Stories of Lost Children
My Grief Story of Kyla T
by Sarah, Harvest, AL, U.S.A.
It was a pleasantly warm afternoon on October 8th, 2002. Kyla and I had spent the day out shopping and paying bills. She wore this cute little pink wind pants, and her pink sunglasses. We played and skipped across the stores together. Later, I stopped at our friend, Uncle Matt’s house near our home. He was getting ready to leave so I didn’t take Ky out of the carseat. We ran down the street to our house and I ran in to get some cash so we could go to Burger King. While waiting in the drive through line, Kyla was irritating me and pulling her new sunglasses apart. I took them off her, and she begged for them back, and broke them. I was a little angry, and told her she wasn’t going to have any french fries. We got home and Kyla refused to walk up the front steps, for she wanted to see “Uncle Matt”. I finally got her in and we made up with a hug and I gave her some graduate cookies and sent her off to the playroom to watch her newly favorite movie, "Monsters Inc." which she called,"kitty, boo." I finished my burger and proceded to go to the bathroom. I have IBS (irritable bowel syndrome). Ky came in once and asked, "more cookies mommy?" I told her to get me the box off the end table, and she walked away. I know it was after 4pm cos I remember hearing Oprah on TV. I walked through the doorway to the other room and all was quiet. I figured she had finally fallen asleep due to exhaustion, since she hadn’t napped. She wasn’t in the room, and normally, I would have thought she went upstairs to her bedroom to play, but this time I felt different. I knew. I ran back into the main living room and opened up the back door. I had hook n eye latches on all the doors because she recently started to open them. Sure enough, there was my Ky, face down, floating in the pool. There are two doors to the pool out back, always locked and a dog door in the laundry area. We have a rottweiler, so it’s pretty big, even I can and have gone through. But we haven’t had the door open in months because we were fostering a dog that we didn’t want in the house. I jumped into the pool, in blue jeans, and tried to laterally throw her out onto the edge from the deep end. I couldn’t pull myself out, so I swam across to the ladder and ran over to her and tried to start CPR. I slammed into the french doors, but they were locked. So I ran back to the other door, and grabbed the phone, calling 911, and screaming for someone, anyone, to help. The operator was mean, and put me through to someone else who helped me do CPR on her. There was just so much water coming up. Within minutes, the firemen came along with police and EMTs too and they moved her into the ambulance and continued to work on her. My dog had gotten out due to the ripping off of the gate door. And the jerk cop was more concerned about me getting her! I kept trying to call Todd but nothing. So I ran across to my neighbors and he helped control me.
Told pulled his truck into the yard and immediately fell to the ground. He knew. He later told me he had heard the sirens when he was walking into the grocery store down the street, getting dinner. They wouldn’t let me go with her since I was so spastic. So our neighbor drove us to the hospital. Oh, they had to have an investigator there, and wouldn’t let us leave until they got word that they brought her heart back. I had called my father who lives 700 miles away who in turn called my sister who was there at the pediatric ER when we arrived.
They put a warm blanket on me and pulled us into a room. I lost it again. And they were reassuring (liars) and we finally got to go see her. She was really cold and they were bagging her, and had heat lamps on her. They gave me some scrubs to wear and we went with them to the PICU upstairs. There a stupid investigator talked to us… I don’t much remember, all a blur, just wanted to be with our baby. Seemed like forever sitting there in that waiting room with just Todd, Vic, and my sister. An eternity later, a nurse came out and pulled us aside. There, we learned the horrific news; Kyla was mostly brain dead and they were still trying to stabilize her. We knew there was no hope, but still we waited some more until we finally got to talk with the Dr in the PICU. What I now look back on, I should have pulled the plug on her then. Instead of going through the next several weeks of emotional hell. I would have had at least some chance of saving some of her organs for donation. We were told many different things during the next weeks. Kyla had probably learned to open the dog door herself and gotten out. Neither of us remembers opening it. And although she was only out of my sight for 5 or 10 minutes at the most, she had probably been without oxygen for more like a total of 20 minutes or more. The pool water was pretty warm, and if it had been icy cold, the brain shuts more rapidly, and less damage is done. She had a very low PH level and very few survive, especially from such warm water. And as Kyla lay in a coma, I too died inside. We went through phases of wanting to never leave her side, to it was too much to bear anymore. Kyla hung on and gave us false hope of survival. She’d move her arm and her heart rate would go up when I walked into the room or sang to her. We slept in that tiny room every night, me in a chair and Todd on the floor. Finally convinced, we decided to take her off the respirator. Still hooked to wires I was allowed to hold and rock her in a chair to say goodbye. I sang our song that I played each night for bed for her. "Close To You", you know the one that goes, "Why do birds suddenly appear, every time, you are near? Just like me, they long to be, close to you. Why do stars fall down from the sky, every time, you walk by? Just like me, they long to be, close to you. On the day that you were born, the angels got together and decided to create a dream come true. So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold, and star light in your eyes of blue..." Well, we left the room cos they told us it could be bad to be watching her retch for air. Hours passed, and we spent the night in a hotel, calling every hour to see if she passed. Nothing. This went on for days, and her lungs had gotten so strong from the machines that she wasn’t going to quit breathing on her own. Which made things harder for organ donation. Convinced again, we did the unthinkable, taking her off all nutritional support. They had to move her out of PICU and onto the floor. There we watched our little girl whither away to nothing. Meantime, my father and Todd’s parents both came down from PA. And my sister and her friends helped clean up all the Kyla items from the house and put them into the garage out back. We made funeral arrangements, and I picked out an urn. I wanted Ky to be with us always, since she always was. She was shy, but warm to everyone, but a mommy and daddy’s girl. She has two big ½ sisters that got to see her once in the hospital before she got bad looking. Little Sarah, then 13 sang some rock songs to her. Kyla loved Ozzy Osbourne and called him ozzybourne, and sang Eminem’s song, "I’m sorry mama." During our stay on the pediatric floor, I was offended by the nurses and staff. I wanted them out and decided that other than to check her vitals, we would care for her. We were given a stethoscope to listen to the rattle in her lungs that worsened each day or less. Kyla lay like a concentration camp victim. Her sunken, glassy eyes, and ribs poking out. The other Dr would have given her morphine, but she wasn’t on duty at this point. Which angered us. Finally, I decided I wanted her to die at home. So, we made arrangements with hospice care, and Todd carried her out to the car. There our favorite Dr showed up with her daughter; she had thought Kyla had gone, and wanted to come find out. Todd sat in the back with Kyla on the drive home. She stopped breathing once, and started back up, and at 3:43 PM, October 24th, her last breath of air was expelled. It was very hard for Todd not to breathe into her. Not knowing what to do, I just drove home. We were half way between both the hospital and the house. There Todd brought her in and lay her on the sofa and I in turn called the hospice, which called the coroner. And yet once again, as all the neighbors were pulling up from their jobs to home, the street was littered with cop cars and the coroner. I didn’t want a scene at the hospital but this was worse. I had made a memorial tape while at the hospital and showed that at the funeral service. I know it was hard for some but I feel it was better to see the happy little singing girl alive and well (she had never even been sick in 2 years!) than to see a small dead child that didn’t even resemble our daughter. We plastered the room with photos, the Urn, and some of her favorite stuffed toys and blankie.
We had a memorial fund set up and plan to have a brick in her name placed at the Pittsburgh Zoo and Birmingham Zoo down here. She had gone to many. I may also have a plaque placed in the hospital. Needless to say, we moved out of the house, and still are moving some of Kyla’s things in storage. At the new place we have my (her's) old wood toy box set up in the living room with her Urn, a candle to light, some pictures, her baby book, her Elmo and baby doll and the pants and shoes she wore that day. The neighbors have horses out back that come up to our fence, and I know Ky would have loved that! Reliving this story hurts, and is the hardest thing about going to sleep each night. While Kyla was in the hospital, I thought I could have been pregnant. I wanted another but Todd wasn’t sure. He is 13 yrs older than me and already had his 3 girl’s total. Now more than ever we are actively trying for a baby, and maybe another one after that. If I conceive this month it will be due between the day Kyla drowned and died. May she always live on in the hearts of all of those that knew and loved her, and those who just even know of her? She is greatly missed. Sarah, KYLA THERESA
Born:July 25,2000
Drown:Oct 8,2002
Died:Oct 24,2002
http://www.babiesonline.com/babies/m/missingkyla
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