Disclaimer - I do not own CSI or any of its characters
Her tiny chest falls then rises again to the sound of the machine keeping her alive. She's so small, so vulnerable, and so innocent. After every thing that I've seen through out my job you'd think something like this wouldn't bother me. Your wrong!
No one should have to experience this; No one should have to watch their child slowly give up hope of living.
She looks so lost amongst the wire and tubes surrounding her. I don't even the colour of her eyes. Her tiny body would easily fit the size of my hand. I hate sitting here holding her tiny hand while I can do nothing to save her. She has barely been with me a day. Now she's slowly fading away and there's nothing I can do but to sit and wait.
This child is my life and she's been taken from me. It's as if a piece of me is slowly fading away with her. My baby.
The nurses give me looks of sympathy as they walk past. I shouldn't have to do this alone. He should be here with me. He doesn't even know that she exists; I just left without telling any one. I just packed my bags and left. I knew a family was the last thing that he wanted. I was going to have an abortion but decided against it at the last minute; I couldn't take a life. So I decided to leave it's was best for all involved, I love him too much to put him through the making the decision between his job and a family. So I made the decision for him; I was going to raise my baby on my own. I knew it would be tough but I knew I had to do it no matter what. I was going to give this baby the chance to have the life I never did.
Now as I sit here the bleeping of the heart monitor my only comfort, I feel so lonely. I know that deep down in my heart that letting her go peacefully and painlessly is the kindest thing to do but it still doesn't make it any easier. I still have to do this on my own.
A single tear flows down my cheek. This is the kindest thing for her. This is the kindest thing for her. I keep repeating the same thing over and over again. Please God let there be some chance that she might get through this, just a small chance the doctors could be wrong. Please let there be just a sliver of hope that my little girl will survive this and grow up to live a normal and happy life. If there really is a God then why is he letting this happen? Why is he taking away and innocent life that hasn't even had the chance to live?
A nurse approaches me and I know that its time to let her go. My baby girl. She doesn't even have a name. She hasn't been alive long enough for me to name her. I tell the nurse I need a few more minutes, she understands and moves away to allow me some privacy.
I've never really thought about names. I thought that I'd have more time. I want her to have a name that will mean something even when she's gone. I decide to call her Angel, because that's what she is; my Angel.
The nurse approaches me again and this time I'm ready; I'm ready to say goodbye. The nurse asks me if she has a name, I tell her its Angel. She doesn't ask questions but simply writes my baby's name on her birth certificate soon to be death certificate. She asks me if I'm ready, I nod my head silently as the tears start to flow, falling down my cheeks.
The nurse slowly takes her lifeline away. She looks even more perfect without the tube in her mouth breathing for her. The nurse then quickly but carefully removes various other wires and tubes from her tiny body. She then takes the tiny form that is my baby out of the incubator and wraps her up in the soft pink blanket that I'd bought for her only hours before she was born.
The nurse carefully and silently places her in my arms. The first time a new mother holds their baby should be the happiest moment of their lives not the sadist.
"How long should it take for her to…" I choke.
"It depends," she replies sadly "sometimes the try to fight and breath on their own. Others are just too tired and the poor souls just give up."
I look down at the tiny bundle in my arms. She tries so hard to fight for air. I can feel her wriggling in my arms as she fights for every breath.
Part of me hopes that she will win and she'll be ok, however the other part of me knows that no matter how much she tries to fight, she isn't going to win.
I hold her close to me; each breath she takes gets shallower and shallower. My heart breaks as I watch her struggle to live. I bend my head down to meet hers and kiss her forehead and whisper, "I love you, my Angel." Its then as if I have given her permission to give up because she's stopped breathing, she's stopped fighting and she's given up.
For the next half an hour I just sit with her in my arms. I trace the outline of her face with my fingers, her skins so soft. I gently lift her left eyelid. Blue. Her eyes are blue, just like her fathers.
I don't feel anything anymore, no hope, no sadness, no love, no nothing. I just feel numb as if I will never experience any emotion ever again.
I look up towards the nurse; she doesn't say anything to me. But the sadness in her eyes talks for her. I carefully place my baby in her arms. I kiss her once more on the forehead before the nurse takes her away, "Goodbye my Angel."
A/N – Thanks for reading reviews appreciated.