'ANGEL' HELPS PARENTS SURVIVE HORROR.

Byline: DENNIS McCARTHY 

There are times, bad times, when she wants to quit, Heather Aitken says - times when she can't bear the thought of picking up the telephone in her Woodland Hills home and making one more phone call to one more grieving mother who has just lost a child to the sudden infant death syndrome or other abrupt killer.

Her kids see the look of stress on her face, and they take their mother aside for a little pep talk.

``If you don't do it, Mom, who will?'' one will ask.

That's all it usually takes - that one question. Because Heather already knows the answer. No one will.

No one did before she started Little Heroes five years ago after the death of her own 6-month-old baby, Chad. And no one will now. The job is just too tough.

More than 3,000 phone calls and visits to grieving parents and hundreds of funerals in five years have convinced her of that.

She won't quit. She can't. As her four kids - ages 8 to 13 - say, if she doesn't make the call, who will?

So she reaches for the phone again Wednesday, calling the number that Los Angeles County coroner's investigator Barbara Nelson has just given her.

A poor, young Mexican-American woman has just lost a baby to SIDS. She needs a strong shoulder to lean on and a road map to get her through the next couple of weeks and months of grief.

Heather will give her both, just as she already has done for thousands of other Los Angeles County parents whom coroner's investigators, police and firefighters, the Mayor's Crises Response Team and dozens of social workers at more than 40 hospitals have asked her to help over the last five years.

These professionals say Heather Aitken gives what they cannot. She and her husband, Doug, have been where these parents are now, and no amount of professional training or education can rival that.

``It takes a lot of courage and a strong heart to do what she does, and she's become an invaluable resource for us and a lot of other hospitals,'' said Marisha Madrigel, a neonatal social worker at Childrens Hospital Los Angeles.

There's the same feeling at the Coroner's Office, where Heather helps mainly low-income Latino parents beat the high cost of funerals.

``She goes out and twists arms at mortuaries and cemeteries to get the best deal for these people, and she's there for them emotionally, as well,'' said investigator Nelson.

Over at City Hall, she is considered a guardian angel by Jeff Zimmerman, manager of the Crises Response Team that rolls out to fatal crashes, fires and other disasters in the city.

``We've set up a close working relationship with her because she is so good at talking the parents through the shock and grief,'' he said, ``and helping them with the funeral expenses and getting on with their lives.''

One of those mothers last year was Tara Mendoza of Santa Clarita, whose 4-month-old son, Tyler, was a SIDS victim in December.

``Heather is an amazing woman and was an invaluable resource in getting my husband and me through this horrendous time,'' Tara said.

``She helped us with the funeral, getting a personalized headstone for Tyler, and showed us that, as hard as it is to believe, life does go on and gets better.''

Heather is not just doing this for her own lost baby, Chad, anymore, she says. It's now for all those 3,000 families - for all the fathers and mothers who have found themselves part of a club no one wants to join, she says.

Heather dials the telephone number a coroner's investigator has given her, then rubs her tired eyes as the phone begins to ring at the other end of the line.

This is the 16th family in 10 days - 16 phone calls and follow-up visits to parents now lost in a fog of immense grief.

``I am sorry to hear about the loss of your baby,'' Heather begins. ``I lost my 6-month-old son, and I understand what you are going through right now. I would like to help.''

She listens and tells the woman it's OK to cry and get it out, but to remember this:

``Don't worry about your baby, because she's fine now - up in heaven playing with Chad and all the other babies,'' Heather says. ``You'll see her again.

``Worry about yourself now, your husband and your parents. You have to eat, sleep and take care of yourselves, be there for your other children.

``I'll come by tomorrow, and we'll talk about the funeral arrangements and where you go from here,'' she says. ``Try and get some sleep.''

Then, exhausted, she hangs up and closes her eyes. Sixteen families in 10 days. Too many. Far too many.

``When Chad died, Doug and I went through the experience with blinders on because we were not sure what was going to happen next,'' Heather said.

``We were not prepared for the funeral expenses we were suddenly faced with at the same time we were trying to deal with our grief,'' she said. ``We don't want to see other parents have to go blindly through the same thing.''

That was why they set up the Little Heroes Foundation in memory of Chad, who died from an immune suppression reaction three weeks after getting his DPT shot - to protect against diphtheria, pertussis and tetanus - in August of 1995.

Donations to the foundation help low-income families with funeral costs. The foundation's address is 22030 Ventura Blvd, No. 205, Woodland Hills, 91364.

Heather is also publishing a survival guide for parents who have lost young children. For more information on the guide, call her at [phone].

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Photo:

Her children - from left, Ashley 13; Christopher, 11; Cody, 9; and Kelsey, 8 - encourage Heather Aitken, center, to help grieving parents.

Evan Yee/Staff Photographer