My baby is with Jesus now. Her spirit is renewed and pain is washed away in heaven, while I am broken and hurting on earth.
We got the dreaded call around 2:30am. They said that the nurse was suctioning her and she Vagal-ed down (which is the same mechanism as when you bear down to have a baby). Her heart stopped. They ran a code and cpr until we got there. Shaun and I had snatched the boys out of bed buckled the baby in and ran to the hospital. We put both boys on our backs and ran into the hospital. The front desk clerks, social worker, and Ava's nurse all helped watched our 3 kids in a room next to the front desk. I asked how long they had been doing compressions. They said 25 minutes and she wasn't responding to any drugs and was starting to bleed. Shaun and I told them to stop right away. They extubated her quickly and wrapped her in a black blanket and gave her to me in a rocking chair. She took her last breaths in my arms. I held here on and off for the next 5 hours. Shaun and I gave her her last bath and wrapped her in another blanket. We got molds of her hands and feet as well as footprints and handprints. I got a lock of her hair. We listened to the song music therapy made of her and I watched what few movies I had of her on my phone. We ate breakfast at the Ronald McDonald house and Shaun packed the car. We saw Ava one more time, for the last time, at the mortuary where we had to sign a bunch of papers. I carried her around the room and looked at and talked at all the religiously ambiguous paintings.
I can't even begin to describe the feeling. I don't wish it on anyone. I wanted to just rock her though I knew she wasn't there. I wanted her on my chest so I could just pretend she was sleeping. I wanted to touch every body part in the attempt to burn it in my brain so I wouldn't forget what she felt, or looked, or smelled like. She looks just like me. She's my baby. She has my earlobes, and my mouth, and my small nose and my dark eyes. She has one dimple on her right cheek. Her hair is dark and thick like mine and her head still soft like a newborn. Her hands and feet are small and perfect and so much cuter than mine. I am heartbroken for her twin.
I don't care what people think of me posting this photo, just so you know.
I visited her last night and saw my favorite mannerisms. She rubs her eyes and eyebrows with the back of her fists when she's tired or needs comfort. She snuggled her soft blanket on the right side of her face. She prefers her right because her nurses have always been on her right. Even in her bedroom at home, I was on her right. She grabs my finger even when her eyes are shut. She opens her eyes when I talk to loud and she knows it's me.
She was, she is the sweetest little baby who endured more in 7 and a half months than any person should in a lifetime.
I'm home now. Driving home with an empty carseat is one of the worst things to be conscious of in your backseat. The boys are thrilled to have normalcy back, to a degree. They are vaguely aware of the new situation. It's a little more apparent to Sam. He has been telling strangers today. Both are confused about when they will die too and they are talking about baby Ivy dying too if she gets sick. Everywhere I look is Ava. I have so much to clean, but I don't want to touch or move any of it. I want a whole snuggle day with her, impossible. I have the last outfit she wore and I will never wash it. I threw my sweatshirt in the wash with a ton of oxiclean and I secretly hope it will keep the giant blood stain on it. It was right over my stomach and there was way too much irony in it.
I may update this later. I'm operating on another sleepless night and overwhelming grief.
We will post funeral information. There will be no viewing, so we have a little flexibility. Thanksgiving definitely throws a wrench in there. It will NOT likely be a weekday.
We would like someone with skills :) and some visual and musical creativity to put together a power point.
We would appreciate small meals, but maybe every other day, and we don't want people to stay and chat.
I do not want help cleaning up Ava's stuff.
I do not want visitors, least of all drop in ones.
I would like someone to take over the process of appropriately donating my breastmilk, whatever that entails. I have more than a freezer full. It represents a lot of love, hard work and dedication and I do not want it to go to waste.
Here is the song for Ava and I both:
Shaun says "yes, we miss her but I don't think I've ever been closer to God". Neither of us would exchange the last months in for never knowing our baby.
Steven Curtis Chapman - Feet of Jesus Lyrics
Artist: Steven Curtis Chapman
Album: The Glorious Unfolding
At the feet of Jesus I will lay my burdens down
I will lay my heavy burdens down
In the stillness I can hear my Savior calling out
Come to me and lay your burdens down
So I will lay down my struggles
I will lay down my shame
All the fear I drag around through this life
like a ball and chain
(All my questions and confusion)
I will sing Hallelujah to the One who sets me free
And you will find me at the feet of Jesus
In the arms of Jesus I will find my peace and rest
I hear him calling come to me and rest
Carried by my shepherd cradled tightly to His chest
There and there alone my soul finds rest
So I will rest in the shelter of my Savior’s embrace
Hidden safely in the refuge of His mercy and His Grace
And I Will Sing Hallelujah to the One who sets me free
And you will find me in the arms of Jesus
At the feet of my Savior
At the feet of my King
I will bow down and worship
I will lift my voice and sing
Hallelujah Hallelujah to the One who sets me free
You will find me at the feet of Jesus
Read more at http://www.songlyrics.com/steven-curtis-chapman/feet-of-jesus-lyrics/#Rmlu7TKJ9YTbrxy3.99