A Shocking Reality

I never thought this would be my life. Not me, not us, not our baby girl. It feels like a gut punch now just to see a baby girl out in public. My daughter should be here too.

I couldn’t wait to parade Presley around to all my family and friends. She is so loved. So many people were excited for her arrival. She was the first grandchild in my husband’s family, and they never even got to hold her. No one did, except for Michael and me, because it was such a production. Presley spent the first , I think 25, days of her life without being held, until one day I finally convinced her nurse and respiratory therapist to let me.

I’ll never forget the sweet nurses who made sure I got to hold her. It was a huge production. It took at least 2–3 people to transfer her, with all her tubes and attachments, from her bed to my arms. I was terrified. But the second they placed her in my arms, a wave of calm washed over both of us.

I even stopped drinking water once I could hold her, because I didn’t want to put her down, not even for a minute. Each time I held her, it would be for hours, since transitioning her was so stressful. I went into full mommy mode. Especially once we knew Presley would be going home to Jesus in a few days, I couldn’t let go. I basically held her for three days straight, day and night, getting up only to let her daddy have a turn or to use the restroom. I didn’t care about eating or showering. I just wanted my baby in my arms for every possible second.

And then it hits me… how shocking my reality actually is.

I held my baby girl as she took her very last breath.

We picked out an outfit for her to die in.

I never got to do skin-to-skin or hold her to my chest because of her breathing tube. Her birth, what we thought would be totally fine and normal, became a traumatic event that Mike and I may never fully recover from.

We had to pick out her urn.

We had to break the hearts of our families, including my niece and nephew who were so excited to meet their baby cousin, by telling them Presley would never be discharged from Nicklaus Children’s Hospital.

Now we endure the deafening silence of her perfect pink nursery.

These are our shocking truths.

Sometimes I think my brain still hasn’t fully accepted the trauma. How do I even go on knowing what my reality is?

The only answer I can give is that the Lord has provided me with strength. I have no other explanation.

Still… I wouldn’t trade anything in this world for the 33 days I had with my baby girl.