Heartbeat

There is a renewed sense of the need to record life. I used to be more active at recording life, but had stopped. When Sara was still in utero, I started a simple record of events and things related to her. I recorded the details of conversations I had with the doctor, and what readings I saw in the morning and at night. Details. You forget things, and writing can save them for you.

I found the journal again recently. As I reread it, I saw things with clearer eyes. One of the things was the classification system of bleeds in the brain. IHV classes. Starting at one which would be watched, to Class 4 which is not survivable. This was told to me by the doctor the first day in the NICU. I have always remembered that Sara had a class 4 bleed. I always knew it was bad. I had forgotten "NOT SURVIVABLE" Sara did not have a chance. Some of my guilt lifted this last week after all these years.

Another passage brought me to a stop. I had written about the end and the decision to withdraw the artificial respiration. I wrote that I had placed my hand on her chest and could feel her heartbeat. I moved my had to feel her feet, which were cold, and when I placed my hand back on her chest, I could no longer feel her heartbeat. Grief took that memory. I did not recall that independent of the book. Had I not written, I would have lost that memory forever. I am comforted now knowing that I felt her heartbeat. I will choose that memory to hold now.