Baby Rivers

On the 2 July 2011, 3.5 weeks before his due date, our beautiful baby boy, River Jak Adam was born, weighing 7lb 3oz.

4 months 4 days followed, with River being the light of our life.. doted on by family and friends, piling on the weight, even trying to stand up at any chance he could. He was the happiest, most contented baby; who made every one smile who he came into contact with. River loved anything but sleep; playing with his toys, dancing with his nanny to the Wiggles and walking in his pram along the beach... but nothing compared to his nightly baths where his chuckles could be heard echoing through the house.

On Sunday 6 Nov, we were child minding 2 of our friends children and took them bowling and for lunch. River loving all the sounds in the bowling alley, giggled away, fed well and his slight cold which had developed the day before, seemed to disappeared over night. We got home, he was bathed, still smiling and happy and I fed him as his Daddy said an early goodnight.

River and I, along with my Mum, his doting Nanny, played on the couch, cuddled up, laughed and fed and about 8.30pm he went to sleep in his cot. We had a visual monitor (the only way I would start putting him in his cot as before that he was in a bassinet next to our bed and was starting to turn over; I was scared he would fall out!) and I turned the monitor on in our bedroom that his Dad was sleeping in.

River woke a couple of times, wanting cuddles back to sleep as normal, and at 11.30pm I fed him again, made sure he was sleeping and popped him back into his cot, thinking I would be woken again at about 2-3am for his next feed.

Mum and I said goodnight - her room being next door to his - and I went to bed. I checked the monitor and he was sound asleep.

At 7.25am the next morning I awoke to my husband getting back into bed from feeding our dogs and asked him what time it was.. when he said 7.30am I stared straight at the monitor thinking, why hadn't River woken me?! I couldn't see him so thought Mum must have woken up before us and grabbed him so we could have a sleep in. A minute or so passed and I told my husband I would just check Mum was ok with him and I'd be right back. Walking out of our bedroom I expected to see Mum and River on the couch watching a TV show or playing in his bouncy car as often that is where they would be.. I couldn't see anyone so rushed to Mums room thinking maybe they had gone out for a walk but strange at 7.30am.. Mum was asleep as I rushed in asking "Mum, where’s Riv?!"she woke paniced asking "what do you mean where’s Riv?! before she could answer I rushed into his room to his cot.

River had rolled out of the way of the monitor, was half way up the cot and had his face away from me. I rolled him towards me in a panic and instantly screamed for help.

Our little man, the light of our life, the most precious thing in our world, had died, sometime between 11.30pm and that morning.

This was on the 7 Nov 2011. River was 128 days old. Our beautiful baby was healthy, happy, cared for and slept safely. How could this have happened?

Words can't explain the empty, numb feelings that have engulfed us since the nightmare began. It feels like a lifetime has passed and each morning is a reminder that it isn't all a nightmare we are waiting to wake up from. Did I dream having him? was he really ours? why him? Why was he taken away?

The anger and hurt is sometimes too much and we aren't sure if the tears will ever stop.

We have had it confirmed by the coroner that River appears to be a "pure SIDS" case. There were no outside influences, no sickness, virus or organ defect...River was healthy, strong and perfect in every way. This couldn't have been prevented or predicted.. so it has given us that extra drive to discover WHY this happens. Our baby was beautiful and our purpose to live each day; now we have to make sure that our future generation don’t suffer the loss that we have and that we put Rivers name up in life for eternity.

Mummy and Daddy can’t mend our broken hearts my darling, but we vow with every breath we take, to do our best for you. In life and death our beautiful boy, you are our son, our life, our inspiration forever. Every tear we are wishing you were with us, and in our dreams we are holding you in our arms. Till we meet again... x

Baby Cammi

One week and one day before my 17th birthday, I found out I was two weeks pregnant. I had my Daughter when I was 17. I did a complete 360. I wasn't the free teenager all of my other friends were, I was a mom, and that's all I've ever wanted to be. I love kids, and coming from a home with five younger siblings, I knew what I was doing with them. I had my Daughter August 7, 2011 after 16 1/2 HARD hours in labor, she was 8 lb. 6 oz and 21 3/4 inches long! She was beautiful and healthy; that was all that mattered to me.. I told my fiance she was our "own piece of Heaven" when in reality I didn't realize our days with her were this numbered. My daughter was a very happy and playful baby. I had her at 41 weeks and 6 days, her eyes were wide open when she was born, and she never cried. She was just a very happy baby. S.I.D.S has NO signs, or symptoms. JUST a tragic loss of a piece of you. The day of December 21, 2011 was my fiances' birthday, and he had the flu, so I took my Daughter to my friends birthday party (also her birthday), it was just a regular party, cake, ice cream, and pizza. When I got home that night (around 9:30) my fiance was still sick and in bed so I went into the living room, got in the recliner with my angel and played with her until she fell asleep. I then went into her room and changed her, wiped her down, and brought her into my room to put her down in her crib. My daughter NEVER EVER has slept with me before because of my fear of maybe rolling over on top of her but, that night I had the urge to sleep in the recliner with her, I fought the urge off and put her into her crib anyways so I could take care of her daddy. Later that night, at midnight I woke her up to feed her (I always did, even if she wasn't awake, just so she wouldn't be hungry!) she ate the whole bottle, and smiled and cooed for about 30-45 minutes and I put her back into her crib, still having the urge to hold her all night long, but with the exhaustion from taking care of her and her daddy, I put her back into the crib, and went to sleep.. Cammi ALWAYS sleeps late.. Every morning she'd wake up about 10:30. The morning of December 22, 2011 I woke up around 9, I laid in bed talking to my fiance, just waiting for the first little noise of her moving in her crib, for me to get her up.. Around 10 I told my fiance (Jered) we would get up, go get breakfast and go to my moms. I got up, got dressed since the baby was still asleep, and went into her room to get her clothes for her to wear, when I went to pick her up from her bed, I pulled the covers from under her arm (I tuck the covers in under her arms to prevent suffocation), she just rolled over, she sleeps with her hands on her face, so I couldn't see her face, which only means I wasn't prepared for the worst thing that was coming my way! When I looked at her all of her bodily fluids have done leaked out, and was over her nose and mouth. I called 911 only for the operator to ask me if I was sure, she wasn't breathing and that she had passed away. When the paramedics got to my home, it was storming outside so they passed my house up. So, what do I do? A mother's first instinct, I chased them down the road, in the pouring rain, in the lightening and thunder. I just wanted someone to help her. Someone to bring her back. Is that too much to ask for?! I'm a mother, what does a mother do without her child? Nothing - She's useless.  They made me stay at the house when they rushed her to the ER to "investigate" they took pictures of my yard, dirty clothes, dishes, and even paint on the walls. When I was finally able to leave and go to the ER, they led me to the back where I was able to hold her stiff, lifeless, non-breathing, cold body. My daughter was our world.. We had her services December 28, 2011 & I had a 24 hr service to where I could spend as much time as possible with my angel. On December 29, 2011 I had to lay everything that meant anything in this world to me, to rest, and I refused to leave until she was completely covered. It's been a month and a half, I still visit them cemetery daily, I still look in the backseat only to see there is not a car seat back there. Sometimes (If I'm able to sleep!) I still wake up for her midnight feedings. I still call out her name, scream and  cry. The pain never goes away, time doesn't heal, and it don't get any easier to take. People look at me and think this happened to me because I was so young.. Well, it didn't. It could happen to anyone. People never realize today could be their last day. Cammi made a HUGE impression on my life, me and her daddy plan on having more children, not to take her place, but to help sooth the pain..

RIP CAMMI!

MOMMY & DADDY LOVES AND MISSES YOU DEARLY, SWEETHEART!!!!

8/7/11 - 12/22/11

Baby Holly

(Photo In Memory of Holly McNamara)

Holly Maree McNamara, was born on the 20th August, 1988 at the Dandenong Valley Private Hospital in Melbourne, Australia. Holly died on the 18th of January, 1989. She died from Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (S.I.D.S). Sudden Infant Death Syndrome is also known as cot death. She was five-months-old. She was beautiful.

SIDS is described as being: ‘Sudden death of any infant or child which is unexpected by history and in which a thorough post-mortem examination fails to demonstrate an adequate cause of death’.

This description was made at the 2nd International Conference on Causes of SIDS held at Seattle, in the USA, in 1969.

My own description of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome is this: ‘My beautiful five month old daughter Holly stopped breathing and died for reasons unknown to any living human being. The pain of losing a child was now with me.’

On Sunday 15th January, 1989, I was rostered on for a week of night shifts at the Cranbourne police station. Members rostered to work night shift would commence on the Sunday night and work seven nights straight. Duty would commence at 11p.m and finish at 7a.m the next morning unless of course you were forced to work overtime due to some incident occurring during your shift.

My sergeant on the night shift had three children and we enjoyed each other’s company and always had some fun on shift together.

I remember on the Tuesday night of that week sitting down with him and talking about Holly. I was telling him how beautiful she was; what a great baby she was; how she had never been sick and how I was so rapt to be a dad and have someone as wonderful as her for a daughter. I couldn’t wait to get home to see her. I was so at peace with the world.

I knew that the first five months was the critical time for cot death and had totally accepted in my own heart that Holly was through that barrier. It had been almost five months to the day she was born and I had let my defences down completely. I had relaxed and had total belief that Holly was not going to die from cot death. This was the very night I realized what great joy it was to be a father and couldn’t wait to see her that Wednesday morning.

It had been a very uneventful Tuesday night on shift. Crime had taken the night off. The only thing that got the blood pumping was a couple of calls saying that a bus full of tourists had crashed in Kooweerup. Turned out they were prank calls. Thank God. As 7am ticked over the morning shift arrived and I bade the guys farewell.

It was only a short drive to our home in Cranbourne. I recall it being a fairly warm morning. Slightly overcast as I pulled into the driveway.

I would always head straight for Holly’s room in the morning to see her before going to bed. Some people need to stay awake for a while after a night shift. Have some breakfast. Maybe even stay up till lunch time. But when I was on nightshift I couldn’t wait to get to bed.

I would go to the toilet, clean my teeth then jump under the covers. In two minutes I would be fast asleep.

I crept into Holly’s room on the morning of Wednesday, January 18th, 1989, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep. But in my mind hoping that she would already be awake or that my presence would wake her so I could see those beautiful big blue eyes staring at me and that beautiful mouth with the biggest smile beaming at me.

I was not disappointed as I poked my head into her room. She was lying there wide awake and as she noticed me the most beautiful smile I had ever seen lit up her face and her eyes looked into mine with that look and feeling that only a father and daughter can experience and feel.

At that very moment I knew what love was. It was there in that room. Time stood still. There was no time. I was living and experiencing the present moment like never before. I had no idea that this would be the last time that I would see Holly alive. It was as if she was giving me a lifetime of love in that one moment. I leaned into her cot and gave her a kiss. I stroked her forehead and whispered into her ear “Goodnight Hol. I love you beautiful girl.”

We all have memorable moments in our lives but without doubt the memory of that morning will live with me forever. Nothing I have experienced before or since comes close to the love and joy I experienced with Holly at that moment. I will never forget it. We were together as one. We still are.

It was around 11a.m that I heard the bedroom window being pounded on and a voice calling my name. I remember waking with a jolt and wondering what the hell was going on. I actually felt quite annoyed at being woken. It took a while to come to my senses but after a few seconds I realised it was my mother-in law. She was yelling out “Kevin, Kevin, quick it’s Holly. She is at the doctor’s and there is something wrong with her breathing.”

I jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed. I remember putting on a pair of blue tracksuit pants and a blue and white sweater, with the words ‘San Francisco’ written on the front that I had bought over in America fifteen months earlier. It is amazing the things we remember at critical times in our lives. The things that stick in our minds. I went to the front door and my mother-in-law repeated her earlier warning. She looked very upset and worried. I kept reassuring her that Holly would be fine. She drove me to the doctor’s surgery that was about one kilometre away from where we lived.

I remember on the way constantly reassuring her that there was nothing to worry about and that Holly would be awake and laughing when we arrived. I honestly believed that I would arrive at the surgery and the doctor would say that everything is fine and she was just a bit off colour. I vividly recall when I was being driven to the surgery that in my head I had total confidence that Holly would be crawling around the floor of the surgery and would look up at me with those beautiful eyes of hers and smile. I was actually looking forward to seeing her.

When we arrived I was ushered immediately from the waiting room and into a medical room. I was met by our family doctor. I noticed there were four ambulance officers also in the room who were gathered around a bed that was directly behind the doctor. His first words to me were “I am sorry. We tried everything.”

At this moment in time I genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. I said to him, “What do you mean? What are you talking about?” My mind was just numb. He said again, “I am sorry. We tried everything.” I was still confused. I had been in a deep sleep only to be woken and driven down to the doctor’s surgery. Nothing was making sense. I then looked over at the ambulance officers standing around the bed. The pain of losing a child had hit them hard. All four had tears in their eyes. I then noticed the small child lying on the bed.

It was Holly.


♥


The doctor asked me if I would like to hold her and passed her to me. I held her tight and looked at her beautiful face. She seemed so content as though she was sleeping peacefully. It did not register then that she had died and it would not register for some time. My body had shut down emotionally and I was numb.

My wife had been at the hairdresser that morning and her mum had been looking after Holly. She arrived at the surgery a short time later. When she walked in she was understandably distressed and crying, in shock and very emotional. She was asking me questions but I had no answers. We both just kept looking at this beautiful child who had just died.

I had entered a vacuum. No feeling, no emotion, no tears, no pain. Nothingness.


The pain of losing a child had just begun.



- Kevin McNamara - www.motherswhohavelostachild.com