Leah's Life

Leah Veronica Klug arrived at 2:25 pm on June 24, 2008. Her dad cut the cord, and then brought her to me, wrapped in a towel and still wet from delivery. I touched her tummy with my finger and said, “Hey little guy.” Jeff responded, “I don’t think it’s a guy.” I looked down and saw that we had a daughter.

She opened an eye and looked up at us for a second. She moved a little bit, but not much, just a few wiggles. She grabbed my finger, just as I’d hoped. Her skin was so soft. She had her daddy’s ears. I whispered into those ears. I told her how beautiful she was, and how proud I was of her for holding on, how glad I was to have a daughter. I tickled her tummy, admired her pudgy legs and arms, and marveled at her sweet little nose.

We sat, Jeff and me, with our daughter, a little family of three, on that bed. We had some private time together, but we also shared. Leah got to be held by both of her grandmas, her Uncle Bill, and Melody. She spent every second of her life, from the time that the doctor handed her over to Jeff to her last little breath, in the arms of people who loved her. All she ever felt were hugs and kisses, all she ever heard were words of love whispered into her ears.

Leah’s heartbeat stopped sometime between her check at 3 and her check at 3:15. She was born at 2:25, so we think she lived about forty-five minutes. Forty-five triumphant, glorious minutes.

After she passed away she was measured, weighed and printed. She was nine and a half inches long and one pound, six ounces. I was particularly proud of that last number because I worked really hard to gain weight so she would be big and strong.

Jeff gave her a bath. I had been unwilling to waste the precious moments of her life on getting her cleaned up. Jeff spent a very long time washing her delicate skin. The nurses said it was the longest and most careful bath they had ever seen. They offered him a job. He dressed her in her bunny outfit, and wrapped her in the blankets I had made. We took lots of pictures with our baby girl. We captured all of her “looks” with her different blankets.

When we finished we said our goodbyes and my mom carried her away.