08/17/2026
We buried Crew on Friday. It was hard being back so soon to bury another baby in the family. Two babies in one year. It felt the slightest bit comforting that they are next to each other. I can’t stop thinking about you. Not a lot of people know this part, but I think it’s the most heartbreaking. When you were born, we had every intention of following you to Dallas to stick by your side through your heart surgeries and all. Even being born so early I still was under the impression you could still eventually live a normal life. Being told on the phone that there’s nothing doctors could do when I wasn’t even discharged yet and 7 hours away, my stomach dropped, my heart broke. I drive to Dallas not even a day after my c section leaving my other critical baby to be with my more critical baby knowing I was going to have to watch her die. I thought and thought. I didn’t understand why she couldn’t be helped. When I got there, we talked to all the teams and resources se could find. We asked and asked and were stern about keeping her alive so she could grow to get the surgeries. We were told they couldn’t. Still didn’t understand why. I was pumping on the clock so they could give her my milk. A cardiologist we had spoken to just a week prior to going into labor came and talked to us. He explained her body would start failing within 7 days of not having the surgery. She needed it asap and before she had that surgery she would have to have a whole reconstructive surgery of her intestines so that she could even eat. We didn’t know she had duodenal atresia. At 1 pound 8 ounces, her condition was fatal. They gave us two options, keep her alive and watch her little body go into complete failure, or take her off the vent and let her pass peacefully on mommy. It felt like an impossible decision to make but we knew what we had to do. I live with that decision. I didn’t want her to go in the isolette alone, or watch her suffer any longer. We got five beautiful days with her. On the fifth day, she was struggling. Her body was swollen, she was already going into heart failure, she was letting the vent do all the work, she was getting blood , fentanyl, morphine, every hour on the hour. We spent that day making her as comfortable as possible. Reading to her, getting her baptized, getting her feet prints, singing to her, and I got to hold her for three hours before her heart fully stopped. I will always feel guilty. What if someone else could have saved her? I always think about that. I feel like my body failed her so hard and then I didn’t fight hard enough to get them to do something. It eats at me. I’ll never be the same and I just want us to be together. I wish I could hold you right now
