Awful But Functioning

And other cynical, profanity-laced yet heartfelt responses to the death of my baby

Monday, December 8, 2008

The brick and mortar kind. The ephemeral one you dream of, that lies within. Ghosts. Room allocation.

But no cleaning. Post up at Glow in the Woods.

Tash at 9:26 AM

Tash: On February 12, 2007, my daughter Maddalena (Maddy) was born. After 12-14 prenatal ultrasounds -- most for non-baby related issues like a rather scary subchorionic bleed and low-lying placenta -- and a clean amnio, we were nothing short of ecstatic upon the arrival of our beautiful, 6 lb. girl. The docs decided to move her to the NICU overnight for what appeared to be breathing issues related to meconium intake. And then the wheels came off the bus. And the bus spun out of control, and hurdled off the cliff, causing our chests to decompress and vomit to rise in our throats, followed by the bus blowing up, sending shrapnel into our eyes and making our skin melt like that guy in Raiders of the Lost Ark . . . . where was I? Oh yeah. Maddy was moved to Children's Hospital, and died on Feb. 18, 6 days old. She is survived by her mom [waves hand], her dad (aka, Mr. ABF), and her big sister Bella. Be prepared for discussion on infertility, ART, grief, toddlerhood, wine recommendations, recipe queries and dog training. Oh, and genetics. And I don't know boo about genetics, so this ought to be really entertaining.

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