I woke up hoping
that everything that has been happening was just a nightmare. It wasn’t.
I was living in some sort of hell right now. I saw my mom.
She was awake and was talking to Pam, who was now Nathan’s Nurse. Apparently I slept through shift change. I got up and went over to Nathan to check on
him and he was still there and almost everything was the same.
I opened the
sliding glass door as to not disturb Kevin and I sat by my mom. I just gazed at his monitor for a few
moments, buried my head in my hands and began to cry. Nathan’s heart rate was going down. It was around 102. When I went to sleep it was in the
130’s/140’s. It was going down slowly
but it was still going down. His body
was starting to shut down and for the millionth time, I couldn’t believe this was
happening. His heart was getting tired.
With knowing that
my time with Nathan was very short, I didn’t want to waste any time away from
him pumping. I knew there was no point
in pumping anymore but I couldn’t just quit cold turkey. So I ended up rolling the pump into his room
and pumping right next to him so I could still watch him and touch him. We ended up requesting a lactation consultant
to come in to tell me how I can wean myself off of pumping. A little bit later, a lady came in to his
bedside and talked me through the best way to quit. It looked like I would have to take my pump
home with me. That was very depressing
for me. Here I am, having to pump my
milk and there will be no baby to reap the benefits of it. There are so many mothers out there who want
to breastfeed but can’t because their milk dried up or they never produced
enough and then there is me, who can produce enough, but my babies aren’t able
to have it.
Hours and hours
went by and I just continued to sit by Nathan.
I would play him the calm meditation music from Pandora like I always
did while we were doing skin-to-skin.
That is our music. That is Nathan
and Mom’s special station. It was
relaxing and calming and I think we both needed that right now. I also would sing to him and there was one
song that was hard to get through because of the words. The words never meant so much to me as they
did in this moment. I sat and sang:
My only Sunshine.
You make me Happy
When Skies are grey!
You’ll never know dear
How much I love you.
So please don’t take
My Sunshine Away!"
Nathan was my
Sunshine and he was going to be taken away from us. I couldn’t get through that song without
starting to cry. Many tears would drip
on to his incubator as I had my face planted up against it. Other than my hands, that was as close as I
could get to him. I was glad that they
decided the day before that Kevin and I didn’t have to gown and glove when around
Nathan. The nurses did but since we were
in our last hours with him, there was no point for us to and we could be full
skin-to-skin contact with him (with our hands at least). I had to be touching him. There was something inside me that made me feel like he needed someone to be touching him at all times so he knew that he wasn't alone. I needed him to know that his mom and dad were right there beside him and were not going anywhere. I can't explain it, but it was like I felt sick to my stomach if I wasn't touching him.
I talked to Nathan
constantly. I kept telling him with
tears streaming down my face, “I promise we’re not mad at you. We know you want to go play with your
brother. You do what you need to do and
we will love you no matter what. It’s
okay. Your brother wants to be with you
again. Grandma and Colin are up there
waiting for you. When you get there,
give them a big hug for me.” I just kept
reiterating that we weren’t mad at him.
I didn’t want him to think we were upset at him by any means. I wanted him to know that it was okay to let
go. His pain needed to end and we understood that. I felt that it was important for both Nathan
to hear those words coming from his Mom and for me to say them out loud. I didn’t want Nathan to die thinking that his
dad and I were mad at him for leaving. He
needed to know that we would love him unconditionally forever.
It was early
afternoon. I ran to the restroom real
quick and when I got out, I ran into my Father-in-Law. Kevin called him to come once he heard that
Nathan was a matter of hours. We walked
back to Nathans room. He said ‘Hi’ to my
mom and gave Kevin a big hug, and then went over to see his grandson. I am glad that Kevin had his Dad there for
extra support.
As the clock
decided to keep ticking on, Nathan’s heart was ticking slower and slower. It was now under 100. I think we were doing his 3 or 4 o’clock care
with Pam when I came to the realization that I might never get to hold Nathan
alive again. Kevin was standing right
next to me with his hand on my back and I asked Pam, “What would happen if I
held him?” She obviously couldn’t give
me a definite answer but she said that it could definitely be something that I
could do. I continued to ask her, “Is
there a possibility that I could hold him for an hour, he do fine, and then put
him back in his incubator?” She said
that it was possible. I went back and
forth with the idea. I wanted to hold him
one last time, but I didn’t want to be selfish if it was going to be bad for
him. Kevin said to me that if I wanted
to hold him than I should hold him. I
just couldn’t stand the thought that if I held him and he died that it would be
because of me. I knew it was a
possibility that he would die in my arms just like his brother did, but that
tiny bit of hope inside me was hoping that a miracle would still happen. If I held him and he died, would I have
ruined Nathan’s chance for a miracle to happen?
Pam ended up going
to get Dr. Valentine. I asked her what
she though about the idea of holding him.
She thought it was a fantastic idea.
She thought that Nathan would really enjoy being with him mom right now
and feeling my heartbeat. She reassured
me that it can only be good for him at this point to feel the warmth of his
mothers arms and in the off chance he did pass, then he would of passed in the
arms of the person who loved him most.
It still took me asking a few more times and feeling in my heart that it
was a good idea. Kevin kept telling me
that I should do it and that Nathan would want me to hold him.
I ended up agreeing
to do it, knowing what could happen but hoping that it wouldn’t. It didn’t happen right away because they had
to go get the respiratory therapist and get everything situated. As we were waiting, I asked if we could take
his IV out of his head. Pam wasn’t so
sure about that because what if we needed it?
I guess in my heart of hearts, I knew that we wouldn’t be needing that IV
for much longer and I didn’t want Nathan to pass with all that hardware coming
out of his head because once he passed, they wouldn’t be able to take it
out. So I pretty much insisted that they
take it out before I hold him, and they did.
It was around 5:00
or a little after, and I started to get in position to hold Nathan. I sat in the recliner and anticipated the
coming moments. Everyone gathered around
to be there to support me. They lifted
him out of the only bed he had ever known, and set him on my chest. They ended up turning his main monitor off
but could still watch his numbers from the other room. That way, I wouldn’t be so consumed with his
numbers and just enjoy the moment with him.
I held him, I
squeezed him, I kissed him, I loved him. My baby was in my arms alive for one last
time. After a few minutes went by, Dr.
Valentine came over and checked his heartbeat.
All she could hear was the pulse of the ventilator. Nathan was gone. He was now reunited with Colin and although
that gave me little comfort, I started to cry hysterically. My heart literally
shattered into a million pieces in that moment. This was the second time my child has died
in my arms and it doesn’t get easier the more times you do it, I can tell you
that. There is not anything in the world
that can prepare you for that kind of hurt and I don’t think there is anything
worse in the world than loosing your own child, and in my case, children. It’s torture. Pure torture.
How is my heart going to heal from something like this?
This nightmare is
never ending. Where was I going to go
from here? How do I recover from
something like this? How do I go on
living my life when my two babies can’t live theirs? I couldn’t answer these questions. I didn’t think my heart could handle this
kind of pain.
Kim, the Fellow,
came over while I was holding his lifeless body and took out his tube and
started to take off any other wire that was attached to him. I then continued to hold my baby in my arms
and cry. I was hoping that the first
time I held him without any tubes or wires on him would be when he was grown
and ready to go home to Columbus.
I would whisper in
his ear, “It’s okay that you left. I
love you more than you will ever know and I am not mad at you for leaving. I will miss you so much. I love you. *kiss* I love you. *kiss* I love you. *kiss*”
I could have stayed
like that forever because I knew as soon as I got up, the sooner we would leave
the hospital and not come back the next day.
Eventually, Kevin said something and I got up to start the goodbye
process all over again. Just like Colin,
I wanted to give Nathan a sponge bath, get his hand and footprints and get a
few last pictures. Pam went and got a
rolling crib so I could bathe him in that.
I tried to wash off all the goo that was protecting his blisters and any
blood that may have resulted in taking out the tubes. Because of Nathan’s edema, I decided to not
get ‘professional’ pictures taken like we did for Colin, because you couldn’t
even position him. His arms just laid
flat. You couldn’t bend them at
all. And I was lucky enough to have many
good days with him when he was wide awake and lively and I have a ton of great
pictures of him when he was alive that I didn’t feel the need to take any
pictures of him in this state.
After all that was
completed, we all got one last picture holding Nathan. My mom and father-in-law got to say their
goodbyes and then it was Kevin’s turn.
Kevin was such a wonderful husband for letting me to skin-to-skin with
Nathan as many times as I did, but I am glad he got to hold him that one time
while he was alive. He didn’t get that
chance with Colin. Kevin knew how much
it meant to me to hold our babies and he gave me that gift of knowing that each
of them were in my arms and alive at some point.
Jonda, who was
scheduled to be Nathan’s night nurse, was there. It was already 7 pm. I asked her to tell Meaghann (Nathan’s
Favorite Nurse) how much we loved her and to thank her for all she did. Jonda was actually texting Meaghan so she gave
me her phone. While Kevin was holding
Nathan, I was texting Meaghan. I told
her how much she meant to us and that she would never be forgotten. She really was Nathan and our favorite nurse
and we couldn’t thank her enough for all she did for our family.
After Kevin was
done holding him, I took him back and sat with Nathan cradled in my arms. I couldn’t fathom the thought of walking
away. The same thing happened with
Colin. It was the hardest thing to give
his body up and walk away and to never see him again other than in
pictures. I stood up and just as I stood
up, Molly, who was Nathan’s nurse many times, came walking back into isolation
with tears streaming down her face.
“What a precious, sweet soul,” she said as she stroked his forehead. She then gave me a huge hug. His death affected many people and not just
Kevin and myself. Molly told me what a
pleasure it was taking care of Nathan and to see such a loving couple be his
parents. They unfortunately don’t see
the kind of family that we are in that NICU very much.
I told the nurses
that they could throw away all my breast milk that was being stored in the
freezer for Nathan. I knew that if I
wanted to donate the milk so other babies could get it, then I would have to do
all this blood work and testing first and I didn’t feel like sticking around
Cincinnati any more.
As much as it hurt
to walk away from him, it was time to say our final Goodbye to Nathan. I couldn’t stay there forever holding him
even though I seriously could have. I
gave my son one last final kiss and a big squeeze and handed him off to
Jonda. She held him just as if he was a
real live baby. She told me, “Nathan and
I are just going to sit here and do some paperwork for a little while.” That made me feel good that she was going to
‘hang out’ with him and not just toss him to the side. I know his soul was gone but I really needed
to know that they were going to treat his body with respect. The Social worker had already come while I
was holding Nathan and Kevin took care of everything. He already knew we were getting him cremated,
just like his brother, so there wasn’t anything to discuss with me. He let me have my time with our son.
With each step out
of the isolation rooms my heart got heavier and heavier. I was never going to see my son, or hold him,
or kiss him ever again. But I would
still continue to love him forever. Walking out into the main area of the NICU,
I saw many people whose lives Nathan had touched. Holly, one of his nurses, came over and gave
me a big hug. I thanked her for taking
care of him and she responded, “It was my absolute pleasure.” She than told me that she wants to see me
again someday and bring our other children in to say hello. That is something we could definitely do.
Another hug came
from Alicia. She was the Labor and
Delivery nurse who tripped over the cords to my contraction monitor my first
night in the hospital. Since she had
lost one of her twins, she knew what I was going through. Then I looked over at the desk and there was
Kim. We walked towards each other and
gave a big hug. I said, “You have been
there from the beginning. Thank you for
doing all you could for my boys.” Kim
was the Fellow that came into our hospital room the day of the ablation and
told us what to expect if Colin and Nathan were born at that gestational
age. And then she was there for Nathan’s
passing and everything in between. I
guess you could say she was our constant through our whole journey. She told us that we were a lovely family and
that she wished only the best for us.
We walked out, one
last time. We weren’t going to return
the next morning to see Nathan in his incubator. We weren’t going to scrub our hands before
entering and then sign in at the counter.
We were done. Our story in the
NICU was over. The NICU can bring some
awful moments, which we have just experienced again, but it also brought us so
much joy. If it weren’t for the NICU, I
would never have gotten to spend time with my sons and gotten to know their personalities. It was the only home they ever knew. They never got to feel the warmth of the sun
on their face, or the wind blowing through their peach fuzz, but they did get
to experience wonderful care from all the Doctors and Nurses who took care of
them and for that, we are eternally grateful.
The walk out of the
hospital was silent. Going down the
elevator, one last time, through the hospital lobby and out the hospital doors, one last time. I was defeated. My face said it all. A blank stare was all the emotion I could
muster up at that point. I was
completely numb and not just because it was 5 degrees outside.
We gave my
Father-in-law a hug in the parking garage and said our Goodbyes. He was going to drive back to Canfield that
night and my mom was going to drive back to Westerville. But she had to get her stuff back at the RMH
so we both drove back to the RMH.
Once we got to our
room, I had texted my friends Sarah, Brittany and Nikki that wrote, “Nathan
just passed away.” Sarah called me right
away and she was sobbing on the other end.
She said she was so sorry and that she thought she was really going to
meet him someday. I gave her a brief
version of what happened and then we hung up.
She probably could barely understand me because I was crying. To have my friend who had never even met him
be crying that hard over his death really touched me. She is such a wonderful friend.
By the time I got
off the phone, my mom was all packed.
She looked at me from across the room and started crying. “Can I give
you a hug?” she asked. She just
couldn’t believe she witnessed her daughter saying goodbye to her child for a
second time. Other than Kevin, my mom
had been my second rock through this whole thing. She gave up her life to be down in Cincinnati
when I needed her. I am not shocked
because I now know the power of a mothers love and I would have done anything
for my children so she was right there when I needed her, no questions asked.
We had a tearful
goodbye with her and she was on her way back to Columbus. Kevin wanted to leave that night as well but
I just couldn’t. All I wanted to do was
sleep and since I knew there was a whole checkout process that included
cleaning the room and taking out the trash, I just didn’t want to deal with
that and have to pack all our stuff that night.
While Kevin took a
shower, I ended up packing up all my clothes.
I know I said I didn’t want to but I needed to do something. Then I took a hot shower and cried the entire
time. I just kept re-living the moment
over and over again in my head as the water beat down on my face. I couldn’t think about anything else.
It was time to
sleep. I curled up next to Kevin, his
arms around me, and I cried hysterically.
We lost them: both of them. That
was my fear from the very beginning and so many people said it wouldn’t happen
to us, but it did. In the past 27 days,
I delivered 2 beautiful babies into this world and then they were both ripped
from my arms before I knew it. I cried
myself to sleep that night and dreamt of my beautiful babies up in Heaven. Brothers were now together again and I missed
them more than words can describe.
Nathan touched so many lives in his 27 days here on earth, and just like
his brother, he had my heart.
Both my boys were
now Angel Babies and they are the most loved Angel Babies up in Heaven.
Nathan Daniel Kane
December 12, 2013 - 3:13pm
-
January 7, 2014 - 5:15pm
1 lb 2.5 oz - 12.6 inches long
No comments:
Post a Comment