Leaving the Hospital

Even though I had a c-section, after the news I received on Friday my doctor agreed that I could go home on Saturday provided that I had no issues. I was thankful for this news. Although the sound of a crying newborn is a blessed, joyful noise - it was torture for me to remain in the hospital. All through the night Thursday and Friday there was a very healthy, loud baby crying in the next room. I sobbed Friday night everytime I heard this baby cry - I wept as I pumped my milk for a baby that, at that time according to our information, was possibly going to die. It seemed like such a slap in my face to have to pump my milk, to have to listen to a baby cry when I couldn't hold mine. I couldn't nurse her, I could not cuddle her and breathe in that newborn baby scent. How, I wondered, could God give me this to bear? All I could do was tell myself that this wouldn't be the end of my world, that I could have another child if this one was destined to go back to God. I hoped that these words, these thoughts of mine would sooner or later give me comfort.

Tom came to get me, alone. One of my favorite nurses, Angie (she seemed more like an Angel to me - she cried with me when I told her about Daisy) helped us get my things together. I was wheeled out of that hospital - leaving was tearing my heart out - because I was leaving without my baby girl. Tom and I both wore our sunglasses as we went through the hospital, tears streaming down our faces. As we got to the car, the valet asked if we had had a baby. How do you answer that as your leave without your child and the knowledge that she may have a fatal condition?

It was, perhaps, one of the worst moments of my life.