Tuesday, August 30, 2011

The World Moves On

The little baby that I mentioned before died last night. I came in this morning and her spot was empty. Just like that. She was just too early. My heart breaks for her parents. When I was in nursing school, we did a short clinical rotation through the NICU. I always thought I could never work in a NICU because of the teeny, tiny babies like that one. I thought that I knew what I would want if I was in that situation and I didn't know if I would be able to take care of babies that I didn't know what was "right" ethically. But now, having been through what we have, I don't know how I could ever make the decision to not "do everything" for my baby. I think I would know deep in my heart that I wouldn't want my baby to suffer, but I just don't think I could make the decision whether we tried to prolong my baby's life or let it go. It's certainly not a black and white area. Before we had the boys, we had to talk several times to the neonatologists about what we wanted done if the boys were born at 23 weeks. It was just awful. These are decisions that I don't feel like any parent should ever have to make. In a way, I am glad that we didn't have to make the decision for Carter, because I think it would have broken my heart even more.  We are really thankful that our boys didn't come until 25 weeks. It doesn't seem like 2 weeks would make that much of a difference, but in a baby so early, it can really make a huge difference. Please keep this baby girl's family in your prayers.

I was recently talking to someone about how things were going when I went home. They asked if it was weird to be home and in my "normal" environment. And it always is a little weird, although it is getting easier. I think one of the things that hits me the most is sometimes I feel like I am just watching the world move around me. While my world seems to have stopped, the rest of the world keeps moving. The flowers, cards, and phone calls start to stop. But our grieving doesn't. It feels like people start to forget, but to us it feels like it is just beginning. The double outfits still hang in the closet and we are looking at proofs for Carter's headstone. As I hold Cohen, I can't help but think about what it would have been like to hold both of my boys together. To us, the world still seems like it should be on pause. Like we shouldn't have to jump back in, but that we should get to take a break and come back when we are ready.

1 comment:

  1. I found your blog from a post on sweet baby James Sikes' blog. I've spent most of my morning reading your story, so I thought I'd better at least say hello! Praying for Carter, for Cohen, for the 23-weeker, praying for James. Praying for every mama and daddy that their hearts are healed and filled with love. Thanks for writing, I look forward to seeing Cohen kick butt and take names! The transformation and growth he's undergone since birth is AMAZING. Nothing short of a miracle, truly.