Harrison Michael.

July 25th and 37 weeks pregnant with my second son, I went to triage after not having felt movement for two days. I made all the excuses: I was too big, or maybe I was going to be going into labor soon. Besides my doctors appointment on tuesday, the day before, revealed a normal heartbeat. But still, something nagged me so I had my husband of only 5 days drive me to triage, and told him to come back in 30 minutes because I knew that's how long it would take them to run the fetal non stress test. The baby's heart rate was dropping fast, from 145 to 56 in a matter of minutes. They informed me that were going to have to preform an emergency c-section, but I was still confident that the doctors would save my baby. The surgery went well for me, but the doctors came over to my bed to tell me that my son was delivered, but it had taken them 9 minutes to revive him, and that he was in NICU in critical condition. We called our Priest right away to baptize him, not knowing how much time we would have with him. They ran several test on him, and in between my trips to the ICU to hold him, they told me that the only part of him brain that was functioning was the brain stem which controls breathing and heart rate, but he would never live without being hooked up to a ventilator. I wasnt ready to let him go though yet, I kept hoping that maybe they were wrong, maybe they switched the babies and it was someone else's baby who lay there perfect, just no higher level brain function. We gathered around his bassinet and prayed I did not pray that my son would live, I knew to wish for such things would most certainly go unanswered. I prayed for the strength to let him go and being his mother I knew that was the right thing to do. So, the next evening I told the Doctors that I wanted him to be removed from the ventilator and brought to our room. My parents, my husband's parents, my best friend, and the chaplain, gathered around commenting on his features, arguing over who he looked like more, but mostly we just prayed. He was breathing fine on his on, so when we were ready to go to sleep I took back to the NICU because I knew I would never get any sleep, worrying about him. The next day he was brought back to our room again, only this time, he was struggling to even breathe, his lips and fingernails were blue and I wondered to myself how long this could go on? Was I emotionally ready to watch my baby slowly die? We spent the day holding him, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. Later that evening, my oldest son, came by the hospital to visit for a minute and he kissed his baby brother, a minute later his heart rate had dropped from 140 to 52, he layed there motionless in my arms, there was no more movement, but the heart kept on beating for another 10 minutes before it finally stopped. We asked our family to leave so we could be alone with our son, so my husband and I bathed him, dressed him, and I held him until the coldness of his body made me so sad. I kissed him good-bye and they wheeled him off to the morgue. I went back outside to join my family. I left the hospital the next day and it was bittersweet. The hospital staff was just so amazing during the whole experience. I dont even have any words except that they were the most loving people I have ever met. We had a small funeral service for my son the following thursday and some of the nurses even showed up. Its been almost 4 weeks since I delivered Harrison Michael, 6lbs 14oz 19in. He was the most beautiful baby I had ever laid eyes upon. I know I did the right thing taking him off the ventilaor, no person should have to live being hooked up to a machine because that is not a life at all. I let him go because that was what was best for him, not what was easiest for me. I am very sad all the time, that I will never be able to hold him again, thats what I miss the most, being able to hold him. The cause of his death was mere speculation and I did not have an autopsy done. All I know is I supposed to have a baby, and now all I have are memories.