When Madeline was in the PICU, I was aware there was another child there, a baby. Our curtain was always drawn for a semblance of privacy, so I never actually saw the baby. But my mind tells me it was a boy, and a young one. The ICU is different than the rest of the pediatrics floor in that a parent doesn’t always have to be with the child. It sounds awful but often times parents have to work – it’s just the way it is.
During Maddie’s code, I remembered the little boy was there when his mom came in to visit him. She was shooed out by the nurses – during emergencies, no other families are allowed in the ICU. This had happened to us when Maddie was in the NICU. We’d be sitting at her side when an emergency arose, and we’d be ushered out.
I happened to look at the woman when she was being explained the situation, and she locked eyes with me. I saw her stricken face, and her look of terror.
I forgot about her the second I looked back to Madeline.
After it was over, and I was cradling my baby in my arms for the last time, I heard the nurses whispering about the mom of the baby boy, who was in the waiting room directly outside the PICU. I realized she’d heard everything that had gone down. The doctor’s countdown. Us begging for them to not give up. My screaming when they did.
She wouldn’t be allowed to see her baby until we were done with ours.
I never wanted to leave Madeline. I think if it hadn’t been for that mom, I’d still be in that corner of the PICU, holding and rocking my baby’s body. But as soon as I knew the woman was waiting to hold her living son, I felt rushed. I felt selfish. I’d been that scared mom in the waiting room, and I was keeping her from her son. And so, I carefully wrapped my baby in blankets, gave her kisses and smelled her hair one last time, and left her there so the other mom could enter the PICU.
Sometimes I’m glad I did it, but most of the time, I can’t believe I left.
Sugar Jones says:
Oh Heather…
Jenn says:
I don’t think I will ever be able to hear accounts of that horrific night without crying. Too be honest Heather. I bet one of the things that mom probably so wanted to do was take YOU in her arms and comfort you. When she looked at you in horror, she was connecting with you…from my terrified mama to another. She probably did hear all that went on and I bet as you wept for Maddie, she wept for you. I know I sure do.
Mommy of 4! says:
You said it perfectly, I completely agree
suzanne says:
I can’t say it any better than this, so I will just reiterate this comment — and add that I realized when I got to the end of this post that I was holding my breath. You are an amazing woman, and Madeline was an amazing little girl.
Denise Jones says:
Ditto! Hugs to you and your family, Heather. What a caring, unselfish thing for you to do, in the midst of your own terrible crisis.
Angie M. says:
exactly what Jenn said!
hugs Heather. my heart breaks for you
Shannon Leon-Etnyre says:
ditto
Erin W says:
Oh Heather…I am so sorry…my heart is so broken for you. Jenn said it all.
Clarissa G. says:
My heart aches for you…
:[
Jayne says:
My little girl has a complicated birth and came into the world unable to breathe, suck or regulate her blood pressure on her own. She was taken into our NICU unit, and though I thank God, or whoever it was who helped her through, I look back and feel guilty for every second that I didn’t spend by her incubator.
I am always so touched by your posts about Maddie, and feel blessed that you have chosen to share your memories of her with all of us. Don’t ever feel bad that you walked out of that unit, Maddie will be with you wherever you are.
Kate @ UpsideBackwards says:
Oh Heather, how awful. Awfulness on awfulness. My heart is torn in two for both you and that other mother. Sending lots of love.
Laura says:
Long before I was a mom, my own mom used to say that once you have children, you can no longer read or hear about anything bad happening to a child or any pain a mom feels without being deeply and profoundly affected yourself.
She was correct.
I don’t even have words to offer. I truly cannot imagine.
JenGid says:
She was so right. I have physical pain in my chest from reading today’s post, yet I have never laid eyes on any member of this family. This pain transcends.
Ellie says:
Yes. This post–the sheer honesty and emotion– it hit like a punch in the stomach. I wish you had never lived through this. I wish I knew some way to ease your pain.
Elizabeth says:
Ditto to all the above. My heart just aches for you. Much love and hugs and prayers
suzy says:
my heart literally hurts reading this and i hope that sharing this with us lets us take some of that burden for you. i’m sure we would all gladly take a bit of it for you if it would ease your pain.
Leah says:
This is so true.
Jen says:
My heart breaks for you. Hugs and love H. All my hugs and love.
Jen says:
My heart breaks for you. Hugs and love H. All my hugs and love.
pamela @vampiresmitten says:
</3
Sending you and that other mom lots of love today.
Sally says:
I’m quite sure that mum thinks of you all the time. All. The. Time.
Those moments of horror do stay with us forever though, don’t they. I feel like my own moments of horror play on a constant loop inside my head. Some days I am able to ignore it, other days I can’t for the life of me escape it.
Much love to you, mama.
xo
Gemini-Girl says:
how i love you.
Lynnette says:
My heart cries for you, Heather. You walking out for that other mother was your first step of honoring Maddie’s memory. She would have wanted that little boy to be with his mother. She was that generous. You are that generous. Sending love your way.
edenland says:
What an absolutely beautiful comment.
J in Eire says:
This is such a beautiful way of putting it. I hope the warm memories of Maddies laugh and sense of fun wrap you in love Heather and keep the dark memories away.
Laney says:
Perfectly and beautifully said, Lynnette.
I have nothing to add except that I am sending love your way too.
Robyn says:
Beautifully said. I completely agree. Sending you lots of love, Heather.
megan says:
yes, this, exactly. blessings to you, Heather.
Lynn from For Love or Funny says:
In the midst of your unfathomable grief, you were able to think of “the other mother’s” need to see her son. This is probably one of the most beautiful posts I’ve ever read.
debi says:
Yes, I agree. Heather you are an amazing mother.
Meg...CT says:
Heartbreaking…wishing you peace.
Sue says:
Hugs, and much love to you, Heather, with tears streaming down my face,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Jacqueline says:
Reading about your memories of that day breaks my heart, so I can’t even begin to imagine what it feels like for you when you go back to that day. I pray that you see your Maddie one day [long from now].
That poor baby deserved to be in this world. Life can be so cruel.
Heather says:
I wish I had words to say that could comfort you and Mike, to any other parent who has suffered a loss…
I think that you did an incredibly remarkable and brave thing, and I’m certain that other parent felt nothing but compassion and love for you in that minute.
Alison says:
You are so compassionate and generous in spirit. Even at that moment, the most terrible moment of your whole life, you thought of that other mother. I’m sure she thinks of you.
Marcy Massura says:
Tears….
These moments in life are ‘snapshot memories’ you can recall details of the event with perfect clarity and others seem a little out of focus.
I am just stunned by your ability to retell the horror with such compassion for another human in the background of your snapshot…..
Be well.
DefendUSA says:
I have found over the years, that as mommies, we tend to unconsciously be aware of what other mommies are going through and sometimes the instinct to help or offer whatever we have to give is all there is. That was all you had left at the moment. It was selfless, because that’s the way a Mommy is!
Claire says:
Reading that hurt my heart. Sending you a thousand hugs.
AmazingGreis says:
Oh Heather!! Love and lots of hugs to you…today and always!
Mommy of 4! says:
@ Jenn you said it perfectly. And Heather I cannot even begin to tell you how profoundly your story touches me daily. Every single part of it, the ups the downs, miracles and tragedies and most of all your bravery in being able to tell it. Ive sat at the computer crying in grief for you and your family and my husband once asked me why I continue to read on. But how could I not? Your strength and ability to continue after living through the absolute worse that life can offer inspires me and puts life’s trivial b.s. in place. And while I love my children with every fiber of my being sometimes I take their well being for granted but since reading your accounts of losing Maddie I dont. I revel in every single glorious moment now, never again to be overlooked.
I think you are doing a beautiful thing by sharing all that you do Heather and your doing it with a strength and grace that inspires mothers all over the world. I will forever remember your Maddie and I just wanted you to know that. I pray for peace for you and your family for all the rest of your days
Jane says:
I don’t know what to say -there’s an enormous lump in my throat and if I could hug you, it would break a rib.
Mothers should never be rushed.
x
Kristen says:
That is one of the most compassionate and unselfish acts I have heard of in a long time. People like you really restore my faith in others. Hugs to you and your family.
amy says:
I agree..
And also think this woman thinks of you to this day…
Rachel says:
Oh, I am so sorry. My heart is heavy for yours.
Thank you for being real and sharing your story.
(((hugs)))
Jana A says:
Oh, Heather… this brought memories flooding back from our PICU days and the other parents that were there. Wishing you AND the other mother peace today and always.
Anna Marie says:
Oh Heather. I am gut-punched everytime I read your accounts of that night. My heart breaks for you over and over.
Staci says:
I’m so sorry, Heather. I can’t imagine all that you’ve felt. Its obviously still so raw. But, I think you can rest in knowing you acted in the moment and did what your heart said was right. Don’t doubt yourself for a second.
Missy says:
Your heart. Your heart is so big. Many of your posts are touching. But Heather, this one, this post shows who you really are. May you be blessed a thousand times over for what you did for another person on the darkest day in your life.
mel says:
I can only say I’m sorry and wish I could give you all the hugs and love I have in me. Today and always.
J from Ireland says:
Oh my god, how awful for you, my dear. My thoughts and prayers go out to you.
Barnmaven says:
This is haunting and profoundly sad. Thinking of you with love.
Lisa says:
I imagine that mom, as much as she wanted in that room to hug her son, wanted in that room to hug you as well, one mom to another.
Endless love and hugs today and always.
Deidre Blair says:
Don’t focus on that, although 10 years later, I still focus on the fact that I left my husband in a rush. I was rushing to get home to our toddler, but she was sound asleep. Unaware of anything that had happened that evening…why was I such in a rush to leave my husbands side? I think I was trying to show him, since I was now the only parent, I should be home with our baby. After all it was midnight….
I left my Dad to early 2 years ago this Friday. I can’t even go there yet. Maybe in several years I will have the strenght to talk about this. We will always think we left to early. What is the appropriate time to stay with the deceased? People in other countries stay for days. I am into that custom. We are so darn rushed in America today. xoxo
Melina E. says:
Reading that…I felt like I was standing there with you. And it hurt.
Sorry isn’t enough, just isn’t. I don’t know how you handle it, I’d want to die too.
Christine says:
Sending you so, so much love.
Deborah says:
(((hugs)))
Lisa says:
I am so very sorry your heart was not only torn in pieces but tormented with feelings for another mom and child. No parents should ever be in that place. Even in the mist of your pain your thought of someone else, you are a very kind hearted soul. My God continue to knit your heart back togther and bring you peace.
Veronika says:
When my son was in NICU, I came in one day to see a privacy screen drawn with doctors and nurses frantically working on a little baby. The only glimps I ever got of her, was a purple little thigh and foot. I left the NICU, not because we had to, but because I had to go and pump for my son. When I came back, everything was quiet and I asked the one nurse if the little baby was ok. She just shook her head. A day or two later, I saw her mama coming through the NICU. There was a horrible mix up and she had to come into the NICU to try and clear up the mess. And I will never, ever forget how lost she looked. My heart aches for her to this day. And if I even dare to imagine how lost you must feel without Maddie, my heart will just break into a million pieces. There are no words I can even try to offer to comfort you, just {{ hugs }}. I would have stayed outside the NICU for eternity if it had given that mama just one more moment to hold her little girl.
candice says:
That’s a beautiful, selfless thing you did for that mom.
Frannie C says:
My heart is just aching for you. I’m going to be a Mama soon and its just made me realise how sacred life is.
Reading that made me feel I was right there with you.
We all will be right with you, Heather.
You are so selfless, its makes it all the more harder xo
Katie in WI says:
This just breaks my heart.
Momma Chaos says:
Every single time I read your blog my heart aches for you. Whether it’s a post like this one or a happy post about Annabel, I can feel your heart aching for Maddie. Words can’t express what I want to say so I’ll just send you {{{{hugs}}}}
Audrey says:
Trying to dry the spent tears and choke back new ones. What a choice you made. Sometimes I fantasize about going to the PICU, where I [too] last held my baby, but to read your story and to feel that pain again makes me wonder if I ever could.
TAMI says:
Oh Heather my heart aches for you everytime I read about you losing Maddie. I cant imagine myself in your shoes and feel the fear of losing your child. I hope I never have to. With having a child with Downs I always fear of losing him when he is sick. I just hope God looks over him and never takes my special baby from me.
What a hard time for you. I will keep you in my prayers!,
Hugs,
susan says:
heather,
you did the most unselfish thing another person could do under those conditions. i can’t believe you were even AWARE of any other person in the world other than maddie! that other mother must have been wanting to hold YOU not her little boy….you gave her such a gift that day. the gift of humanity. the beauty of your soul continues to shine through even in your grief….with every word you write. keep on keeping on, sista!
susan
Susan says:
just listening…
michelle h says:
Powerful post. I’m in tears. Thank you for sharing.
LisaJ says:
Oh, Mama.
How my heart breaks for you. Each time I find myself clicking back on past stories, I hold my breath praying that this time the words will have changed, and that it won’t be true. And yet, I still cannot imagine the physically emotional pain that surrounds you and Mike.
You are the most unselfish person I have ever come across. I want you to know that. And I come across many people, every single day. But you, Heather, stand out as an unselfish person who has made a horrific event contribute to a positive goal. And though I can only imagine how much you would push that all aside for just one more moment, I want to thank you. Thank you for fighting for other babies, for other moms. Thank you for loving your daughter so much that you carry on the good work in her name.
I was an NICU mom twice. Many years ago, and for a far briefer time than you or others. But I remember the terror of leaving, every time. It doesn’t even touch the ground of where you are standing…but when I think of it, my heart races, my stomach knots, and I remember the loneliness of it all. I know you know this–but YOU help to lessen that loneliness. You and Madeline give, every single day. And while I know that is likely a cold comfort some days, I needed to tell you that your amazing, beautiful, magical little girl changed this life for the better.
Big, squishy hugs, Heather.
catherine lucas says:
it would not be given to everyone to think about the other mom in their own worst moment of pain, but you did and it makes my already huge appreciation for you even bigger. It was the right thing to do Heather, hard, probably THE hardest thing you will ever have to or have done, but it was the right thing to do. Bless you…
elz says:
Oh my …my heart still breaks for yours.
Ms. Moon says:
This may have moved me as much as anything I’ve ever read.
Rebecca says:
Cyber hugs and sunshine…..cyber hugs and sunshine.
Alicia says:
I sometimes can’t believe the things you write. Not that I don’t believe them; I just can’t believe they’re possible. I wish your sweet girl was still with you in this world. There’s nothing else to say.
Kelly Woolen says:
Oh my goodness Heather. I have come here every day for over a year and a half now. I don’t know how you did it, I don’t know how you continue to do it every day. Thank you so much for continuing to share your stories, your pain and most of all Madeline. You are making an impact and a difference.
Kelly says:
Heather, I can’t even fathom what you went through. As I read it through your very vivid words, I cannot do anything but cry. I think about you and Mike often. I know your life here will never be whole and I just want to surround you with hugs and a listening ear. Your Maddie (and your Annie) are worth hearing about!
Lara says:
My sweet 17yo cousin battled cancer for over two years, in September 2009 he lost his fight with Rhabdomyosarcoma.
While we were at the visitation and funeral we couldn’t help but notice that my Aunt was making her way through what seemed like the millions of people who came, to seek out her childrens’ friends to offer them comfort and support. My jaw just dropped. How could she be doing that? She was filled with anguish and grief and she was seeking out to offer support to others… shouldn’t it be the other way around?
That day she became my new personal hero. She is honestly the strongest person I know. She put aside her grief to make sure that HIS friends knew that they were loved, and that they were still important to her. AMAZING.
I think that day that you just knew. You knew what it felt like to be the Mom in the hall, praying not only for your baby, but a baby you don’t even know.
(((hugs))) Heather. Great big (((hugs)))
Jamie says:
This one hurt, Heather. And as much as it hurt to read, I can only imagine how much it must hurt you to have both written and lived it. THe fact that you managed to be so selfless at your very worst moment speaks so strongly about who you are.
Gale says:
Once we become mothers, in some way we are every mother. You knew her pain and her fear. And that her feelings would matter to you in that moment speaks volumes about you. You’ve always said that you hope that your readers hug our kids extra hard as a result of your blog. I guarantee you that the Other Mother was the first one to do so.
Skye says:
The compassion you showed for that mother shows that you were still a mother in that moment. You were still a mommy after you lost Maddie, and you would be even if you had never had Annabel. Maddie made you a mommy, and no one can ever take that away.
And you are one freaking amazing mommy!
Elizabeth says:
You are simply amazing….
Traci says:
My baby coded on Sunday and although they were able to bring her back I feel the guilt of having to leave for even a minute. I read your blog for strength and inspiration. Thank you so much for sharing these kind of moments.
Nikki says:
Heather, you continue to inspire me with your selflessness. I’m sure that other mother was thinking and praying for you, both then and now.
I am, and countless others too…
I’m so sorry sweet Maddie isnt here, and that you had to endure the pain of those moments. Sending you lots of (((((HUGS)))))) and love and thoughts of beautiful Madeline.
XOXO from GA,
Nikki
Jennifer says:
It’s so true that becoming a mother changes us forever. I think that we are forever connected by the experience and spiritual aspects. We hear about your pain, and I don’t think it’s so much imagining how we would feel, instead I think we do feel the pain with you. I can’t even fathom how that day felt-I bawl my eyes out just reading it because no one should have to go through that. I am also positive that the other mother thinks of you often-being there had to change her. Reading about Maddie changes me.
Crystal Faulk says:
I am praying for you. I read your blog every morning and as I read this morning I found myself crying. My heart breaks for you and I pray for you everyday. I think of you daily and I admire you more than you could ever imagine.
Kim says:
Raw emotions that made me cry. My son was in the PICU when several shooings happened. One for my son who was getting a drain removed. Happy shooing. That lady was an angel sent to remind you of life.
Elle says:
My heart aches for you, Heather and I’m sure that mother still thinks about you too.
Jaime says:
I just to say that I think about Maddie all the time, and when I walk my dog and baby girl in the park, I see this birdhouse http://www.flickr.com/photos/mrsmaynard/5145547677/in/photostream/ and always stop and think of you, so I took a picture to share. I never met Maddie, but as a mom, and loss mom, I love her none the less.
Trisha Vargas says:
Oh how my heart hurts for you. It’s these stories of that horrible night that make me cry the most with you.
I am sure that mother remembers you as you remember her and I can only imagine that she has weapt for you often.
(((HUGS))) from Florida
nic @mybottlesup says:
i’m at a loss for words, heather.
but i wanted you to know that i’m reading.
Deirdre says:
As many of your posts about that day do, this one leaves me crying. My sister-in-law had a baby who passed away when he was two weeks old because of multiple complications/conditions. I spent a great deal of time with her during those two weeks at the hospital and there are certain memories that are still so real that just thinking about them brings me right back to that specific moment. One of them is after my nephew passed away, walking my sister-in-law out of the hospital for the last time. I remember the looks of the other parents as they realized what had happened. We physically had to help walk her out because she didn’t want to leave him. I’m still not sure how she found the strength to leave. Your post brings me right back to that moment. I didn’t have kids back when my nephew died, but intuitively I knew, even though the baby’s spirit was not really there anymore, leaving one’s baby behind had to be the hardest thing a mother ever would do.
My thoughts are with you.
Brittani Johnson says:
Hey Heather. I’ve never commented before, but I’ve been following your blog since last April. My friend Molly gave me the link to your blog shortly after you lost Maddie, thinking it would help me through my own grief.
I lost my baby girl after 8 and a half months gestation. She was a live birth, and lived for 36 hours before she lost all brain function and her organs shut down. My husband and I had to make the choice to pull the plug.
I had pre- eclampsia, which was totally random and unexplained because at the time, I was 19 years old. Usually that’s a disorder for women in their late thirties, early forties.
Anyway, I’ve been following for a long time and have often found great comfort and solidarity in your writing. Many of the times, what you say is exactly how I feel. One of your blogs I most identified with was ‘grief dance’. However, I feel very strongly about this blog, too.
After we told the doctors to unhook our baby girl Claire from the machines, we had about two hours with her before her heart and breathing stopped completely. We sat in the family room of the hospital while she died, taking turns holding her, rocking her, and telling her things. I don’t remember a lot of what we talked about.
What I remember most, is when we decided to let the nurses take her away. They had been coming in regularly to check her heart beat, and they were both crying with us. I remember the look on one’s face when she asked us, “Are you sure?”
I remember thinking that she was gone. It was just a body, and our baby girl wasn’t in there any more. We went back to my hospital room and cried. I felt so sure that I was doing the right thing at the time, but sometimes I wonder why I didn’t stay there longer. Why didn’t I hang onto her for a few more minutes?
Thanks for letting me share that with you.
-Brittani
susan says:
brittani,
i am so sorry for the loss of your little claire. thank you for sharing your story….
susan
Rachel says:
My god, how wrenching.
Sending so much love through the Interwebs. There are just no words.
Colleen says:
That mother, whoever she is, loves and appreciates you every single moment of every day.
Sending you a huge mental hug and lots, and lots of love.
Glenda says:
My heart aches for you and Mike. Sending you hugsssss. Through all of your heartbreak and grief you thought about the other mother. You are an inspiration to all mothers!
Sandra says:
Tears in my eyes for you and your family.
Maria says:
Tears, chills, speechless.
We experienced the NICU with our 2nd and it’s a world in and of its own. The sounds, smells, and emotions leave you feeling like you are in another world. I cannot imagine what it was like to leave that world without your beautiful baby girl.
So many memories of my kids younger years are gone, but those memories of being alone in the Ronald McDonald House willing the phone not to ring, bringing pumped milk to a refrig in the middle of the night…those memories still haunt me and are very clear in my memory.
Prayers and hugs coming your way.
Libby says:
Heart-wrenching, Heather. I read this post early this morning and you’ve been on my mind all day. peace to you. You are an amazing mom.
Terra says:
Sitting here speechless and in pain for you. Many, many hugs to you from Idaho. Lovies to Annie.
Liz says:
My God, Heather. There are no words. I can’t believe you manage to find the words anyway.
Funsize says:
My son was waiting for me in my hospital room, in those little plastic cubbies that babies lay in. He was dressed in a hospital onesie, blanket, and a little hat. I held him and oogled over him, but it only seems like I did so for 5 minutes. It was so hard to tell the nurses that I was “done”, and they could take him away. It’s so hard to replay watching him being wheeled out of my room. When you hold your baby for the last time, I don’t think any time feels long enough, and it’s so hard to let go.
lots of love
Issa says:
I have no words. Just hugs and tons and tons of love for you.
Emily says:
Heather, my heart aches for you … And the phrase “the doctor’s countdown” literally makes me feel sick to my stomach.
I just can’t even imagine …
Karishma says:
oh lord, heather, every time i hear an account of that night, i’m reminded that i can’t even begin to imagine what you and mike are going through. it says so much about your unbelievable selflessness and kindness that you decided to let that mother see her child even at that moment, and i am so sure that she would never, ever begrudge you for any of the time she was outside of that room. i am sure she thinks of you all the time. you are amazing, for being able to write these posts.
Bridget says:
Oh Heather, that you ever had to leave that room is horrific, tragic, disgusting, unfair, perverse. No matter if it was 1hr or 24hrs, would it have ever been enough time? The fact that you thought of another person and their desire to see their child as you just lost yours seems amazing to me. It was in the act of thinking of the Other Mother that you took your first step (of many that have followed) to give Maddie’s life so much meaning. She is an ambassador of love. The Other Mother was the first to experience her legacy and I guarantee she is forever changed by that night.
Trish says:
My heart hurts for you. You are in my thoughts and prayers daily. You are incredibly strong to keep moving ahead for Annie, but even stronger to be able to share Maddie w/us, all the good and the unfortunate bad. My face flooded w/tears, thank you again Heather, for reminding us, every minute counts. God how I wish you could have many more w/Maddie.
michael says:
There are no words, Heather. I can’t imagine. My heart breaks for you.
mrschaos says:
I don’t think I can say anything that hasn’t already been said…but, oh, how you’ve touched so many people’s lives. Including that mother. And mine.
I know we don’t know one another, but my heart and prayers are always with your family.
Susanne says:
We were once behind that privacy screen with our baby, but Emily survived and came home with us. Your post has me sitting here in tears. Tears for you and Mike and tears for that other mother who must have been so scared. And I am in awe how you can be so strong to think about the other mother and her boy in this most horrific moment. Letting your loved baby go so that the other mom can hold hers. ..
Love, Susanne
Nancy Smego says:
Heather…you never left Maddie. Maddie never left you. She lives forever in your heart and your memory. You did a wonderful thing for that other mother. I hope her baby is thriving. But remember this, Maddie is still very much alive in your memory and you and Mike have done a FABULOUS job in keeping her memory alive. I admire you so much for what you’ve gone through. My friend’s daughter is an NICU nurse in Orange County and she tells me of stories so similar to yours. My heart breaks, and I swear I don’t know how you do it. But you do. You are a wonderful mother to both your girls and I think you are an amazing, amazing woman. Love to you, Mike, Maddie and Annie.
Nancy
Nancy Smego says:
Heather, I am not sure if my post went through. It said it was a duplicate of what I said before, but I don’t think it was. I basically said it was so like you to be unselfish and think of the other mother. And, you have NEVER left Maddie. She is always in your heart and you and Mike have done a wonderful job of her living on in everyone’s hearts. You are a family of 4 people. Mike, Heather, Maddie and Annie. And you are all wonderful!
Adventures In Babywearing says:
Oh this is too much for anyone to bear. I (jokingly, somewhat?) thought about sticking my head in the oven tonight because the kids won’t stop screaming and I have the worst headache and then I hear about those little boys missing in Michigan, and remember your Maddie, and so many other things. Perspective, perspective.
I am so sorry a million pieces over.
Steph
Dawn @ What's Around the Next Bend? says:
Oh Heather… That gave me chills!
We had a pink and purple sunset tonight… thought of Maddie.
*HUGS*
MyBabyBeluga says:
My heart aches for you… you are such a brave person to share these moments with us. Thank you.
Dee Dee says:
What a horrible decision to have to make….Heather you are awesome and continue to amaze me every day by your strength and ability to share with others. Thank you, you help me keep things in perspective!
rachel cortest says:
Heather,
Thank you for your courage to let the world know what it is truly like to lose a child. Your post today was full of love and pain. I think that we leave because are brain is numb. My friend who lost her seven year old daughter and I always talk about that subject. How did we ever leave once the machines were taken off?? Why did we not spent every minute with him the three days that he was on life support?? We did not leave the hospital and the siblings were with him when we were not. But still, why did I not realize that I would never ever see him again?? I guess that if we could comprehend the enormity of the horror of losing a child at the time that it happens, we would jump out a window or lose our minds. Maddie is in my heart even though I did not know her. Thank you so much for your heart-breaking honesty. xoxoxo Rachel
eliza says:
You’re such a damn good person. You’re so sweet and a mama through and through. I hope you do have a bunch more kids (medically permitting). You’re a gift, a precious gift to a child. A precious gift to all of us too, but you are a uniquely special mama.
One way of looking at it is you left because you had to. You had to. Four more hours or ten or twenty wouldn’t make it hurt any less now. The hurt is the hurt is the hurt. That separation is such a fundamentally devastating experience no matter how it goes down. It’s not supposed to happen. That mother gave you the bridge to walk out of there. And what a beautiful thing that she was the reason. As an aside I wonder would you want her to find you? I wonder if she knows who you are.
Rebecca says:
I am certain that mother thinks of you all the time. I hope her little boy is okay.
Tara says:
My heart is aching for you. I am so humbled by what you have survived through. Reading your blog makes me want to be a better mom and a better person.
Momma Lioness Michele says:
My heart breaks for you. You and your family are in my thoughts daily . I have no doubt you are in this mother’s daily thoughts as well.
Much love to you from across the country.
Suzie says:
Oh Heather….I have a heavy heart after reading today’s post and want you to know that I am now an intensive care nurse and I consider what you did by leaving the PICU as the most selfless thing a person could ever do. Each and everyday when we are having a situation where there is a patient that is unstable, we are performing life saving procedures, a person has coded, or we get a new admit to the unit…we are forced to have all family members of every patient leave the unit. It is very confusing and upsetting to these family members, but once the reasoning is explained to them and they understand that they would expect nothing less for their loved one, then they are okay with it. I am sorry that you felt rushed that day, because I would never want any one of my patient’s family members to feel that way and rest assured that you did absolutely nothing wrong the day of Maddie’s passing. There is no right or wrong way to handle your grief…It’s just wrong that it even happened in the 1st place…It plain stinks and my heart aches for you. Much love to you today and always!! From one mom to another…*hugs*!
Suzie says:
I wanted to add…Heather, what you gave that Mother that day was priceless. She will be forever changed by your act of kindness and Madeline’s love was already at work…At your time of pure and utter devastation, you put that Mama’s needs before your own…I’m just gonna throw this out there….WOW!!
Christy says:
Oh Heather – my heart is so torn for you. I am so sorry.
Leah says:
Do you know, I think about Maddie all the time. She’s so distinct to me, who never met her or even knew about her while she was alive. It’s a cliche to call children lost too young “angels,” and I gather that’s not part of your beliefs, but if any child I’ve ever heard of was/is an angel, it’s Maddie! Just look at her. It seems like she saw so much and felt so much in such a short time, and she taught you to be the kind of person who would do what you did for that other mother.
That said, I agree with the commenter who noted our customs respecting death in this country and in this era are harsh and cursory and make it unnecessarily difficult for mourners to mourn properly and process what has happened.
I’m glad the internet and blogging was invented so that you can share these stories, as heartbreaking as they are, and have such wonderful people show their affection and support for you.
Camille says:
This post shook me to the core.
You are such a strong woman!
I cannot imagine how you feel everyday but you really are amazing.
Thank you for sharing this with us.
GingerB says:
In the intermediate care nursery they don’t have much in the way of privacy rules. A baby might be getting taken to a NICU or PICU and everyone hears it all – the only privacay is for nursing attempts, like I gave a shit about people seeing my breast- but once I was just doing kangaroo care with my preemie and another mom was told her son would have severely impaired vision and that he couldn’t tell her any more than that, they’d have to wait and see. That was an awful moment, and I wish I had done something to comfort that mother but I didn’t feel I should let her know her privacy was not respected. It still disturbs me. Now that I have another child with special needs I wish I had reached out to her. I bet you would have, Heather. You truly are so kind – Maddie was lucky to have you, as is sweet Annie.
anotherheatherfromcanada says:
No words Heather, just love and prayers.
monica says:
big, big, big bear hug to you! You are absolutely amazing! I cannot even begin to imagine what you’re going through. It is gut wrenching reading posts about that day. My heart aches for you.
FyshWyfe says:
Oh, Heather. You leave me in tears. Every time you write about the day you lost Maddie I go find my daughter and hold her tight (often against her will) and wet her hair with tears.
Chelle says:
I can’t imagine what that moment must have been like for you, or for that mom. It amazes me when I read your posts how you can be so honest and brave with displaying your emotions. Thank you for sharing and know that I think of you often and hold you and your family in my prayers.
katrina says:
Oh, Heather….this is so hard to read. I doubt any mother reading this doesn’t feel a horrible stab of pain right through the heart. And the other mother? I don’t doubt that she thinks of you and your Maddie everyday. I was in the NICU for a time with our daughter, and there are two babies that were there with us that I always think about — and that was 13 years ago. Those ‘other mothers’ out there…we never forget.
Mermanda says:
What a powerful post, Heather. I am crying at my desk wishing I could give you a big hug right now. Imagining you hugging Maddie for the last time is so incredibly heartbreaking. Thinking of you and your family during the holidays.
amourningmom says:
Thank you for sharing your story. I will not write that I know how you feel because every story is different – but I too wonder how I ever left my sons’ bodies. Take care.
Jessica says:
There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of you…I follow your blog daily…my heart breaks for your loss. I know it won’t get easier but I hope you have peace knowing she is in a better place…
debi says:
The mom of that little boy will never forget that day, or your act of kindness to allow her a little more time with her critially ill little boy. As a pediatric ICU nurse, I can tell you under no circumstance is it easy to leave the last time. To give the final kiss, the final smell. Having the compassion you obviously have for other Mommies of critically ill children was the perfect reason to make the move to the door.
I love your blog…. I love how you share your funniest, happiest and saddest moments with us so beautifully. I think we all love your precious Annie!
xoxoxo
Mary says:
I’m guessing the other mommy’s heart hurt for you. You treated the other mother the way you would have wanted to be treated. She would probably hug you now and tell you it was the kindest thing anyone could have ever done. You have a beautiful soul.
Tina says:
Your post makes my heart ache. Thinking of you. xoxo
Rachael says:
It breaks my heart. Absolutely.