Empty Arms
I find it odd that I originally created this site to share Allie's progress. Today marks two weeks that I have been without my precious Allie, and yet it feels like an eternity since I have been able to hold her in my arms and kiss her little sweet head. My arms ache to hold her, and oh what I would give for just one more kiss. It is extremely difficult adjusting to life without her, because she had pretty much been attached to me for almost 14 months, so I find myself reaching and looking for her and then breaking down when I remember that she is no longer with me. I miss her more and more every day, and I know that only time will ease this pain. We have tried to get out of the house a few times to attempt to get our minds off of things, but that is difficult to do when you go to public places because there are babies everywhere you look. Please don't get us wrong, we are not upset that other people have babies, it is just that seeing babies makes us miss our sweet angel. Even though we expected to loose our Allie one day, it still didn't make it any easier to say goodbye, and I guess it was still a little unexpected because she had been doing so well.
In the big scheme of things, her passing was quick. One week we were receiving a great report from her cardiologist and the next week she was gone. Her condition changed so quickly, but looking back I think the signs were there we just didn't want to accept them. It all started with what we at first thought was a stuffy nose. She seemed to be having trouble breathing, and as the week progressed she worsened. By Thursday she was not eating well, so our heroic neighbor along with Dr. Sabens suggested taking her to Children's Hospital for fluids. She was given fluids through an I.V., and she also had to have some oxygen because her level was low. They did blood work to see what type of infection she had, and like us, when they tried to suction her nose nothing came out. We went to a room and stayed the next night as well for observation, and she seemed to drastically improve. All of her tests showed that she had no infection in her body, she was breathing better, and she was eating again. Saturday, we were discharged with some oxygen, and we were thankful that we had conquered her first trip to the hospital. Only two hours after she had been home, she began to have respiratory trouble (frequent apnea episodes). The Hospice nurse and Dr. Sabens wanted us to take her back to Children's, but we were very reluctant. We asked if we could just observe her through the night, because I think we knew what would happen if she had to go back to the hospital. She did well through the weekend, but on Monday she stopped eating completely. We knew we had to take her back, because we had already decided that no matter what we were going to keep her comfortable, and letting her get dehydrated would not be keeping her comfortable. Therefore, we made the trip back to Children's with horrible thoughts of possibly not getting to bring her back home, running through the back of our minds.
She had to have another I.V., and we chose not to do any other blood work. They decided that it would be best for her to go to the special care unit so that she could be closely monitored due to her frequent apnea episodes. Under our circumstances we were able to stay with her and hold her while she was in the special care unit, and she was monitored through the night. It did not take us long to realize that her time was drawing to a close. When the team of doctors came in the next morning, the focus of discussion had changed. We were now having to make decisions that no parent should ever have to make, and it was extremely overwhelming. Michael and I were basket cases. I have to be honest, it was not easy watching Allie suffer through her last few days. We had many moments of weakness. I vividly remember sobbing uncontrollably, and pleading, and questioniong. I think that if I could have briefly unhooked Allie from the monitors, then Michael could have completely demolished that hospital room in an instant with the monitor machine that was constantly beeping. We are human, and I truely believe that these are normal feelings and that God will forgive us for our weakness. Our main goal was to keep Allie comfortable, and that is what we tried to do. They moved us to a regular room and we started her on morphine to help if she had any pain. She was crying a lot, and the doctors tried to explain that she was not really in pain. They said that she was just exhausted and scared from not being able to catch her breath. Because she was crying so much, it was hard for me not to think that she was in pain. I didn't want her to be in that state of discomfort. On Wednesday Allie's heart rate started correlating with her apnea spells. Her brain was just no longer sending out the proper signals to tell her to breathe, and her little body was having to work too hard. She was such a fighter, and she fought to the very end. Around 5:30 that evening my little angel took her last breath and her heart stopped beating. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and ripped my heart out, but in that same moment there was a sense of peace that fell over me. I could feel the presence of God in that room, and that is when I realized that it was time to let her go. We had watched her suffer for three grueling days, and we knew that she was no longer in pain. I think that we were able to have peace because we knew that she was safe in the arms of Jesus and completely perfect. We were able to give Allie her last bath, did some hand and foot prints, and take a few last pictures. The most difficult moment for me was when I had to hand her over to the nurse and leave the hospital with empty arms. That entire time, from when she had passed until midnight, I was able to be with her and still hold her, and I think that it almost tricked my brain a little because she was so content and looked so peaceful that it was almost like I still had her in my arms just like always. Michael held me close and whispered to me, "It is not really her, Susan." Looking back at her, I knew that it was just her body. She was now an angel in Heaven. I feel so honored to have had Allie as my daughter on earth for almost five months, and she will forever be with me. She touched more lives in those short months than most people do in a lifetime. She was such a blessing, and loved by all. Her big brother also adored her and he asks about her a lot. Even though we have been very honest with him and explained that she has gone to Heaven, he is three and just can't completely comprehend. He gets upset from time to time and says things like, "When is Allie going to get here?", "....but I wanted to play with her!" He misses her dearly, and we know that it is going to just take time for all of us. We have been so touched by everyone's thoughts, prayers, and cards. Thank you all again for all you have done. Please continue to pray that God will give us strength.
