First Post
She Is Really Gone
May 7th – 10th, 2013
On the night of Tuesday May 7th we gave our sweet Savannah kisses good night like we did every night. I can still picture holding and squeezing her cute little body before we put her in bed. She gave us her signature big smile as she looked at us peacefully and happily. We had no idea that it would be the last moments we would have with her. The baby monitor was on all night with picture and volume. She had just started sleeping through the night, but my body was still programmed to wake up at 5am for the morning feeding I had been helping with. So at 5am I got up, grabbed the monitor, went to the living room with my laptop, and got Savannah's bottle ready so I would have it as soon as she woke up. I checked the monitor every few minutes, steps away from the room she was sleeping in. She was peacefully sleeping in her crib with her head turned to the left.
At around 7:30am Tatiana and her niece Priscilla were ready to go out for breakfast with the kids. Tatiana kept checking the monitor, waiting for Savannah to wake up. We talked about how impressed we were that she was sleeping so well already. I had an 8am meeting I should have already left for, but I couldn't get a report to print that I needed. I tried three times and for some reason it wouldn't go through, so I was still there. Tatiana had already gotten our 2-year-old son Levi dressed and decided it was time to get Savannah up. I can still hear Tatiana's scream when she walked in the room to wake Savannah up and picked her lifeless body up instead. My first thought was that some bug was in the room and freaked her out, but as I ran in and saw Tatiana simultaneously screaming and sobbing while holding Savannah, I knew something was irrevocably wrong. I grabbed Savannah and tried to give her mouth to mouth. I can still feel Savannah's little lips on mine as I hopelessly tried to breathe life into her. I called 911 and remember saying I think my little girl is dead, she isn't breathing and her body is hard. I screamed, how could this happen.
After I hung up with 911 I screamed at God to somehow bring Savannah back to life, telling him he couldn't have really let my little girl die, pleading with him to make this just a dream. I remember feeling in the moment like he was 100% to blame. He had been so good to us all our life. How could he let something like this happen to her? The rest of the day, and the next, are a blur. The ambulance arrived along with police and firefighters. It wasn't until I heard Chris Reed, our neighbor and a pastor at Saddleback, tell them incessantly that we were good parents who loved our children, that I realized we were being semi-investigated. Later we learned this is standard protocol, and we understand it needs to be done. It didn't affect me, but it bothered Tatiana, who felt like she was being accused of killing her daughter. I remember seeing Savannah being taken away in a body bag and wishing I hadn't.
That night, along with the next few, were the longest nights I have ever had. It felt like they went on forever and the morning light would never come. All the horrible images of the day would come to mind, burned in. Tatiana spent much of the night on her phone googling sudden infant death syndrome and anything else she could find. I don't recommend this. We were hungry for an understanding of what happened but struggled to find anything that made sense.
"Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer." — C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed