Our Baby Thomas: Sweet Salty

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Sweet Salty

I just read this post on Sweet Salty.

Its about babyloss and grief. Its the transcript of what she said for a walk to remember.

Some people can express things so well. Words are like brushstrokes, thoughts are arrayed in layers and focus like a landscape painting.

So many "just right" thoughts.

1 comment:

caitsmomApril 16, 2009 at 8:12 AM
Thanks for sending this my way. The speech was beautiful. Peace.
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About this blog

Thanks for visiting my blog. These are my memory pages. Dedicated to the life of our baby Thomas who spent 4 1/2 months in the neonatal intensive care unit at the Royal Childrens Hospital in Melbourne, this collection of writing and pictures documents his life from his birth in October 2007 until he passed away in February 2008.
I have posted the emails that I wrote to family and friends and some of the photos that I took. Some of the poetry was written by me and some of it I have found in my bereavement travels.
Grief is not logical, I do not know where it will take me day by day, but I have found that it is better if I don't resist, it is better if I let it take me where it will.

Our Beautiful Baby Thomas

Thomas was born on 17th October 2007 and he died 135 days later on the 28th February 2008.
Thomas was born with Down Syndrome, Tracheal Osophageal Fistula and Osophageal Atresia, Tracheal Broncheo Malasia and Pulmonary Hypertension, he had a lot to fight.
On the night he was born Thomas was transferred to the Royal Childrens Hospital in Melbourne for surgery to repair his Osophageus, that is when the Pulmonary Hypertension was discovered and surgery had to be stopped. We waited 15 weeks in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit until he was well enough to have the surgery again. But in the weeks following surgery the Pulmonary Hypertension became more and more severe, to the point that the doctors told us that there was nothing left to do.
Thomas died with me and his daddy and his brother and his nurse. We held him and talked to him, we watched him go, quietly he slipped away.
I will never be the same again.