Somethings just hurt

“What would you like to do?”

We went into the ward to where the doctor was standing by Poppy’s bed. “I’m sorry, i’ve done all I could” he looked devestated. Looking back I genuinely feel for the guy but at the time I couldn’t feel anything. I was numb. It took a few minutes to get feelings back. Only this time it was emotional not physical numbness. He explained how her lungs just weren’t able to expand ergo they were incompatible with her body. He asked us if we would like to turn the machines off. The machines that had kept her alive for roughly 12 hours at this point. We were both silent. He explained how if we didn’t turn them off then eventually her heart would give way. How the morphine that kept her pain free would only work for a short while longer. Basically we took it to mean she would be in pain. The doctor confirmed this to us. He said that it was up to us. We could prolong her life if we wanted to. Now i’m not usually a selfish person. But once it was agreed to turn them off I asked if this could be done in the morning. They agreed that it was fine and we were reminded that it was our choice. I didn’t say it but I was starting to get angry and couldn’t help thinking that my choice would have been to have my baby healthy. It wasn’t their fault, the were honestly amazing people. But sometimes you just need an emotional punch bag. They became that for me for an hour or so. I never said anything I just thought a lot of horrible things. One nurse was trying to get me to eat toast. I hadn’t eaten since the Big Mac and as she reminded me, I had just had major surgery. I have never felt more like swearing a someone as I did at that point. Somehow I managed to keep calm and have a few bites at the behest of my mother and mother in law. 

“I will always love you”

I finally held my daughter, I held my precious little baby when I knew she was going to die. I felt like something had been stolen from me. I still do. I cried and told her how much I loved her and how she would always be with me. I never wanted to let go. And so our families left and we went back into the labour ward, the only room available for us to sleep. I fell into a dreamless sleep with the sound of healthy babies being born into this world. Who needs dreams when your living a nightmare right? I woke up early and turned to Dan. He was awake just staring into space. I got up and was put into a wheelchair. We were escorted to Poppy’s bedside. I took one look at her, she was just so small with wires covering her beautiful face. We sat for about half an hour until we were ready. The nurses unplugged all but 2 machines. One with the morphine and one that kept her alive. We were moved then to a separate room with a couch. A place away from prying eyes and pitiful looks. It broke my heart that the couch was red. Poppy red. The nurses made sure we were comfortable and passed Poppy to Dan. They then manually kept her lungs breathing while we regained our composure. I treasure ever single second of what I am about to tell you but I feel I must warn you that I am about to describe my daughters last hour.

“I think she’s gone”

Once we were both sat, with Poppy in Dans arms, the nurses turned off the machine for her breathing and unattached it from her face. This was the first time I ever saw my daughter full face. I couldn’t help but smile. She was just so perfect. She was Dans little double and yet even more beautiful. She had tiny thin lips and his little button nose. When I stroked her face the most amazing thing happened. She opened her eyes. The first and only time I saw her eyes. I felt like I could get lost in them. They weren’t open for long but it felt like her giving me one last glimpse of the little fighter I knew her to be. We switched positions so I could hold her next, careful not to knock the wire that fed her morphine so that she couldn’t feel the pain. I felt her small movements of breathing, her little whimpers with each breath out. I sat and stared at her. She held my finger for a while. And then just as suddenly as you can imagine, I thought she had gone. The nurse came in but our little fighter was still going. Only just but by god was she fighting to stay. At 07:19, 24 hours and 7 minutes after she had been born, I felt the life go out of her. It’s hard to describe really, it was like she had gained weight all of a sudden. I turned to Dan and told him that I was sure this time and the nurse confirmed it. Our daughter, our little fighter, was gone.