‘He was a beautiful little boy’

He heals the broken-hearted and bandages their wounds. Psalm 147:3

For Chris and Laurel Meester, the Old Testament’s promise of compassion has been instrumental in navigating the grief they’ve felt since the death of their son, Matthias.

Matty, as he was called, was 11 weeks old when he died of Sudden Unexplained Infant Death Syndrome on April 9.

In the days since, the couple has relied on their faith and the support of friends and family.

There is no shortage of either.

The faith

Chris is an associate pastor at Trinity Lutheran Church in Owatonna, and Laurel is an associate pastor at First Lutheran Church in Blooming Prairie.

“They both have a brother who is a pastor, and they both have a father who is a pastor,” said the Rev. Joe Midthun, Laurel’s brother.

“They also are both in churches where there are other pastors,” he said, “so I just think that’s been a big help for them, in terms of their own faith and in terms of the logistics of everything that has happened.”

Scott Meester, one of Chris’s two brothers, is an emergency medicine and sports medicine physician in Columbus, Ohio.

While he “broke the tradition” of becoming a minister, “I think if you asked any of us, the idea that Matty is being held by Jesus at this point gives us a certain amount of confidence and strength to deal with it,” Meester said.

He hadn’t had the opportunity to meet his nephew in person, just over FaceTime in the first days after Matty’s Jan. 19 birth.

“We were planning to come out for his baptism, which was going to be later this summer,” Meester said. “That’s kind of my haunting thing, that I never made it out there. The first time I held him was when they asked me to help carry the casket down the aisle at his funeral. That was hard.”

Matty was born several weeks premature and spent just over two weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit at Methodist Hospital in Rochester.

“He was early, but healthy,” Midthun said. “There were no underlying (health) conditions. Once he was released, he started meeting his (growth and development) milestones and was doing really well.

“They definitely thought they had been through the worst of it,” he said.

The support

Midthun had met his nephew once.

“He was a beautiful little boy, and there was a lot of hope,” he said. “In this situation, what I will remember about him is the people who were around him, and how he brought two communities together.”

His sister and her husband, Midthun said, “are very compassionate people who care very deeply about others,” as indicated by the outpouring of support after Matty’s death.

It included members of churches Chris and Laurel had served in Iowa.

“They spoke of specific things (the couple) did to show kindness to them,” Midthun said. “It’s your job as a pastor, of course, but people know the difference between someone just doing their job and someone who really cares.

“They’re supported on all sides,” he said, “not just by the (other) pastors, but the churches and the communities, too.”

The support also extended to their daughter Eliora’s daycare.

The communities of Owatonna and Blooming Prairie “have been fantastic” to Chris and Laurel, Meester said. “They said that multiple times, about the outpouring of messages and cards.”

It has given them “hope and some strength, knowing that they are loved, too,” he said. “They stressed that Matty was loved; he’s safe and in heaven, and they just want to express their thanks to everybody.”

Still, Midthun and Meester both said, their families recognize not everyone is as fortunate, and it isn’t all about religion.

“For those who don’t have that belief, I hope they can live knowing – as I knew about my nephew – that every second he was here, he was loved,” Scott Meester said. “That’s comforting. He never knew hunger, he never knew fear, he never knew anything but love.”

Sharing his sister’s story, said Midthun, “is a reminder of the support that sometimes other people don’t get. For every story that’s told about a Chris and a Laurel, there’s probably a number of people who wonder why they didn’t get a story, and why they didn’t have support.

“Hopefully, as people hear their story, they find a way to support those who might not be so fortunate,” he said.

The mission

There’s another purpose for sharing Matty’s story: awareness.

There was a sharp decline in SUID cases in the United States following the release of the American Academy of Pediatrics safe sleep recommendations in 1992.

In 1990, there were about 155 SUID deaths per 100,000 live births; by 2011, that number fell to about 86 per 100,000. It has since climbed to about 101 per 100,000 in 2022, the most recent numbers released by the Centers for Disease Control.

The increase has been linked to cases of accidental suffocation and strangulation in bed – often as a result of sleeping in an adult bed.

That was not the case with the Meesters.

“You can do everything right – which Laurel did – and there’s always a chance it will happen – as it did,” said Midthun. “That’s why it’s ‘sudden, unexplained.’ They don’t know. Matty was not on his stomach, there were no blankets.”

To that end, it’s the family’s wish that there is purpose in their grief.

“There are a few different organizations that research and study this,” said Meester, “including the American SIDS Institute. We want to give yearly and in honor of Matty in the future.”

Though not his area of medical expertise, he has seen a few studies recently that are “encouraging, in terms of looking specifically at the chemical processes in the brain that could be contributing to this,” Meester said. “There is certainly still research being done, and plenty of paths to continue to look into.”

While there is a GoFundMe to provide financial support to the family, “I don’t think Laurel wants people to hear her story and necessarily give money to them,” Midthun said.

“If that’s in their heart to do, that’s wonderful, but I think even more, she’d like them to hear her story and donate to first responders, or to nurses in Rochester, or just be a little nicer to someone because you don’t know what they’re experiencing,” he said.

“I think that’s what really would fill their hearts.”

The message

Their nephew’s death has shaped their own future, both men said.

“Sometimes the ‘assembly line’ of quick fixes in emergency medicine is not the right process,” said Meester. “I think this is going to change me – I want it to change me, to have more compassion and take more time, even with kids that are healthy.

“I certainly think it’s going to change who I am as a whole person, let alone how I practice medicine.”

As a minister, Midthun has officiated at funerals for other people’s children, “and it changes your perspective when you’re the one being cared for, instead of being the one who cares for others,” he said.

“It made me incredibly proud to be a part of Laurel and Chris’s communities, to be a part of our family, and honestly, very proud to be a Lutheran pastor, and see how the churches support each other.”

Meester falls back on his religion, too, and says the biggest message “is that God loves us, even in these terrible times. We need to cherish every moment that we get with our loved ones.

“Matty was loved every second of the day, and always cared for, and we need to make sure we do that with everybody, not just family,” he said. “Spread love and compassion to people, and know that even when tragedy strikes, God is good and in control, and we’ll all be together again.”

Midthun reiterated the hope that others who are grieving “open themselves up to the possibility that people will love them” through the pain.

“There will always be grief and loss,” he said, “and I think Laurel would say, ‘the more we can learn, the more we can understand, and the more we can support other people,’ especially new moms and people who are grieving.

“The more we can care for other people, the better off we’ll be.”

How to Help the Meester Family

• Donations can be made in honor of Matthias to The American SIDS Institute

• A GoFundMe has been set up for the Meester family, in honor of Matthias.