s uncanny how much she looks like her father. But I found out during the last month of my pregnancy Alberta did not allow her father’s name on the birth certificate because he was taken posthumously. It was overwhelming to hear at the time and horrible news to deliver to his family. Once my daughter was born, I knew I had to fight to change that – both for us and for future parents who might find themselves in the same situation. There are complex reasons for this government policy in terms of family law and estate law — none of which apply to us because Andrew specifically gave his consent for me to use his sperm to create embryos after his death. So I took some advice from friends who know the legal system and started the process of representing myself in a case to change her birth certificate. Being a single mom to a newborn isn’t easy. Standing in line at the courthouse, watching online court sessions and writing affidavits is definitely not the way I wanted to spend the first few months of my daughter’s life. But every time I looked at her and saw her father’s eyes looking back at me, I knew I had to keep trying. For her and for him.
Fighting for Andrew’s legacy
Finally, we had our hearing on August 31st. Family court can be heavy and difficult and we were scheduled last on the docket. By the time the judge got to our case, I was tired and Abby was cranky. The judge told us that she had left the easiest case for last and I think she wanted to end her session on a positive note. He simply said, “Ms. Brown, your order has been placed.” Tanya Brown says the resemblance between her daughter Abigail, right, and her late husband, Andrew, is uncanny. (Tanya Brown) Those few simple words meant that Abby could have her father back. He would always be with us in spirit and he will always know who he was, but now, legally, he is her father. Once again, I was stunned into silence. But I quickly thanked the judge. Things are a little more real when written in black and white. The order recognizes Andrew as her father and requires Vital Statistics to issue a new birth certificate with his name on it. My therapist once explained that there are generally two types of people when it comes to grief: those who feel and those who do. I’m practical. I set out to put Andrew’s name on her birth certificate. And now that we have Abby’s new birth certificate on the way, I feel like I can finally enjoy the wonder that she is – her daddy’s legacy. A spokesman for Alberta Service Minister Nate Glubish was unable to respond to the CBC by the time of publication. In a statement to Global News three weeks ago, he said, “This is a complex issue involving many areas of law, including family law, property law and vital statistics. I believe this issue deserves further review and I have directed my department to look into this so we can determine the best way forward.” Tanya Brown is a Calgary mother who successfully fought to have her late husband’s name added to their daughter’s birth certificate. Now she’s advocating to change the Alberta law for other widows and widowers in the same position. Do you have a strong opinion that could add insight, shed light on a topic in the news, or change the way people think about an issue? We want to hear from you. Here is how to introduce us.
