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- How Our Lives Have Changed Since the Loss of Our Child
Updated: Sep. 1, 2018
Originally Published: Aug. 31, 2018
Trigger Warning: Child Loss
The room is unremarkable. A few chairs and a box of tissues occupy the plain space. This is the conference room where we first learned about our children’s health; our premature triplets, born at the brink of viability. Yet within these walls lies a tale of hope, heartbreak, miracles, and devastation.
It was here that we were informed of the fragile lives of our children, just weeks before we received shattering news that brought me to my knees.
My partner and I had assumed we were attending a routine update with the NICU team. After the loss of our first triplet shortly after birth, the remaining two had been rushed to the neonatal intensive care unit. By the time they were five weeks old, we dared to believe that our surviving children might eventually come home with us. We settled into our seats at the conference table, the NICU doctor and our nurse joining us across from us.
The doctor began with our daughter, Clara, delivering a heartening update that reflected her fighting spirit. However, as he transitioned to discuss our son, a heavy pause signaled that we were not about to receive the same encouraging news.
“Scans indicate that your son has sustained brain damage, likely due to the stress from surgery,” he said.
In that moment, our lives shifted irrevocably. My thoughts went blank, tears streamed down my cheeks, and I could hardly breathe as the walls of the conference room seemed to close in on me. I sat there, still and silent, while the doctor detailed our son’s diagnosis. I observed our NICU nurse, her eyes glistening with tears as she stared vacantly at the table that connected us.
Our son had undergone a perilous surgery at just three weeks old for a condition called NEC. Though doctors managed to temporarily mend the perforations in his bowels, the operation exacted a heavy toll on his tiny frame. As the doctor sketched the nature of the injury, I felt as if I were in a haze—my physical self present at the table, but my heart and spirit shattered beyond recognition. I nodded through tears as he warned us that our son might never walk, and I wept at the uncertainty that lay ahead.
After what felt like an eternity, the doctor and nurse excused themselves, leaving us alone to process the crushing news. As the door clicked shut, my body crumpled into a cascade of sobs. I clung to my partner, and together we wept—our cries echoing the profound sadness of that moment. A visit expected to be ordinary turned into an upheaval of our lives; one child was thriving, while the other faced a grim fate.
In the weeks that followed, our son’s health deteriorated further, leading us to the heart-wrenching decision to end life support. On August 16, 2013, just two weeks after that pivotal meeting, my partner and I held him as he drew his last breath.
I frequently reflect on that fateful day, but over the years, I hadn’t given much thought to the conference room where our journey took a tragic turn. This past spring, however, I returned to the hospital to discuss donating books in memory of our triplets. Upon entering the NICU floor, I realized I was stepping into that very same conference room. As I walked inside, I was engulfed by emotion; the air felt heavy with memories as I recalled that day almost five years ago. I could vividly picture my partner and me seated there, blissfully unaware of the impending turmoil.
As I spoke to the staff about our plans to honor our children, a surprising sense of peace washed over me. In the very room where we had learned about our son’s critical condition, we were now celebrating his life and the memory of his siblings. What was once a space filled with unbearable sorrow had transformed into one overflowing with love, hope, and cherished memories. Before leaving, I took a final look around the room and smiled at the thought of what these walls might say if they could speak.
In that simple, unremarkable conference room, life had come full circle.
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In summary, our experience has taught us that while loss brings unimaginable pain, it can also pave the way for healing and remembrance. By honoring our children’s memory, we found a renewed sense of purpose and connection.
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