Apr 27, 2009

Too Late

My daughter was coherent for five hours or so. Blinking, grabbing, stretching and aware. My mother and our preacher saw her like this. Her daddy saw her, eyes staring back at him and her blinking. He tried to get me up to the N.I.C.U. to see her, as the doctors said that brain damage would likely manifest before very long.
I was in recovery. I was getting blood. I refused a catheter and insisted on getting up shortly after an emergency cesarean to pee. I had to get up, for her...I had to prove I was strong enough to be moved from my floor.
I needed to be with her.
I didn't get there fast enough. I never saw her with her eyes both open and functioning. I never saw her blink I only saw what they termed 'reflexive movements'.
I am grateful to have met and held her, to have caressed her soft dark hair and kiss her porcelein face. I give thanks for her strong heart, and the fact I was able to see it beating on the monitor for hours in her hospital room.
But I was too late, for those few hours of her life that she was truly 'here'. I was there for what we called her 'one foot in Heaven and one foot on earth' phase.
I only hope that she heard me read to her and when I would quietly sing. I wonder if she knew I was her mommy when I was with her, when I held her?
These thoughts and questions still come up from time to time. They are however, pointless because they have no answer in this world.





(spoiler)

K and I are planning a getway that ahem...just might change our family dynamic in a big way......

4 comments:

Lea said...

Oh Lindsay.... I ache for you and your Zoe-Beth. I am so sorry that you didn't have the chance to see her eyes open... I am so sorry that she didn't have the chance to "see" her loving mommy. What I do believe for sure is that she "felt" you, she heard you and knew who you were in a way we can only imagine. Babies know their mommies, no matter what. Hang onto that... I try to.

A change in family dynamic.... hmmmmm... ;)

Jennifer Ross said...

Zoe-Beth knew who her mommy was. I feel bad because I never got to see Isaiah's eyes open. We have missed out on so much here on this earth...but when we get to heaven we will know why, and get to be with our children for all eternity!

Anonymous said...

I'm just so sorry and sending you lots of hugs.

margaret said...

So much of me identifies with you and what you post. Our children died different deaths but the pain is still the same. The horrible aching, throat choking emptiness that zaps life of even the smallest joys. I applaud you for getting off the painkillers. I'm not there yet...but I might be soon because I'm about to run out. I don't know how I'll face the day without them, don't know if I can stand the pain. I wish I could hug you right now beautiful girl...