Today, when we arrived at the hospital, the social worker sought us out and told us that she would like to have a sit-down meeting with us and the doctors for both Avery and Sienna. We already feared the worst, but tried to enjoy our visits with the girls.
At about noon Robin and I both decided that we needed a little bit of time alone but as I was making my way back toward the NICU I saw Andrea who has been such a friend, not only in this particular hard time but in almost every hard time I have had over the past four years and her kindness hasn’t only been for me, but all of the rest of my extended family and probably far more than I have seen. Andrea walked up with me and waited with Robin and I until we were told that the doctors and social worker were ready to meet with us and then waited until after we were out of the meeting and comforted us. We love you and will forever feel in debt to you, Andrea.
The meeting was much what we expected with the doctors, the social worker, and the director of the NICU basically telling us that they are at the end of what they can do for the girls and that we will have to make a decision based on how the girls are doing. Sienna still hasn’t passed any urine and eventually her heart will not be able to handle the toxins that have built up in her body. That is on top of the already serious brain bleeds that she has suffered. Avery’s head continues to swell and we were told that due to the swelling and the fact that her poor brain has suffered so much she likely will never have normal motor functions. The doctors and nursing staff will continue to resuscitate the girls but warned us that in doing so we will likely be causing pain and still accomplishing almost nothing. Robin and I are torn. We don’t want to lose our daughters without a fight but we also don’t want our daughters to suffer. They told us what their procedures are for when this time comes and said that we could hold the girls even before, a practice they don’t usually employ. Also in the room were two of the most Saintly of Angels I have ever met. Two women (their primary nurses) who have tried the best they could to provide us with some sense of normalcy throughout this journey. One of them wept.
Robin and I sat alone in that room for a while after all of the others left and decided that we would like to hold the girls. We first held Sienna. Her little eyes opened and she looked at her Mommy while I was holding her. As I rocked her back and forth I tried to imagine that we were in their room at home. When Robin took over there was an absolute glow of peace in Si’s beautiful little eyes. We then held Avery. Her eyes still haven’t opened but she seemed so peaceful laying there in my arms. As Robin held her both she and I were consumed with the emotions of the moment and with neither of us feeling well we had to leave. Before I could though, her nurse insisted that I help with placing Avery down in the bed. At the end of each visit Robin and I got to kiss each girl. I feel much better having done so.
This journey has been the absolute worst thing that I have ever dealt with in my entire life. I would never wish it upon anyone else. I have however, looked into the eyes of Angels along the way. Our nurses in the labor and delivery and then recovery area were all wonderful. The doctors who have guided us along the way, but were always sure to give us the bad news as well as the good. The social worker who made sure to talk to us each time that she was there during our visits. And the wonderful, wonderful nurses that greeted us with smiles and cared for our girls the best that they could at all hours of the day and night. The friends that I have made along the way, Mike, K. and J., A. and Y., R. and S.-my heart and prayers will be with each of you as your children continue their long journey home. Our families, neighbors, and friends-all of you have provided us with support and help, even those of you across the country. Everyone that has prayed and asked that our girls be prayed for. All of you are our Angels. Above all else our daughters, Avery Rose and Sienna Grace. We love you both.
As Robin and I prepare ourselves for another visit, we have yet to tell the doctors exactly what we want. We will talk about that in the coming hours. I doubt, though, that I shall post anything to this blog again, barring a miracle. Thank you all for reading and praying for and supporting us.