I held on to him for hours after he was extubated. I would just sit there and go into my own little world and I would forget that I had my dead baby in my arms. I cried every time I realised he wasn't asleep, he was dead. Dead, what a horrible, horrible word. I let go of him when the doctor came to certify that he had died. We took the opportunity to dress him. The nurse gave us a white sleep suit for him and said we could bring him one of his if we wanted. I wanted. My husband went and did the phone calls, I am incredibly proud of him for being strong enough to do it.
We had to have the Police involved as he went downhill at home but there was nothing suspicious they told us, routine. The poor detective had a hard time comprehending the medications he was on and said to me how did I remember it all and I said it was imprinted just like his DOB and Hospital Number was. They said they had to come and take pictures of where it happened at home. I remember feeling violated as I just wanted to stay with him but I couldn't and in the grief I found it hard to digest it all. I also didn't want to have to face the 'outside' world, family, friends, strangers.
My baby had died, why was life still going on. My baby had died.
We left at some point, mainly because of the Police. I wanted him to have his own PJs and his teddy that he slept with. If he was going to go to sleep forever, he needed his teddy.
I saw my boy every day at the mortuary and held him for the last time on Sunday 4th October 2009.
We were told his PM would be the Monday and they were unsure if we would be able to see him again, let alone hold him so we knew this could be it. Hats off to mortuary staff, I couldn't do it. They gave us as much time that we wanted and when we asked if it was okay to pick him up, they gently told us, he was our baby, we could do anything we wanted. I wanted to grab him and run but I needed to know it wasn't my fault too.
I wasn't prepared for him being cold, I knew somewhere in the process he would be but it was a shock. It was nice to hold him again, my arms ached to have him there. Apart from him being cold, I was back to the time after he just died and going into trance like states. My husband picked him up and cuddled him into him. He was wearing a white t-shirt and when he moved him away, there was blood. I forgot and said he had hurt him but it is normal for that to happen. He didn't want to ever take the t-shirt off nor wash it. It was the last biological thing of our boy. Its in our boy's memory box now.
In the process of putting him back to 'bed' he got blood on his PJs too :-(
The Police had promised me they would call me when the PM was done; to give me the verdict and so I knew that the Funeral Director was collecting him. Speaking of FD... he was lovely, such a genuine, kind, caring man. When we saw him for the arrangements, he told us he always left the light on for his guests and said good night to each and every one of them. I felt that I was going to have my boy in very safe keeping.
The PM didn't take place on the Monday and was hugely distressing for us as it meant we could have seen him but the coroner ballsed it up (NB: The FD put in a complaint after the boy was buried). His PM was done the Tuesday morning and we were called in the afternoon.
The verdict.... he died of sudden cardiac arrest, brought on by his condition, HLHS. No ones fault. Cause of death recorded as Natural Causes. I hate that phrase as it doesn't give a true description. To me, natural causes, is a 90 year old pensioner having lived their life and just simply passing away in their sleep. How is it natural that my baby, and he was a baby, died?!
