Back in 1986, things were so much different than they are today when it comes to taking photos of infant newborns who are born critically ill. For this reason, I can really only speak to my own personal situation, which I am really happy to say is not the normal practice today. Thankfully.
My very best photo is that which I have in my mind's eye.
After delivering my daughters by cesarean section in the wee hours of the morning on Thursday, November 27th, we waited anxiously to see our babies who had been transported from the Grace Hospital to BC Children's Hospital. Fortunately, the two hospitals were linked together through hallways so the babies were not subjected to an airlift or an ambulance ride.
As the hours ticked by, we waited and waited but neither of us thought to ask for our camera to be sent to us. Not surprisingly, we were thinking about seeing our girls, not measuring their lives in hours through the lens of a camera. When we did arrive in the Intensive Care Nursery at BC Children's Hospital, we were first taken to Jana. She was so beautiful. The birthmark on her right leg that matched mine will forever be held tight with my memories of her, but I will never have a photo to show you. Jana was tiny, weighing barely more than a pound, but that was hardly noticeable to me. She looked perfect to me inside her incubator. Her body was perfectly formed with hair, eyes, nose, ears, fingers, legs, toes. Every part of her was beautiful. In some ways, I feel embarrassed to admit that I kind of raced through seeing her because I had 2 more daughters to see and Jana looked so perfect that I had no hesitation leaving her side. I was ready to see my next baby not knowing that I would never again see Jana. This would be my only memory of her, and I would never have a live photo of her.
I motioned to the nurse to take me to see my next daughter, this time, Laura. My time with Laura was truly a miracle. The time with her is still so vivid in my mind, even after nearly 30 years. From my stretcher, I leaned in through the holes of the incubator to touch every part of Laura that I could reach. From the very early stages of my pregnancy, I grew an incredibly close bond with this baby and now, for the first time ever, we were together here in the nursery of the Intensive Care Unit. Laura could not have been more perfect. I watched every breath she drew as I prayed for her, and turned to my husband and asked if he would have the nurses send for my camera. My husband replied that there would be plenty of time for that. Sadly, there was not. Laura was my tiniest baby as she was the donor of the twin-to-twin transfusion.
When I was ready, the nurses took me into a separate special needs nursery at the Intensive Care Unit where we met with Jessica. She was in this nursery alone. Words cannot really describe the pain and hurt I saw when I came to her side. It was so extremely difficult to see my baby girl breathing with so much difficulty. Every breath was so painful for her. With her beautifully arched mouth she was struggling in her early hours of life. She did not have the same pink skin tone as sisters, rather her tone was red. As the recipient of the twin-to-twin transfusion, she was the biggest baby, but also the most unwell. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to reach in her incubator and take her away from all those tubes and sit with her in a rocking chair and hold her. She was mine and I wanted her. I did not want to leave her side but I had to not knowing that I would never see her alive again. Nor would I have a photo of her alive.
There was no time for photos. There was no opportunity to hold my babies alive. There was no time to dress my babies.
The hospital did the best they could after my daughters passed away, and in 1986 that meant a few individual pictures with a black and white Polaroid camera. There are no photos of the 3 girls together.
To this day, I have still not shown my sons the pictures of their sisters as they are horrible, nightmarish.
To counter this, I commissioned an artist to create a pastel rendition of my daughters based on our memories and photos of our sons. I recall the day that the artwork arrived at my home. I was both excited and scared to open it because if it wasn't perfect it too would not have been shown. Nearly 30 years later it continues to be proudly displayed in my home along with all my other family photos. I am so very happy that parents today have much better experiences than we did when it comes to cherishing their loved one's memories.
From my heart to yours,
be kind to yourself
Preview An Angel Walks Beside Me on Amazon here
Follow Me on Twitter @ysocialmedmediaca
My very best photo is that which I have in my mind's eye.
After delivering my daughters by cesarean section in the wee hours of the morning on Thursday, November 27th, we waited anxiously to see our babies who had been transported from the Grace Hospital to BC Children's Hospital. Fortunately, the two hospitals were linked together through hallways so the babies were not subjected to an airlift or an ambulance ride.
As the hours ticked by, we waited and waited but neither of us thought to ask for our camera to be sent to us. Not surprisingly, we were thinking about seeing our girls, not measuring their lives in hours through the lens of a camera. When we did arrive in the Intensive Care Nursery at BC Children's Hospital, we were first taken to Jana. She was so beautiful. The birthmark on her right leg that matched mine will forever be held tight with my memories of her, but I will never have a photo to show you. Jana was tiny, weighing barely more than a pound, but that was hardly noticeable to me. She looked perfect to me inside her incubator. Her body was perfectly formed with hair, eyes, nose, ears, fingers, legs, toes. Every part of her was beautiful. In some ways, I feel embarrassed to admit that I kind of raced through seeing her because I had 2 more daughters to see and Jana looked so perfect that I had no hesitation leaving her side. I was ready to see my next baby not knowing that I would never again see Jana. This would be my only memory of her, and I would never have a live photo of her.
I motioned to the nurse to take me to see my next daughter, this time, Laura. My time with Laura was truly a miracle. The time with her is still so vivid in my mind, even after nearly 30 years. From my stretcher, I leaned in through the holes of the incubator to touch every part of Laura that I could reach. From the very early stages of my pregnancy, I grew an incredibly close bond with this baby and now, for the first time ever, we were together here in the nursery of the Intensive Care Unit. Laura could not have been more perfect. I watched every breath she drew as I prayed for her, and turned to my husband and asked if he would have the nurses send for my camera. My husband replied that there would be plenty of time for that. Sadly, there was not. Laura was my tiniest baby as she was the donor of the twin-to-twin transfusion.
When I was ready, the nurses took me into a separate special needs nursery at the Intensive Care Unit where we met with Jessica. She was in this nursery alone. Words cannot really describe the pain and hurt I saw when I came to her side. It was so extremely difficult to see my baby girl breathing with so much difficulty. Every breath was so painful for her. With her beautifully arched mouth she was struggling in her early hours of life. She did not have the same pink skin tone as sisters, rather her tone was red. As the recipient of the twin-to-twin transfusion, she was the biggest baby, but also the most unwell. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to reach in her incubator and take her away from all those tubes and sit with her in a rocking chair and hold her. She was mine and I wanted her. I did not want to leave her side but I had to not knowing that I would never see her alive again. Nor would I have a photo of her alive.
There was no time for photos. There was no opportunity to hold my babies alive. There was no time to dress my babies.
The hospital did the best they could after my daughters passed away, and in 1986 that meant a few individual pictures with a black and white Polaroid camera. There are no photos of the 3 girls together.
To this day, I have still not shown my sons the pictures of their sisters as they are horrible, nightmarish.
To counter this, I commissioned an artist to create a pastel rendition of my daughters based on our memories and photos of our sons. I recall the day that the artwork arrived at my home. I was both excited and scared to open it because if it wasn't perfect it too would not have been shown. Nearly 30 years later it continues to be proudly displayed in my home along with all my other family photos. I am so very happy that parents today have much better experiences than we did when it comes to cherishing their loved one's memories.
From my heart to yours,
be kind to yourself
Preview An Angel Walks Beside Me on Amazon here
Follow Me on Twitter @ysocialmedmediaca
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