This text is largely taken from a post we made on March 16, 2004.
As a system we have often complained about the lack of time we have in our days. But as it turns out there are worse lacks of times.
Our daughter Emily ended up having 89 hours of life.
On Friday we went into labour in the morning. It started out fine but got progressively worse, ending up with 3 hours of pushing, one of them with the baby in essentially the same spot going back and forth. Up until the last 15 minutes or so she seemed to be doing fine and then they lost the fetal heartbeat. While they were about to put a scalp probe up we got the last burst of sheer adrenaline panic and pushed her out. [We later learned, after getting copies of the chart, that she showed a "W" fetal heart distress pattern on the tracings - which may mean that she could easily have been identified as being in distress. It certainly answered our questions about it.]
So at 5:58 pm on March 12, Emily Hope was born, weighing 6 lbs 10 oz, 21.5″ long, with long fingers and toes and beautiful black hair.
She was on the wrong side of death and life, strangled by our umbilical cord. The room filled with people and they restarted her heart and put her on a ventilator. We thought well, babies are resilient and they revive them lots. After 12 hours at that hospital the neonatalogist made the decision that her condition was worsening, with seizures and things, and moved her to the Toronto Hospital for Sick Children – one of the best kids’ hospitals in the world. So we thought, okay, maybe there has been some damage but they’re the experts.
We were still in recovery Saturday but Carl spent the day downtown with her and then the night with us. The team there said they would have to wait for the brain swelling to go down to really assess her. Sunday we were discharged around noon and went down to Sick Kids’ where we have been since until now. On Sunday the news wasn’t good, but that Monday would bring more tests. Sunday was the first time we were able to hold her in our arms, for about 10 minutes, with a bunch of tubes and IVs and a respirator.
On Monday each test brought more bad news. Essentially her brain starved and none of the centres for hearing, vision, movement, or even swallowing were active, and she was displaying no reflexes at all, not even pupil dilation. The team at Sick Kids was great and advised us that because she was a fighter, and could breathe some on her own – more and more – that their medical advise was strongly to just take her off the ventilator and let her try on her own.
So Monday at 9 pm we took her off the ventilator and held her for the first time without a zillion needles and tubes. Tuesday at 4:10 am she stopped breathing visibly and near 5 am her heart stopped. We had a whole night holding her, singing, talking, cuddling, napping with her. That morning we bathed her and did crafts – molds of her hands and feet. And later on we buried her.
She is greatly missed.
My heartfelt sympathies go out to all of you. I came upon your site after reading the book, “The Flock” and doing some online research on MPD. I am a 41 yr old single mom of 3. I am finishing a psychology degree and want to be a therapist. MPD has held my interest for years, I myself have BiPolar disorder. Once in my twenties, I was in the hospital for this, and I met a friend/s with MPD. She was brilliant and fascinating and fun and broken, and even though we lost touch eventually, my interest in the disorder has always persisted. I am truly sorry for the loss of your daughter, and for the hardships you have had. I am enjoying reading on the site. Thank you for being brave and sharing yourself. God Bless You
:-)
Robyn
Hi Robyn,
Thanks for your really kind comment and for stopping by. That’s so cool that you’re on the path to becoming a therapist. I hope you keep reading – and it’s not always as crazy as it has been of late. :)