We Remember Elbe – The Untimely Death of a Child

When we found out I was pregnant, Jacques and I cried and laughed at the same time, hugged and kissed each other and rolled on the floor of our small apartment like two jubilant children. A few months later, when we found out that I was carrying a girl, Jacques went to the mall and bought the biggest, pinkest bear he could find.
Elbe was born on 4 September 1996 by cesarean section. Our hearts were filled with emotion; our first child! We were parents! And she was the most beautiful baby we had ever seen.
Early the next morning a nurse came to wake me with the news that Elbe had a convulsion. I called Jacques - I didn't know what was happening, I couldn't understand what they were saying! I was 21, he was 33, perhaps he would know what was going on! The day dragged on and all the doctors could tell us was that Elbe had an oxygen shortage somewhere during her fetal development and that was what caused the convulsion. During the course of the day, it happened a few more times.
We could not take our new daughter home. We were devastated. She stayed in the neonatal unit for 8 weeks. I had to go into hospital 3 times every day to expel milk for her feeding, which was administered through a tube in her nose as she had no suckling reflexes.
Soon after she came home, things kind of turned normal for us. During the 8 weeks they found many "little" problems with her that was not apparent at first, like the fact that she was blind, almost entirely deaf, had very little muscle tone and would have to stay on medication to control her ammonia levels pretty much for the rest of her life. But she was our baby and we loved her more than anything else in the world. She showered with Dad, laughed when you dressed her, learnt to drink from a bottle. The doctors were unable to diagnose the ammonia level disorder. All they said was that it was a metabolic disorder and they were unsure what caused it. She continually had to go for tests and this was very upsetting. I left my job to be with her fulltime and to care for her. Despite all that seemed wrong, she was the most perfect baby that we could ever have dreamed for. She was ours and we loved her unconditionally.
Elbe had to receive physical therapy, speech therapy and physiotherapy on a daily basis. On top of that, we were at the neurologist once a week for more tests. She was a ray of sunshine and touched the heart of everyone that worked with her. One thing I will always remember about her, is that she was always smiling.
Twenty months passed. She was all our lives revolved around. We were the Inseparable-Three. In the meantime, the Doctors advised that we try and have another baby. The logic was that the activity of another baby in the house would be excellent stimulation for Elbe. I conceived again and gave birth to a son in April of 1998. Peter-John was a prem of 34 weeks but unlike our experience with Elbe, he was strong and full of life from day one. We took him home after 1 week and Elbe immediately took to him like a house on fire. From then on, for a short while, we were the Inseparable-Four.
The Friday I will never forget.
On May 18th, Elbe developed a fever that we could not break. I was busy opening another Beauty Salon and my sister came from Cape Town to help. On Friday, May 22nd, I left Elbe and Peter-John in the care of our Nanny and my sister and I quickly slipped out for a few moments to sort out a few issues at the new salon. I phoned the Nanny a few times to check on the kids and the last time I phoned, Elbe had just finished her bottle.
When I got home, I checked on the kids and immediately knew something was amiss. Elbe was asleep but her breathing was abnormally deep and slow. I grabbed her and my sister and I rushed off to hospital. I switched on the hazard lights and drove as fast as I could. On the way to the hospital, Elbe stopped breathing. My sister gave her mouth-to-mouth but was unable to resuscitate her.
At the hospital, Jacques was already waiting outside with the surgeon. The doctor grabbed Elbe and ran into the hospital. In a resuscitation room they worked on her for more than an hour before the doctor asked Jacques if he could stop. It must be the cruelest question anyone can ask of a Father. "Is it okay if I let your child die now?" is what it sounded like. But we knew the doctor had done everything he could. Yet, Jacques pleaded with the doctor to carry on trying. Another hour passed before the medical team finally gave up. They apologized, pulled all the tubes from her body and left us alone to grieve. We held our baby tight. We could look at each other, we were crying too much, but our hands talked to each other. We could not bear the thought of leaving her there in the care of strangers. We felt like running away with her, taking her home and everything would be alright.
The official cause of death was the common flu. I still can't say it without adding an expletive starting with F and ending in -ing in front of 'flu'. Imagine! With all her problems, she had to die of a flu virus! It was so unfair. Apparently the virus attacked her heart muscle and she was not strong enough to recover. Today we know that many, many babies dies of this reason every flu season but it still does not make it easier or more acceptable.
I can't explain the feeling when we returned home without her. Peter-John was there, family was there, but the house was empty, cold and dark. We cried for days. Family had to care for Peter-John. I often just went to her room and laid down on her big pink teddy bear. In the days that passed, Jacques often found me there, sleeping or crying. We buried her with our family in Stellenbosch, a beautiful old graveyard set high on a hillside and shaded by two-hundred-year old oak trees.
Now it is ten years later. I don't think we will ever really be over the death of our child; children aren't supposed to die before parents. But we have moved on. Today we are the proud parents of four boys and we live in another country far away from Elbe's resting place. But that does not really matter. She will forever be in our hearts, until we breathe our last breath and beyond.

Jacques is the Dad of 4 boisterous boys and have spent the last 25 years living IT. He loves writing fiction & currently has 2.5 novels moldering in a drawer. With his wife, he runs www.kidsadviceonline.com