The next day the Doctors finally informed us she was both blind and deaf and if she lived she'd never walk or talk. The little red spots were becoming blisters the size of quarters filled with poisoned blood. The other children had been removed from the room and Courtney was isolated. From then on we had to wear gowns and masks to stay with her, and not once did anyone ever ask us to leave her room. We took turns sleeping right there in her room in two reclining chairs they had brought in for us when we first arrived. The blood filled blisters were awful to look at; they were on her fingers and hands, and her tiny feet. The infection had caused her tiny body to swell, making her appear much heavier than she was. A Nurse from another floor that stopped in often to check on Courtney and always say how beautiful she was, stopped by and there was only sadness on her face and tears in her eyes, there were no words depicting beauty this time around.
I sat in a darkened Playroom and I prayed harder than I have ever prayed in my life, only this time my prayers were different. I recalled that lone frozen tear and all it meant. I didn't ask God to let her live for Daddy, her big Brother, and me, I ask God to end her suffering. For She had been through too much already, I ask him to make her whole again. I then walked back to her room stood beside her little bed awhile then went and sat beside my husband where he was sleeping. I fell asleep as well, which is something we hadn't done since coming here, both of us falling asleep at the same time. Perhaps she didn't want us to see her take that final breath. I don't recall what woke us some noise in the room perhaps, but Jim reached over and took my hand. The room was full of Doctors and Nurses. They were giving Courtney heart massage, her little lips were already blue. As we stood no one said a word they just kept working with her, but her Daddy and I new she was no longer suffering. We walked out of her room hand in hand and Jim walked me to the playroom and left me there while he went to call home and tell them our precious baby was gone. One of the ladies we'd gotten to know heard about Courtney, as news like that travels fast in a hospital. She came into the playroom to tell me how sorry she was, and all I could do was nod my head and understanding she politely turned and walked away. The Doctor then found me came over and said the two little words that was already ringing in my ears, “ she's gone.” He put his arms around me to tell me how sorry they all were and that they did all they could. I was shaking so hard I couldn't talk, I knew if I ever opened my mouth I'd be lost myself. Because the tears would start and I wouldn't be able to stop them. He asked me if I was cold and I just shook my head, but he went back to Courtney's room and found my coat and put it around my shoulders. He then started talking to me and talked till Jim was back at my side but I can't tell you a thing he said at that time. Its like I saw his mouth moving but heard no words. Sometime or the other they had ask Jim if we wanted them to do an autopsy and he told them “no” she had been through enough. If it hadn't been so fresh maybe Jim would have said yes, it might have helped another child one day, but sometimes we can't see that far ahead, when the pain is so fresh.
It wasn't long till Jims brother Bud was there to pick us up, but before we left Jim asked me if I wanted to go see her, that she was no longer hooked to anything. I just shook my head I couldn't say a word, when all I wanted to do was scream and ask why they couldn't have let me hold her while she was living, even for a moment. I walked out of that hospital with her little pacifier in my hand, and I don't even know how I got the pacifier or when I could have picked it up, but it was there and I held onto it tightly. I don't think I could have made it without Jim at my side. I don't even know to this day what the hospital did with all her things, I suppose they just threw them all away, since we left without them. I don't even have a clue as to when they talked to Jim about the autopsy or what city to have the hearse come from to pick up her tiny body, I don't even know when he went in to see her without her being attached to the iv's and so on. Perhaps it was while the Doctor was talking with me in the playroom, I just never asked, as I said I couldn't open my mouth. I just know we walked outside that hospital into the cold dark night leaving such a big part of us behind, Knowing the ordeal was at least over for our little one, but for us, could it ever be?
Bud drove us to his house where Linda was up making coffee for us, there wasn't much said at least not that I remember. Lynda showed us to a room where we could lay down and get some rest, but sleep wouldn't come for either of us. He went in to ask Bud to just take us the 80 something miles to my Grandmothers so we could pick up our truck, as that's where my brother and brother in law had left it parked. We said our goodbyes and thank yous to Lynda, and were finally headed towards home. But what a sad home coming it was to be, and how in the world do we explain this to our little boy.
Bud got us to my Grandma's and let us out and we said our goodbyes and thank yous to him and he headed on back home. We walked into My Grandma's house she was in the kitchen trying to fix breakfast and trying for our sakes to stop crying. Mom hugged my neck doing her best not to cry as well, but it was all either of them could do, her and my Grandma both. We stayed a few minutes and left and headed back the opposite direction to Jim's folks. His poor old Mother was crying her heart out cause her little precious one was gone. I envied those who could show their feelings, I kept mine so bottled up making the pain so much worse. We then left there and went to my aunts and uncles where our little boy was. We picked my aunt Dessie and Jamie up and went to see our family Doctor. Jamie was a little sick and I had a fever for some reason. He told us how sorry he was about the baby and Jim thanked him for all the calls he made to Fort Smith to check on her and us. He gave Jamie some medicine and said it was nothing serious and gave me a shot saying mine was mostly exhaustion. We left the Doctors office and took aunt Dessie back home and went home ourselves, and it felt as if we'd been gone forever. When we got there, Jims sister Linda Gay and Jacque his sister in law was there straightening the house back up for us as we had left it in a hurry. Then everyone was coming bye with their love, friendship, and most of all their sympathy. My friend JoAnn came, and I couldn't even talk with her, I didn't want to start crying and never quit. I didn't realize how she was feeling at that moment either as our little one died on her birthday. Jim saw I couldn't take it and I don't truly think he was ready for it either, but anyway he put the word out for everyone to go to his parents with food etc. I couldn't open my mouth to talk to anyone I was just in a daze, it was like I was there but I wasn't. Jim borrowed Jacques car and we were going to go to Russellville and shop for the things we needed for the funeral.
Our first stop was the Funeral Home where our baby's body had been brought early that morning. We walked in and right behind us came Jim's dad Eugene, about that time a funeral director walked out and ask if he could be of help. Jim told him that we were there to see Courtney our baby that had been brought in and he told us she was in the back room right down the hall, and to go through a particular door. What he failed to tell us was that she was in the embalming room, her naked little body lying on that cold porcelain table! Though this was a grave shock to us all, I will never forget the look on Jim's dad's face, he went a ghostly white, but maybe we all did. We had no warning of what we would see in that cold room, and I wished Jims Dad hadn't seen it, but then again I wish Jim and I hadn't seen it either, its not something you are likely to ever forget. She was already embalmed and those awful places seem to drill into your brain and stay there, for they were larger than life somehow. But that wasn't the only horror the three of us saw in that room of death, if we'd been struck blind at that moment we would still see it. For when she died at the hospital she only had those horrid blisters of blood on her little hands and fingers and on her little feet. But even after death they continued to rise up and disfigure her precious beauty, and her little body was more swollen. The blisters the size of quarters completely covered her little back and were on that beautiful face, how in Gods name when the last breath in her body was gone could those things still be alive and growing?! But making them look even worse, was the fact that they had lanced those awful places leaving them looking as if they were hallowed out just gaping holes in her little flesh! It was like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from, and we were living it over and over again, as if in slow motion. I don't recall if either of us said a word while standing there staring death so squarely in the face. I do remember looking away from her body and seeing what appeared to be a little hand towel lying across a large porcelain sink. I walked over picked it up and brought it back thinking to cover Courtney as best as I could with it. All I thought about besides the horror of seeing her that way was the fact that she didn't like being without her clothes on. She always cried till her clothes were put back on, I could hear her crying somewhere in the back of my mind, and as gently as I could I draped that little towel over her, and the crying stopped. The next thing I remember was being back in the lobby of the Funeral Home where the owner had come in and was apologizing for us being sent to that room, we weren't supposed to be in there and see what we did. Apologies come to late sometimes to do any good. We were then asked to pick out a casket, the only baby one they had there was a tiny blue and white gingham checked one. The owner told us he could order another in a different color but it would take a few days to get it in. So we just chose the one he had not wanting to put this off any longer. He asked us if we had her clothes and Jim told him we were own our way to get them, and he said that was fine. Jims Dad walked out with us and went on home and Jim and I headed on to Russellville shopping to pick out her last little outfit.
It didn't take long to find what we wanted which consisted of a little white sweater set with pink roses, a sweater cap that would come around part of her little cheeks and tie under her chin, a pair of white satin pants, and a pink shawl blanket to wrap her in. While we were there we ran into Mrs. Modena a lifelong friend and my old second grade teacher as well. She gave us her sympathies hugged us both, and then noticed the baby things in the cart and you could see the sorrow on her face. She hugged us again and just turned with tears in her eyes and walked away.
We got back to the Funeral home with the little clothes, and told the funeral director two things, call us at my Grandmothers when she's ready and do not let anyone else see her until we do. As we had decided, if they couldn't cover those awful places on her little face then we wouldn't let anyone else see her, it would just be a closed casket. The director said he understood, so we went on to my Grandmothers to wait. My Aunt Susie was there and asked us if she could go see the baby, and we told her after we saw her we would then call her and let her know. She asked no questions as to why, and for that we were both grateful. As always time seemed to pass slowly, when the phone finally rang we both jumped. Grandma had answered and told us when she hang up the receiver, that they had her ready.
When we walked into the funeral home we saw two of Jims sisters Doris and Elaine and their husbands, standing over the little blue gingham casket, crying their eyes out. At that moment I wanted to scream at them to get out, they weren't supposed to be in there. God knows it wasn't because I didn't want them there, it was the fact that Jim and I wanted to see her first, to be sure everyone would see that beautiful baby that had captured all their hearts just a short time ago. We didn't want anyone to see the little face ravaged by sickness and death, that we along with Jims Dad had witnessed only a few hours before. Jim and I looked at each other and I told him, they aren't supposed to be here. I know they heard me but I couldn't help it. I didn't want to hurt their feelings, that was the last thing on my mind, I wanted them and everyone else spared, but they didn't know that at the time, they just walked out past us tears streaming down their faces. But still I'd rather them have their feelings hurt than have that kind of memory of her in their minds forever. Jim I guess explained things to them later, I don't really know. But no one had seen her marred by her sickness neither in the hospital nor here at the funeral home except for his Dad and that's how we wanted to keep it. But was it too late, what had they just saw, and what imprinted memory did they walk away with, amidst the anguished tears and faces they were wearing?!
For once we were almost afraid to walk into a room where she lay, and each step we took seemed to be in slow motion and get longer and longer. It seemed an eternity before we were at the side of that tiny casket. Once there and our eyes upon her was almost like having the wind knocked from us both. For there was our tiny beautiful baby, looking as though she was just sleeping the most peaceful sleep. You could all but see her little chest rise and fall. I knew the pain Jim was feeling the memories that rushed back to him of his little Kitten. I could feel it in his grip on my shoulders, so tight it hurt. The moment we saw her there our only thought was this couldn't be true; our only impulse was to pick her up and hold her in our arms. But all we could do was stare down at her, with so many thoughts and unanswered questions running through our minds. Why? Just plain WHY, being the biggest question of them all. How long we stood there I can't recall, but I do know when we did turn to leave it was hard so hard, we didn't want to leave her in this room all alone. Jim called My Grandmothers to let my aunt Susie, who was there waiting, know that it was ok to come see the baby, and to let the rest of the family know as well. We knew all those that loved her wanted their moment with her to say their own sweet goodbyes, and now they could do so.
It wasn't long till both aunt Susie and aunt Dessie got there to see Courtney, for their last time. It was hard seeing all the smiles I remembered for her replaced now by tears. But when I didn't think it could get much worse my brother Terry and brother in-law Gary walked in to see the baby. It seemed to hurt worse seeing those grown men show their grief through tears they weren't a bit ashamed of for that little one, how they loved her.
We left there and went to the flower shop to order flowers and Aunt Dessie went with us so she could order some as well. The ones Jim and I picked out turned out to be lovely, as they did them just as we asked. They were made up of pink rose buds, white daisies, baby's breath and greenery with a pink and white floral lace, covering the bottom to resemble a receiving blanket. We did what we had to do told aunt Dessie we would see her later hugged her and went on.
We drove across the mountain and picked out the spot for her little grave, the same cemetery where I had family members already at rest. It was a beautiful and serene spot, but so far away from our home. There happened to be a cemetery just down the rode from our home, where some of Jim's family laid at rest, but at the time I didn't feel I could pass there everyday of my life knowing Courtney was there. Later Jims Dad and two of his brothers came over and dug the tiny grave. My sweet Grandmother was upset at her grave spot. Since she wasn't being buried in the spot where other family members were, she felt the baby was all-alone, that's how my Grandmother looked at things. Jim and I told her not to worry, there was another little baby not far from her and they could keep each other company, but it still bothered her.
Robert Winsett a dear friend of ours had gotten the word of Courtney's death while working in North Carolina, and came straight on home to be with us through the ordeal, a better friend you couldn't have. The night he got here we went down with him to see Courtney, he and Jim were standing there talking. I walked over by Courtney's side and ran my fingers down her little cheek, where that loan tear had been only a few nights ago. I knew to expect no warmth, no softness just deaths cold, raging through my skin and that's what I felt. Still feeling so much like a nightmare I couldn't wake from, but knowing it was real all the while, also knowing this was something I'd never get over.
The day of the funeral everyone met at my Grandmother's house before starting the long trip across the mountain, and a long trip it was. It seemed twice as long going this day than it had the day Jim and I went to pick out the gravesite. The longest ride of our lives, and time to say our final goodbye.
Reverend Storts (also a former school teacher and friend of mine) did the graveside service and everyone said it was beautiful. Said he did an exert from a service that was done at Roy Rogers and Dale Evans child's service (early movie stars), but I didn't hear the words. I saw people everywhere, I saw beautiful flowers everywhere, and I saw that blue and white gingham checked casket waiting to be placed below the cold hard earth. I sat like a statue, no tears down my cheeks, so built up with pain I thought I would explode, but no one, no one would see my tears! They were mine and mine alone, and I would bare them till I was alone safe somewhere. The last Amen was said, people with their words of sympathy all voiced out, hand shaking all done, embracing all done, the last tear wiped dry. That last spade of earth was finally placed atop the grave, the flowers all neatly arranged, vehicles started and headed back on the highway from which they came. If only the pain stopped there at that little mound of earth, but it doesn't! The story doesn't end there, you don't drive home and everything is okay. That is one goodbye that is never over with the last spade of earth. People say when you get through the funeral you have the hardest part behind you, but that's not so, at least not for me.
You go home to a once full house, that now seems so empty, the crowd that was there to support you all vanish, going back to their own lives. So weary and exhausted you sleep for what seems like days and then suddenly your eyes are opened to all that's really happened. That's when the loss truly strikes, that's when you buckle and fall apart. That's when you all but go insane, sitting in your daughters room amidst her things in your rocking chair just sitting there, and having your little son talking to his sisters picture, and looking for her all over the house. You can't get him to understand why his little sister has gone to Heaven, and no longer lives with us. That's when your husband takes all your babies things and gives them away cause he feels your going insane. That's when your husband takes the cradle he rocked his baby in down and chops it all to hell so no other baby will ever sleep in it! You want to curl up inside yourself and stay there, you don't know if your coming or going, you don't care anymore! All you want is for each of those long pain filled days to be over. You want to lash out at anyone around, you want to be angry, but don't know who to be angry with, or lash out at. Reality becomes a dirty word, you want to slip into a fantasy world where everything is the way it was. Every memory that was so loving and warm becomes a torture, but just getting out of bed is a torture. You wake up in the middle of the night to answer your baby's cries, only to find an empty crib and to realize the cries are all in your head. Or be somewhere and truly hear a baby cry and get so deathly sick, having your heart pounding in your ears as the memories rush in. You have to flee the place you are, just to get away, because it tares you literally apart on the inside, to even hear another baby. Nightmares that haunt you when you let yourself sleep, your baby crying and your digging with your bare hands at that little mound of dirt never being able to reach her cries. Or the terrible emptiness that seems to envelope you, like a shroud covering everything that was ever bright and wonderful in your life. Sinking you into some dark abyss that you can't find your way out of. Running to your Doctor every time your living sibling gets a sniffle, feeling he has the same thing that took the life from your precious baby. Breaking down and showing tears for the first time in front of your Doctor, when he tells you you're pregnant again. You're first thought being “NO” I can't go through this again, I won't!!! You question your faith, you blame God. You look for a way, anyway, to just forget as each day wears on.
No, nothing ends with that last goodbye, or that last spade of earth. Some may write it all down and choose to forget. But it comes back to haunt to you eventually, and you have to deal with it the best way you can. Perhaps by re-writing and getting it all out in the open for the first time. Do I have my answers now, do I have peace of mind after thirty years. I don't know, but there is a calm I have never felt before. A sense of reunion for the good memories I let slip away within those forgotten pages. Have I come to grips with the message I received at her bedside letting me know my prayers were all wrong, I don't know that either. So you see, there is no end to this story and never will be. I just know at this moment I see that beautiful smile so clearly, and this time, its all for me.
By...Debbie Rogers
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