Wednesday, June 9, 2010
I don't know what time I awoke the next morning, but I think it was around eight or so. Some nurse was looking in my door when I awoke, and she must have been watching me because I heard Dr. D ask her if I was awake yet. He then entered my room, told me there had been a little trouble last night, and I said, "She's dead, isn't she?" He confirmed that she was, and I said , "Bring her to me." Dr. D. said that that wasn't a good idea, that we would probably want to have a little service for her and I could see her then. I asked him again, and I was refused again. Then he started talking about an autopsy, and mentioned that she had been doing so well, he wanted to know what caused her sudden demise. In retrospect, I should have told him to bring me the baby and I would sign for an autopsy. I was brought up to respect doctors, preachers, and teachers. I didn't want to argue with him, so I did sign the papers for an autopsy. Of course, I was crying all this time, and Dr. D asked the nurse to bring a "shot". I didn't want any sedatives, I wanted to keep my head clear so I could think. I was forced to take the shot. No baby to hold, a shot that muddled my brain, and no chance to see my baby that I wanted so badly. I called my husband to tell him Meredith was gone, and I was the first to let him know. I couldn't believe the hospital didn't call him so he could come up there and we could be together to receive the sad news. He arrived as quickly as he could, and my father in law and sister in law came, too. The nursing staff was hurriedly trying to take care of my needs so I could be dismissed. One nurse brought the dreaded "iron" shot and I begged her to please not give it to me, but she did anyway. I asked her for my baby's plastic ID bracelet, that matched the one I wore. She said someone would bring it to me. I waited and finally a woman from the morgue brought me a beaded bracelet, with pink and white beads and our last name spelled out in the beads. I knew that was not Meredith's bracelet. I know they had quickly made it up for me. I asked the woman about the bracelet like mine, and showed her what I meant, and I realized that she had no idea what I meant. For all I know, she could have been a cleaning lady that a nurse grabbed and sent to my room with this fabricated bracelet. The sedatives were taking affect and I gave up the fight. I didn't ask to hold my baby or get her bracelet again. No mementos of Meredith's were given to us - no footprints, no handprints, no crib card, no lock of hair, nothing. I didn't know her statistics. We arrived at the hospital full of hopes and dreams, and left broken hearted, empty handed, and defeated. It was raining when we arrived home - raining outside and storming in our hearts.