I still remember the clean smell, the smell of hospital grade, antiseptic hand soap mixed with the sweet scent of baby diapers. I remember seeing the eyes of the tiniest patients at the hospital, and next to them I saw the look of uncertainty in every parent's face, wondering what will be the fate of their baby. Some had been there long, others had just arrived, every couple of minutes, a new baby would be brought in, looking more like a robot than a baby, hooked onto tubes and machines, absolutely helpless, with every breath, fighting to live another moment in this world and just a tiny step from becoming angels if anyone or anything failed them. A Thursday evening, mid September, two of the tiniest babies that the hospital had ever welcomed to the world arrived in the A room, the NICU room with the highest concentration of nurses, one for every two babies. Every single baby in extremely delicate condition. Each baby was inside an isolette, I wish they would have not separated them. From that moment on we didn't want to leave their side. Eventually we had to step out after 4 nights of not sleeping. Thinking back... I should've never left their side.
That day we rushed in, we got there about 40 min after we got "the call".
I was taking a shower at home, I had just been released from the hospital the night before and had come home around 4 am after being in the NICU for 4 days, watching every breath of my very unhealthy and medically unstable babies. I grabbed my phone to call the NICU to check on my girls. One was 2lbs, the other just 1 lb. As soon as grabbed the phone I noticed the many missed calls from the hospital. I knew something was happening. I called the NICU and wa told to rush over there because our little Grace was dying. We got several calls on our way there, it was the nurse saying that it wouldn't be much longer before Grace took her last breath. While in the car, we tried to explain to our curious 4 yr old what was happening and prepared him to say hia final goodbye to his little sister whom he had met just 4 days ago.
As soon as we walked into room "A" I knew that it was really happening. There was a privacy curtain wrapped around Grace's isolette, the clear box that kept her warm and tried to mimic a mother's womb.
We were told to wait right outside. All of us were heartbroken. I don't think my then 4 year old understood what was happening although he pretended he did and did not say a word. We were taken into an enclosed room where we impatiently waited to hold our baby for the very first and the very last time. I should've held her longer. We held her until she was no longer alive and closed her tiny eyes as we said goodbye forever.
Now the Twins' second birthday is right around the corner. I am very excited about celebrating with Sophie, our beautiful princess that we get to keep in our lives forever. She is such a happy and gorgeous little girl. Her smile is contagious, her golden curls never go unnoticed, and her insistence make her win every battle she encounters. I love my girl so much so why do I want to cry when I picture us celebrating her birthday ?
Sophie's birthday brings joy and tears to my eyes. Last year, I could not celebrate it at all because it was just too painful. The thought of Grace not being here brings back so many feelings of broken dreams, and broken hearts. Although I always kept my feelings to myself, the first year of Sophie's life was emotionally draining. I could not sing to her and sometimes it was difficult to even look at her without thinking that one baby was missing. I always tried to steer my mind from those thoughts by saying to myself that at least I still have her, things could've been much, much worse, if Sophie had not survived prematurity. The twins were born when I was 27 weeks pregnant due to many reasons. I blame myself all the time for Grace's death. Did I not try hard enough to stay preganant for longer? as if I could have controlled that. Maybe I did not do enough oxygen therapies to help them thrive in the womb, or drink enough protein, or take enough pre-natal vitamins. I should have taken Folic acid since I was very young, maybe that would've made a difference. I go over a million case scenarios inside my head. Things I could have done differently that would mean that Grace would be with us now. Sometimes I cry because I think I did not try hard enough, why was I so stubborn not to want to stay at the hospital in bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy? Considering what kind of I person I think I am at that point, I totally don't deserve the wonderful kids that I have. Just as I am in the verge of becoming manic about my daughter's death and my other's daughter lifetime disability, a wise voice inside of me takes over... The voice tells me that it was natural to feel anxious and stressed out after weeks in and out of the hospital, it tells me that while I was there I was doing everything I could to save the lives of my two girls. I learned to question doctors and nurses. I learned to go beyond my local borders looking for answers. I called many hospitals in many states, talked to many doctors in Florida and other states. I did what I could but that was not enough.
Dear Grace, I want to say I am sorry, that I love you and miss you to tears. Happy birthday Grace Katherine, wherever you are my little angel. I will love you and mis you every day of my life, I LOVE YOU TO ETERNITY...
