"God.....you can still fix this."

I was told (by a dear friend, so don’t verbally stone them) that I maybe should have made some sort of disclaimer before my previous post.  I do understand that not everyone wants to know the details, however Im a details person.  It makes me feel better, and I have found comfort in reading other similar stories to mine and their details.  My hope is that in the future, my story and my details will bring comfort to someone else.

So…….

DISCLAIMER ALERT!  This is not a happy post, and may contain details you might not want to know.  

We were lucky to have a hospital that told us we could pretty much stay as long as we needed.  Immediately, I thought “of course I am staying until they kick me out”.  I have heard stories of other couples being rushed out.  I cant imagine being hurried through the process.  Of course no time would ever be enough, but Im glad to have been able to leave on our terms.    You would think that giving birth to a perfect child who will never wrap her little arms around our necks would be the worst moment of a moms life.  I thought that on the night that she was born.  Until the next day, when I realized that even though the baby I was rocking wasn’t alive and breathing…..at some point, I was going to have to hand her over to someone and walk away. 

We were blessed with the most amazing nurse on the planet.  New Friend Jen.  She happens to do photography on the side and had her husband bring up her camera.  I remember reading a small page in one of our pregnancy books that mentioned the possibility of this outcome.  It briefly talked about taking pictures….my small brain could only think “ew”.  When Jen mentioned the pictures I was so confused because as in love as I was with my daughter, a part of me still thought it was strange.  I am so glad it was never really an option.  Now I have the most beautiful pictures of our angel that we will treasure forever.  Close ups of her chubby hands, her double chin, her tiny ears, and even one of her in the one dress I packed in her bag that was too small, but oh so cute.

Signing her birth and death certificates and writing “Mother” next to my name may have been the first time I think I could literally feel my heart break.  The day was filled with lots of emotion, which I was finally starting to feel some of.  Our close friends and family that were in town came to see and hold her.  It was sad and comforting to know that they were suffering a loss too.  They had all dreamed with us and giggled and imagined life with this precious little girl.  Of course I hate to see anyone I know and love grieving, but it was nice to know that Colby and I weren’t doing it alone.  We were able to skype with our parents who all live in different states and they were able to see Elliston as well.  Thank God for technology. 

As the day went on, Ellistons little body started changing.  Colby told me that ultimately we would leave when I was ready, but I may want to start thinking about when that time would be.  He let me know that he had been shielding me from the changes that were taking place but soon he wouldn’t be able to hide the changes.  I felt so shallow knowing I should leave so I only had beautiful images of her in my head.  I felt like such a bad mother CHOOSING to leave my daughter before they made me leave.  But it was the right choice. 

I showered and changed while Suzanne and Leila came to say goodbye to Elliston and help Colby carry our stuff to the car.  Everyone left us to have our final moments with our angel.  For the first time she fit perfectly in my arms.  I had been so swollen and hooked up to stuff and uncomfortable in the bed and emotionally absent while at the same time so overly emotional at times, that she had never fit just right in my arms.  When I held on to her for the last time, she fit effortlessly.  Colby and I laid on the hospital bed holding our family tight.  I cant put into words what those moments felt like.  Colby said he was going to pray and as much as I felt like God did not deserve to hear from us, it was all we knew to do.  He kept telling God how pissed off we are at him for allowing this to happen.  I still, 20 hours after she had been born, was thinking “God, if you could just have her start breathing, you can still fix this”.

I have no idea how long we laid and cried with her.  We eventually had to call the nurse to come get her.  Normal procedure was for us to leave her in a bassinet in the room and then leave.  But I said I couldn’t do that.  Something about me leaving her and walking away from her, I just couldn’t stand to do it.  The nurse entered the room to take her.  As she stood crying, she promised to take care of Elliston herself.  She would not pass her on to anybody else.  The next seconds turned into slow motion for me.  Worse than any moment we had endured so far, or I believe will ever endure in our lives......placing my perfect baby girl in the arms of someone who would take her away from me forever, there is no greater heartbreak.  4 weeks later, I am still frozen in despair when I think about that moment. 

We walked out of the same hospital doors that for 9 months we had imagined walking out of with our baby.  Now, empty handed.  Our family had removed the car seat to try to lesson the blow.  Love them. 

Unfortunately, driving away from the hospital is not leaving the pain, the anger, the extreme sadness.  It followed us.  It changes.  And it grows.