Day 30- Corinne's last day on Earth

August 10, 2011 Wednesday
I have set myself up several times to sit down and write about this day, for some reason I was never able to. It’s now November and I am able to write about Corinne’s last day on earth. I think about why it’s taken me this long, it’s not because I can’t talk about it, I love talking about Corinne. I realize now I have only told one person about Corinne’s last few hours and that’s only because she was the only person that asked and that I thought could “handle it”. I’m not upset that more people didn’t ask about her dying, I mean how do you ask someone about that??...

Still I contemplate what I should write… I don’t want to startle people or make them feel uncomfortable with what happened or maybe I am afraid I will be judged for being so matter of fact about Corinne’s death. I want to tell every little detail so I never forget it (then I ask myself.. how could you forget your child dying in your arms) but then again I hesitate because can people handle it…..I feel so dramatic when I say things like “your child dying in your arms” or “Corinne’s last day on earth” but that is what it was! Can you really sugar coat that??...

As I have told many people Corinne’s death was not like what you see on TV. There was no final breath, one fatal blow, etc. It was a slow horrific process where I watched my daughter gasp for breath for hours, I left my hand on her chest waiting for the last heartbeat, I rocked her praying that God would just take her and end her suffering. We stared at her for hours thinking this would be the last minute we would see our child alive and then she would gasp for another breath and her heart would beat again.

Corinne took her first of her last breaths at 4:15pm on Wednesday in the arms of one of my best friends Ronda and took her last breath at 9:16pm in my arms.

That morning we were prepared for another day with Corinne; we were going to have some of our closest friends come up and hold Corinne for the first time and my sister Rachel, her husband and two kids were arriving from California. We were planning for another day with her like we had the day before. I went home and showered and brought back a sleeping wedge my in-laws had gotten me for Corinne to lay in. I had held her the two nights before and had barely slept and I knew I needed to have a better sleep option for us that night. The doctor had told us the day before we needed to start thinking about what our plan would be if Corinne lived for a few more days or week (not saying that Corinne would have to leave the hospital but like a sanity plan for Ryan and I, I think he was concerned we would just sit in the hospital for 2 weeks holding her, which I am sure we would of)

That day I felt like I was obsessing over things that didn’t matter when I would look back on that day and what was really important…. Saving pictures from our camera to the computer, listening/downloading music that “meant” something to us, writing in Corinne’s journal, replying to emails/texts, scheduling visits with our friends…

It wasn’t until 4pm that day that we realized it would probably be our last day with Corinne. My friend Ronda and her daughter Kennedy would be the first visitors outside of our family to hold Corinne, and the last. When Ronda was holding Corinne she stopped breathing for the first time. I didn’t even realize it ( “it” being the first time Corinne stopped breathing). One of our favorite nurses (who was not assigned to Corinne that day) had stopped in to see how we were doing. Ronda was giving her the eye that something wasn’t right. Rene instantly stepped in and started to pat Corinne’s back to get her to take a breath. That was the one of the hardest things for us with Corinne’s death was the uncertainty. After Corinne’s first episode of not breathing her doctor came in and examined her. I am a factual person I needed to know exactly what to expect!! Exactly how much time I had with her!! But Corinne’s death was not like that, babies with Zellweger’s don’t have a certain fate. I had a really hard time with that. My sister and her husband who both deal with death on a weekly even daily basis couldn’t give me exact details. Sarah tried to explain to me that a lot of what dying people go thru is a reflex it isn’t them making the conscious effort to take a breath.

Ryan had plans to go eat dinner with Evan, my sister Rachel and her family would be arriving around 6, I emailed a few other friends about coming and visiting around 7. Ryan didn’t even make it to see Evan and Sarah was calling him back to tell him that things weren’t good, I was emailing my friends back telling them that visiting wasn’t a good idea, Rachel and Matt made it in time to hold Corinne for a few minutes. From 7-9pm Ryan and I just held and rocked Corinne. My sisters would come in from the waiting room every once in a while when I would text them with a desperate text message saying “ is this really what death is like” or “is there anything I can do for her”.

Again I hesitate about writing about Corinne’s last few hours. I don’t know why. I think mostly it’s because I don’t know the words….

Corinne passed away at 9:16pm on Wednesday August 10th, 2011 in the arms of her mother with her father by our side. We were listening to music, the play list being what is on our blog, her final song being “Shine” by David Grey.