SydneysStory13

Sydney's Story

Walking down to the private room where we would hold Sydney for the last time, I told Brian I felt like I was walking down death row. I couldn�t believe that our daughter had just a few moments left to live. We didn�t know exactly how long she would survive without help from the machines, but we knew it wouldn�t be nearly long enough. I had asked that there be a rocking chair in the room because I had never rocked Sydney. There was. I sat in it and Brian sat beside me in another chair and we waited. He told me that he was going to let me hold Sydney the entire time because I hadn�t been allowed to hold her much. He had held her longer at UVA. What a loving gesture. I told him that I wanted to be sure to take her over to the window so she could see the sunshine. I heard

Kelsea outside the door and knew Tera was with her.

When the door opened, tears overflowed. I could see the nurse carrying the most precious bundle ever. She handed Sydney to me and I said, "Oh my" smiling and crying at the same time. It was the first time I had seen Sydney�s beautiful face without all the tubes. She was wrapped in two little blankets and had on a tiny gown printed with footprints. She also had on a homemade little hat. "Hi, Sweetie. It�s Mommy. Mommy�s here. It�s going to be okay." I said through my tears. I stopped crying, knowing what I needed to do. I didn�t want Sydney�s last few minutes with us to be filled with tears and bawling. Instead I began singing Jesus Loves Me to her. I stopped when I realized Kelsea wasn�t in the room. Brian went to get her and I said, "I want to hold her. I want to hold my two girls. I want a picture of me holding my two girls." I will never forget the way Kelsea looked at Sydney. Such love. Kelsea reached out to touch her baby sister. I was amazed at how well Sydney was focusing.

Before when she tried to focus, her eyes moved quickly back and forth. Now it was as if she was looking right in our eyes. Brian knelt down beside the rocker while I was holding the girls, and the nurse took a picture. It is my favorite family picture.

After a few minutes, Kelsea was ready to leave. I didn�t want her to be in the room when Sydney died, so I said she could go back with Tera. First, she gave Sydney a kiss and told her good-bye. This was the last time the two sisters would ever see one another. Their final good-bye.

When Kelsea left, I told Brian to talk to Sydney. The nurse asked if he wanted to hold Sydney and he said he was going to let me hold her. Instead, he knelt beside me again and talked to her. He kissed her several times as did I. We could tell she was having trouble breathing. Her tongue was stuck out the entire time, trying her best to breathe. It was so hard to see her gasping for air. She fought so, so hard. I desperately wanted to make her better. She looked into my eyes and even now sometimes I wonder if she was saying,

"Mommy, why don�t you do something? Why won�t you help me?" As much as I longed for her to stay with me, with every ounce of my being, I urged her to go with the angels. I just didn�t want her to suffer. I told her she was going to feel so good. She wasn�t going to hurt anymore. I told her she had lots of people waiting for her in Heaven, waiting to hold her. I told her it was okay. We understood. It was okay to go with the angels and not to fight anymore. She could watch out for us. She would be our own little guardian angel. How I was able to tell her such things when my heart screamed for me to tell her to fight, I don�t know.

A few times we thought Sydney had gone to Heaven. However, she would then take another deep breath and we knew she was still fighting. We continued talking to her, singing to her, and kissing her. Mommy and Daddy were there. She was not alone. We would not leave her. We loved her and always would. She would always be our special baby girl. While looking at her sweet face, we realized we hadn�t seen her take a breath in a few minutes. The nurse walked over, I asked the other lady not to video anymore, and she checked for a pulse. There was none. Our little girl was gone. I was still holding her in my arms, but she was gone. She was safe now and no longer hurting. She was with the angels. Her suffering had ended and ours was just beginning. We would see her again one day in Heaven, but for now we would mourn her. We would grieve as we have never grieved before. We did feel a great sense of peace, knowing Sydney was smiling down at us, but our hearts were broken and they never will completely heal. The nurse went to get

Dr. M and he, too, checked for a pulse. It was official. He pronounced Sydney dead at 3:06 PM. Sydney had graced us with her presence for 5 days, 6 hours, and 31 minutes. Not nearly long enough. Dr. M walked over to us and told us he was sorry.

We spent a few moments alone with Sydney. I got up from the rocking chair and handed Sydney to Brian. He sat down, looked at her sweet face, and cried. The nurse took a picture and I think it is the one that speaks with the most emotion. A devastated father holding his daughter�s lifeless body. The nurse left and when she returned she told us our families were anxious to come in. We told her to let them in. Each member of our family, walked in, tears in their eyes, and hugged us. A few held Sydney, kissing her, telling her good-bye even though she was already gone. None of them held her for too long because they wanted to make sure Mommy got to spend every second possible holding her. I would never get another chance.

9/22/00(pg 2)