Mysterious Ways

I just learned that my cousin's baby died. She was less than 24 hours old. I don't even know how to react to this.

This was her second child. She found out late in her pregnancy that the baby's heart was not developing properly. She and her boyfriend were dealing with the news well, and made plans to deliver in a hospital with a great pediatric department on site. She had a c-section as scheduled yesterday, and they rushed the baby straight into heart surgery. Surgery went well, but the baby started to bleed out in recovery, and they couldn't get it stopped.

My cousin never got to see her daughter alive.

My heart breaks for her. She went through nine months of the hormone roller coaster, the physical pain and exhaustion, the excitement, the worry, and the expectation of pregnancy. She dealt with the blow of finding out about the baby's physical problems, and had started to make plans like not going back to work so she could take care of the baby's special needs. She went through major surgery to deliver the baby. Now she's planning a funeral, and explaining to her 7-year-old why the baby isn't coming home.

Her situation echoes so much of what we went through with the Little Miss that it scares the shit out of me. I have no idea why I have a lovely, perfectly healthy pink-cheeked bundle of giggles and my cousin has to pick out caskets while she recovers from major surgery. There but by the grace of God go I. And there, for some reason, goes she.

Farewell, Jada. We will miss welcoming you into our family.