Mathew Amaechi
Irish authorities have begun the grim task of excavating a site in Tuam, County Galway, believed to hold the remains of nearly 800 babies who died while in the care of a Catholic-run institution for unwed mothers.
The site once housed the Bon Secours Mother and Baby Home, operated by the Bon Secours order of nuns between 1925 and 1961. During those years, the home took in thousands of unmarried pregnant women—many of them victims of sexual abuse—and routinely separated them from their newborns.
Many of those children never made it out alive. The excavation, which began this week, follows years of public pressure sparked by the work of local historian Catherine Corless. In 2014, Corless revealed that while death certificates existed for 798 children who had died at the home, only one corresponding burial record could be found. Her research led to widespread outrage and forced the Irish government to open an official inquiry into the country’s dark history of institutional care.
Preliminary investigations at the Tuam site confirmed that the remains of infants—some as young as 35 weeks gestation—were discarded in a decommissioned septic tank. The area, now enclosed by modern apartments, is believed to contain the bodies of up to 796 babies who were denied a proper burial.
“The pit,” as it’s now known locally, has become a symbol of Ireland’s institutional abuses. The current excavation aims to recover, identify, and eventually rebury the remains with dignity. Officials say the process could take up to two years.
“I don’t care if it’s a thimbleful,” said Annette McKay, whose sister is thought to be among the dead. “At six months old, it’s mainly cartilage more than bone.”
McKay’s mother, Margaret “Maggie” O’Connor, gave birth to her daughter Mary Margaret at the Tuam home after being raped at age 17. The baby died six months later. “She was pegging washing out and a nun came up behind her and said, ‘The child of your sin is dead,’” McKay said.
The Bon Secours sisters have long been accused of operating the home with little compassion, enforcing harsh punishments and shaming the women in their care. Survivors and relatives continue to demand accountability and transparency.
The case has deeply unsettled Ireland, reigniting questions about the Church’s role in the country’s past and the state’s complicity in allowing religious institutions to run homes with minimal oversight.
For families like McKay’s, the excavation is a step toward truth—and the long-overdue recognition of the children who were buried and forgotten.
