On March 13, 1988, I gave birth to Jessica
Ann. She died the same day. Jessica was my first
child, and I was only a child myself. The past 14 yearshave gotten easier, although I
think of her everyday, and I wanted to dedicate
this page to my Little Angel,
Jessica.
When I looked at my blonde haired daughter, I was
in shock. She looked to be asleep, and death had
not blemished her at all yet. I held her for over
an hour, rocking in a chair. The nurses were
wonderful, and asked me what I was going to name
her. "How can I name her?" I asked them. "She will
never answer to her name!" But the nurses told me
that it was important to name her, as it would give
me something to call her when I spoke of her, and
(sadly), something to put on her gravestone.
I looked at Kyle, and asked him if I could call her
Jessica Ann. He and I thought it was a beautiful
name for her.
Then, the nurses asked if I would like to dress her
in something special. I had a pretty little
receiving blanket in my bag, with pictures of
clouds and balloons. It seemed too cheery for a baby
who would never see it, but I gave it to the
nurses, who were going to take some pictures of
Jessica in a short while.
Finally, my doctor came in and told me they had to
take her from me. I did not want to give her back.
I just wanted to sit there and rock with her
forever, and I cried as they gently took her from
my arms.
My parents and my grandparents were allowed to go
into the operating room to look at her in her
bassinette. They came into my room after they had
seen her, tears in their eyes. The first grandchild
for my parents, and first great grandchild for my
grandparents had died and they were grief stricken
as well.
My parents told me they could not stand to see
their own little girl in so much emotional pain.
The pain was too much for me. All I wanted to do
was sleep, to forget. Yet I had a long hard road in
front of me. I had to sign autopsy papers before
leaving the hospital, for one. And a death
certificate. How was I to do all of this when I was
supposed to be bringing a baby home? And what about
staying in the hospital? They moved me to the
surgical ward, a room that was really a utility
closet with a window on the door. I cried myself to
sleep, hoping it was all a dream, but the next
morning I went home without my daughter. I went
home to an empty room. My parents had taken away
all traces of the baby's things. I stayed in that
room for 4 months, not speaking of her, not wanting
to leave the house. Until, one day, I talked to my
mother and realized that God would not do something
to hurt me. I vowed to love and protect my future
children, and a year later, I had Natasha. I have
done my best with all of them, and not a day goes
by that I do not think of my tiny little Angel,
Jessica Ann.
I may have lost Jessica for this lifetime, but we
will meet in Heaven. Until then it will hurt. It
will never go away, but it has gotten somewhat
better.
