Waiting

On Monday, July 28th, Tom and I spent the majority of the day on the phone to family and friends. Our good friends Jeff and Debi were here to help with Zoe and Teddy so that Tom and I could do the physical and emotional work that we needed to.

We would call the NICU periodically to check on Daisy, who seemed to be getting even worse. At some point they put something on her to help her breathe, called a C-Pap. She was being fed through a tube which was inserted into her nose, down her throat to her stomach. Everytime we would call the NICU, I would cry after hearing the report.

I could barely eat. All food tasted, and felt, like cardboard. Monday is the first day that I met Monica, our public health nurse - and my friend. Monica bravely gave us information about support groups and other information for a family suffering from a loss. She shed some tears with us too, which was astonishing, because she had just met us.

I also remember a very touching phone call I had with Dr. Gannon, our children's pediatrician. Dr. Gannon and I discussed comfort care, and what that would mean for Daisy. I was touched with Dr. Gannon's thoughtfulness, and her concern. She told me that we were doing the right thing, that not only did the medical field support our decisions to not prolong Daisy's life if she was trisomy 18, but that her church also supported such a decision. I could tell that Dr. Gannon's heart was with us.

What an outpouring of love and support we were receiving. It was comforting, and it was welcomed. For once in my life, I accepted the help of others. So, for all of you reading this now, please know that your words, your thoughts, your prayers and all the food you brought was and is appreciated.

Driving Home

As Tom and I drove home from the hospital we talked about what to do next. We decided that we would wait until Thursday for the test results, and if they came back with a report of Trisomy 18, we would let Daisy return to God. Even now, as I write this I feel the tears well in my eyes and a tightness return to my chest. We called our priest to have Daisy baptized, and Tom bravely contacted the funeral home. Ok, now I am sobbing at the memory of this.

At the time, we had decided that we would face this - and we would face it bravely. We would do right by our little girl. We wanted to bring her home, but at that moment, it looked grim that Daisy would be able to survive even walking out to the car. It was important to me, very important to me, that if my little girl was going to leave this world, that she would leave it in my arms - with Tom there. We created her together and we would be there together as she left to be with God. She is our child, I kept thinking - and we have to do it right - right by her, and right by ourselves. I never imagined that I would have to contemplate this sort of thing.

What kept me afloat? Tom, certainly the strength of my husband. But our other children, their bright faces, their hugs, and even their tantrums. I had to keep living, I had to keep moving and doing. What also helped was knowing that this did not have to be the biggest event in my life. We could have another child if we wished. Although another child would never replace Daisy, it God intended that Daisy was to return to his realm, then maybe we all had something to learn from her short stay and we would be better parents, and better people for it.