A Privilege

It was so nice to read Chris's lovely post about Jersey's passing, I loved reading it from his perspective. For me, I would like to have record of my thoughts and feelings and so this is not in any way an attempt to out do or override anything Chris wrote. I simply want to remember...


I was privileged to spend all Sunday afternoon alone with my girlie. I was lucky enough to have a tiny hand free of tape to hold! So precious and soft. She had had a rough couple of days and we could sense in the air growing concern. The doctors didn't need to tell us how fragile she was, we sensed it. While I was running my fingers through her monkey hair Jersey's doctor and I had a hard conversation. She expressed the need for Chris and I to make the difficult decision of do they or don't they recessitate Jersey should she need CPR as she had come very close several times. We concluded our conversation and the doctor left the room. I had a pounding in my heart and I knew the time had come, her mission was complete. The rest of the day was uneventful, both her grandparents visited and Chris and I spent the evening together with her.

I was awoken by Jersey's doctor at 12:30 am and was lovingly informed Jersey didn't look good and it was time to call Chris. We were incredibly blessed to have Nicole with us, our favorite nurse who took care of Jersey every weekend. We grew to love her dearly and trust her completely. We were so grateful she was there with us and Jersey. Nicole asked if I wanted to hold her now or later. Absolutely NOW! I waited 6 very long weeks to feel her weight in my arms! She was unhooked from the now unnecessary things (cerebral monitor, dialysis, a few lines), given extra pain medication per my request, wrapped like a burrito, and placed in my arms. I finally had her little body in my arms, something I've longed for since she was born. We rocked back and forth like mommies and babies do. Her and I talked about sparkles, twirling, and how much I would miss her. I let her know how proud of her I was and that it was okay for her to go. Her grandparents each held her for a short time. How quickly the hours passed. What a peaceful, spiritual feeling filled her room. It was quiet, calm, and so very sacred. How we cried and what we would give....

We let her doctor know we were ready. She excused our family leaving just Chris and I. All her medication was turned off except her fentanyl and she was extabated. Chris and I watched her tiny heart beat its last few beats. Sacred. Heart wrenching. Peaceful. We cried together over our little soldier, what a battle she fought. I'll never forget those sacred minutes with Chris and I and our sweet angel girl.

Tatum and Tucker were brought up a little later to finally hold the precious baby they had heard and sacrificed so much for. Tucker asked immediately when we could take her home, I wasn't prepared to answer his rightful question. How do you explain to a 3 year old his baby will never come home? How do you help him understand angels? Tatum loved holding her. She ran her fingers through her hair all the while talking softly to her.

It wasn't the worst day of my life, not even close. It was too peaceful, too sacred, too important and pivotal to be considered negative. A day the veil was so thin. A day we witnessed a heavenly exchange from our arms to our Heavenly Father's. We were partners with Heavenly Father in her creation, how lucky we are! What a privilege! How lucky we were to have her for the few weeks we did. They weren't easy but I wouldn't trade them. Her time here is sacred to my heart and how determined I am to live my life worthy of her. I hope she will always be near. I hope she watches over her big sister and brother who very much miss her. I hope she knows how I love her and how I am forever changed.