Saturday, July 5, 2014

Addy's Story Part 9: Now What?

If you missed any part of Addy's story, click HERE to catch up.

Part 9: Now What?

I held Addison for what seemed like forever.  I knew she was dead, but for some reason she wasn't dead until I actually released her from my grip… you know, actually acknowledged and gave her up.

She's with Cristina now… Cristina was a good friend of mine that had lost her battle with breast cancer 4 months earlier.  This was just too much.  Cristina left behind a husband and family of 5… seemed like she was trying to recreate her family up in Heaven.  She had so-and-so's baby boy… now she had Addison.

Oh well.  I couldn't ask for a better caregiver…. if they have those up in Heaven.

Nana wanted to hold Addison.  Either her or my mother-in-law… I really don't remember, I just know I went super-psycho in my head for a split second… this is my daughter… no one can hold her but me.

I passed her over.

I don't really remember walking out of the room.  I felt defeated. A part of me was gone.  In the back of my head I blamed myself.  I wished her gone.  I did this. I prayed that prayer.

I missed something.  I had to have missed something.  I was so caught up in work that I must have missed something.

Stupid new job.  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The doors to the PICU opened.  The hall was packed with people.  People from church, people from work, friends, family.

Packed.

I zeroed in on so-and-so.  She was first in line.  I think I collapsed into her arms. She's with your boy now. They're not alone.  They have each other.

Did I believe myself?  I don't know.  It sounded good.  It sounded "right".  Shoot, I wasn't sure what I believed.

A gazillion people hugged me.  We went back into the family room to speak with the doctor.  She needed to wrap things up.  I asked so-and-so to come with me. I had no clue what happened next, and she just went through it.  Gosh, I didn't even stop to think if she would be able to handle it. How hard that must have been for her.

The doctor looks exhausted.  Drained.  I know she tried all she could.  She expressed her condolences.

What happened doc?  Why did she die?

My best guess at this point is herpes simplex.

WHAT?

I guess she repeated it.

No. No.  HERPES?  My daughter died from HERPES?  No.

Absolutely not. People don't die from Herpes.

She mentioned the cold sore… said she was treating her with medication for it… I guess in my head I knew Herpes I and Herpes II were in the same family, but I guess I never knew you treated them with the same medication. Makes sense though.

But dead? No… I don't think so.  I'm sorry, but I disagree.  People don't die from cold sores.  EVERYONE has cold sores… well, I mean, everyone but me. (I don't have cold sores.)

She said she wasn't sure, that it was just a guess since that's the only known infection she could figure out at the time… more tests were ordered and would come in over the next couple of days.  She listed a lot of symptoms… liver failure, blood wouldn't clot, etc., etc…. but those all happened as a result of something. She said she wanted to order an autopsy and needed our permission.

I looked at so-and-so.  (I think it was her… someone told me this.) She nodded yes…. said something to the fact of an autopsy is a lot of money if we order it ourselves… if the doctor orders it, it's included.  At this point, I didn't really care.  All I know was someone was gonna find out the real cause.

People don't die from cold sores.

Yes, of course… autopsy is fine.  Can we donate anything?

No. Since we think she died of an infection, we can't donate anything at all.

Well, gee… that sucks.

The doc then wants to know if we have a funeral home of choice we'd like to have her taken to.

Yeah, sure…. I keep funeral home on my list of preferred doctors in my wallet.  You know, doc, dentist , eye doctor… OB… funeral home.  Yep, sure do…. NOT.

I look at so-and-so.  Who did ya'll use?

Laughlin.

Ok. We will use Laughlin. (What did I know?  Funeral homes are funeral homes, right?)

The doc gets up to go… she's finished all her last details.  I'm informed that the nurses are preparing Addy's body and making a parting gift for us, that we will have as much time as we would like… she does want to get the autopsy soon, but take our time.

My doctor calls.  He's in shock.  He's like, I just held her yesterday.  She seemed FINE.  What happened?  I told him what I knew.  He just keeps saying over and over, she was fine…. just a normal baby…. she was fine.  I agree with him.  I have no clue.

I start making phone calls.  I talk with my friend Misty.  She tells me someone is going to come and want to take dead baby pictures.  She says as grossed out as I might be, as much as I may not want to, go ahead and do it.  She says her friend regrets not doing it.

I promise they don't call themselves the "dead baby" photographer.  That's me and my lack of filter.  They are part of a group called NILMDTS (Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep).

Yeah… you'd go with dead baby photographer too…

I call my OB and my pediatrician and leave a message with the on-call service. They both call me back.  They're in shock. I guess it wasn't a milk allergy, I jokingly tell my pediatrician.

He doesn't laugh.  He's pretty upset too.

What am I supposed to do?  Cry? I've cried all the tears I think I can cry. I'm not sure any more exist.

Someone from the staff comes and says Addison is ready for us. Husband and I go walking back into the PICU.

I get to the doorway, see her dead body laying their on the table, some outfit and blanket on her and I collapse. My husband catches me.

No, no, no……. no………

I'm hysterical. Can't breathe.  Not sure why.  I knew she was dead… how was this any different?  Because she had clothes on?  Because she had her new blanket on her?  The beautiful blanket she'd only had for 24 hours?

A chair appears underneath me.  I breathe.  Gotta get it together.  I'm making a scene.  Shoot, make a scene girl.  This is your daughter.  She's dead.  Make all the scene you want.

Part of me wanted to just let myself go totally nuts so they would sedate me. Put me in the padded room…. anything but feel the pain and the emptiness. The logical side won over…

The staff hands me a box.  Inside is a scrapbook they make for the parents… with a lock of hair, pictures, hand and foot prints..  There were two beanie baby angels, one for Bryson and one for Abigail, to help them "cope" with the loss.

They're still at the aunts house.  They have no clue what's going on.  They're 2 and 3… absolutely no clue.

I'm told the dead baby photographer is at a wedding and can't make it until after the autopsy… I'm sure I can get another photographer friend here.

Someone comes in and says three girls are here to see me.  They say they're my students.  I remember getting a text from one of them asking if they could come. Sure, they can come in.

I'm greeted by warm hugs and tears.  They don't seem weirded out that there's a dead baby in the room.  They gather round us and say a prayer.  How sweet.  Someone raised these girls right.  I want my kids to be raised like this… not afraid to face a tragic situation and to turn to God in prayer.

One of them has a phone number I'd been trying to find.  I call her and she agrees to come and take the pictures. That must have been an interesting phone call, now that I have the time to think about it.

I didn't have a chance to get newborn photos done yet.  Sure, the hospital took some pictures but we didn't buy any… we bought the slideshow but no pictures.  Well, at least I have something.

She and her daughter arrive and begin snapping photos.  They're very professional…. told me their ideas for different shots, etc.

I can't imagine people actually take the time to think up good dead baby shots…. I have no clue what I want… shoot I just know my friend said I needed to get them and it seemed like a good idea.  Now… not so much.

We pick Addison up and pose with her.  It's sort of surreal.  She feels like a baby doll, heavy and stiff… just like a baby doll.  I'm posing with a baby doll.  A dead baby doll.

Is she going to look dead in the pictures? Do I want a dead baby face in pictures?

I have no clue… It's been 21 months and I still have yet to look at the pictures.

It's time to leave.  They really want to do the autopsy.  My husband and I get into the car… feels like a million years ago that we threw our bags in there to go to Birmingham, but it's only 4, 4:30pm.

This morning seemed so long ago.  Everything is a blur.  I'm in a daze. I'm told my mom is on her way from Atlanta. Not sure why.  Addy's dead.  There's nothing to see.  I'm sure there will be a funeral or some sort of service later this week.

We get home and grab bags out of the car.  Hubby grabs the infant carrier.

Our eyes meet.

It's empty.

Oh My God it's empty. The realization hits me again, and I nearly lose it.

Hubby helps me inside and into bed.

A million gazillion thoughts are swirling through my head… it's like a movie, replaying part by part.  Maybe it's a dream…. maybe I'll just wake up.

My daughter is dead.  Dead.  Finito. Dead. Gone.

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