Giving Him Back...

Yesterday, while I was at the salon I was talking with my stylist about Gavin's final days.  Even though his last days where probably the most difficult days of his and our life there are so many things about those last moments that I would never give back.  For those who are not familiar with our little boy, it is important to know that Gavin never follow the book.  You would think he would do one things and he ended up doing another.  He never followed what medical science said should happen -- he wrote his own book.  This was true to the very end.

After about 24 hours of the bipap machine acting like a ventilator, as Gavin was no longer triggering any breaths on his own, we along with the doctors and in accordance with the DNR we had decided on -- we were told it was time to let him go and remove life support.  All the doctors and nurses gathered in the room to watch as the ventilator was removed, waiting for his final breath and to pronounce his death.  I held my baby in my arms and Adam and I said our final goodbye -- or what we now know was one of many final goodbyes.  After the ventilator was removed -- after not breathing on his own for 24 hours, our little fighter decided it was time -- to breath.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Oh, Gavin.  That was about all I could think.  We gathered ourselves together and realized that his death was going to be a long process.  Eight hours later his breathing, although very shallow,  was still steady.  About 24 hours passed and although he was still breathing he was beginning to suffer.  His lungs were not moving enough to clear the fluid in his little chest and he essentially be began to drown.  This was the worst experience I have ever had.  I will never forget the loud crackle that filled the room with every inhale and exhale.  But Gavin just would not stop.  What was he waiting for?

Hours went on, in fact another entire day has passed.  It was now 50 hours since we said our first goodbye to our baby.  We had another few moments were his O2 levels would drop to the next level - 90 to 80, 80 to 70, 70 to 60 -- each time we thought this was it would weep and mourn the loss of our little boy.  So 50 hours later we watched our little boy fight to live -- fight to maintain life even with O2 levels in the 50's.  We asked what is he waiting for -- we had many thoughts.  Our nurse thought maybe he needed to hear Mommie and Daddy say we were going to be ok -- so we let him know.

"Mommie and Daddy are going to be ok, you can go.  Go be with Jesus Gavin -- you can stop fighting."

Inhale.

Exhale.

He just would not stop.

Then it happened.  As we watched our little boy slipping further away Adam started to pray -- "Lord, we give you back our little boy." We thanked him for giving us our little boy for  3 1/2 years, thanked him for the amazing journey he took us on.

A few minutes later, with my hand on my baby's chest I felt his little heart stop and he took his final breath.

Gavin was not our own -- he never was.