A bit of closure.
So, it's all done. We made the funeral arrangements today. It wasn't as horrible as I had expected it to be. Making the arrangements, I mean. We decided on cremation because neither of us could stand the idea of Zoe being alone in the ground some where, cold and alone.
Also, we'll both be getting memorial tattoos for her, and a bit of her ashes will be mixed in with the ink so that we can carry her with us for as long as we live. As hokey as it sounds I really dig the idea of being able to take my little girl with me on all of our [mis]adventures so she can see and do everything that we do.
The actual labor was bad. Real bad. It started off okay. Dorian was actually having contractions, but by the next day they had stopped entirely. Her blood pressure then sky-rocketed [it was at 197/118 for those of you in the know] and just wouldn't come down.
They had her hooked up to all of these machines and fucking IV's and I just sat there crying feeling big and dumb and useless. Then her platelet count dropped. Big time. The healthy average is 150-440,000. At its lowest, her count was around 50,000. Which means if she started bleeding, she would have died.
Cue more crying. Cue me feeling even more helpless. Cue emergency C-section.
That actually went okay. Dorian lived. Obviously Zoe didn't. We decided to spend some time with little Zoe after Dorian was out of the woods and not so woozy from the anesthesia, and I'm really glad we did that. I was against it at first. But holding my daughter for the first, and unfortunately last time, was the most amazing thing I have ever experienced. She was beautiful. Full head of black hair, looked exactly like Dorian.
It was hard. We spent about three hours with her. I know it probably sounds horribly morbid to read about me holding and loving my dead daughter, but it absolutely gave us the closure we needed. It was hello and goodbye in the same breath, but I wouldn't change it.
The nurses were amazing. They actually had a couple of nurses called 'hope nurses' that were women who had gone through exactly what we had and were there to counsel and talk us through any decisions that needed to be made. One of them, Susan, was one of the neatest people I've ever had the pleasure if interacting with. They definitely made the whole process a lot smoother. Rather than feeling like social outcasts in a section of a hospital focusing on life, we were treated just like every other new parent. It was sad and nice at the same time.
As far as the cause of death is concerned, the cord was wrapped around her neck when they delivered her, but they weren't 100% sure that was the cause of her death. We decided on an autopsy in case it turns out to be something hereditary or preventable. Not knowing is rough.
As horrible as this has been, it's definitely brought Dorian and I much closer together. I've always loved her, but it's just different now. The positive experience with the nurses has also taught me that nursing is where I belong, as it's truly a job that I can be proud of doing at the end of the day. So I'll be going back to school in the spring quarter to begin the pre-requisites for the registered nursing program.
But the most important thing I learned is that if there's one thing I want to do with my life, it's be a father. To lots of kids. I will be the big bearded heavily tattooed bastard with a baby on his hip and two toddlers in tow that you stare at in the mall. And I will be happier than you.
)
