death of a baby

i attended a funeral today. and there is something very solemn and sad about attending funerals. the whole process reminds me of our vulnerability and the fragility of life. and it is during such events that i get reminded about the sureness of death in life and that when it comes to treating people around us, there is no need to sweat the small stuff, and be nice and respectful.

and the mood today was even more poignant becos it was not a normal funeral. it was the funeral of a baby, my ex-colleague's baby to be exact. she was born a few weeks premature. the doctors had suggested a c-section delivery given that the baby's condition was not good and that there was no possibility of a natural, normal birth. and this was becos the baby had edward's syndrome. that was about 2-plus months ago. it was on a cool evening in the midst of my run when i receive an sms from an ex-colleague telling me about the birth. usually news of baby arrivals would carry a happy and celebratory tone, but that message did not. it ended by saying that the baby was underweight and its chance of surviving was bleak. after reading the message, i felt uneasy. i stopped my run, caught my breath and gave a call to my ex-colleague straight away.

he sounded a little tired and surprised to get my call. he explained the condition to me. there could possibility be a chance to live up to probably a year if she could pull through the first 2-3 days, he said. the doctors had asked if he wanted to let the baby go or to put the baby on life support. if he were to choose the latter, he should be mentally ready that it would be a long and arduous journey. medically, he was aware, that there was no cure and that he should be prepared for the baby to go anytime. nonetheless, he decided to put the baby on life support. i consoled him and told him to take things easy, leave it in god's hands and be strong. and i told him that as he focus his energies and resources on the new born, he must never forsake the well-being of his wife and his 3 other children. i visited the baby at the neo-natal intensive care unit (nicu) not too long after that. i must admit i felt rather distressed by the sight of a little baby and all the life support tubings radiating from its body. the baby was no bigger than a medium sized papaya, and weighed much lighter it seemed. her eyes were closed and she has all the physical features of a baby with edward's syndrome. and it was rather heart-wrenching to see the mother touching tenderly the baby's hands that were waving rather weakly as she struggled on with the life-support machines.

over the course of the last couple of months, we kept in close contact. two weeks ago, he sounded a little cheerful in his update that the baby's weight had increased a little. she was a little more than 1.6kg. and when she reach 2kg, she could be discharged, he said. when i heard him say that, frankly, i felt uneasy and mixed. i was happy that she was doing well. yet on the other hand, i knew it would be temporary and that the big picture was that edward's syndrome is incurable and that the future would be bleak. thinking about the emotional, psychological and physical stress that every one in the family had been going through, and possibly an intensifying of this stress when the baby goes home made me sad. it was during these moments that i do wonder if we were being (in)humane when we use medical equipments in our attempts to avoid the inevitable when we know there is no hope. nonetheless, we left it at that. that was not the moment to talk about such stuff.

two days ago, an sms came in - my baby is now in critical condition. i felt sad when i saw that message.  i knew the time had come. and i was sure he knew too. but it was not appropriate to say anything that sounded any less than good. i could only wish him strength.

and last evening, the news came in. my baby has passed away...