Olivia Grace Gee was taken to Heaven at three months old. She was born to my nephew Justin and his wife Lasanthi.
When Olivia gave up her fight, she gave Justin a wide eyed gaze and then she sighed her last breathe.
Lasanthi was rocking and holding her baby girl when Justin got on his knees and kissed her little forehead. He said to her, "Thank you for letting me be your Daddy." She was surrounded by love, the perish Priest was present as were the two nurses who had pumped her heart with their hand until the doctor could arrive. She passed in her mother's arms.
Her mother was pumping milk every three hours to nourish her baby. Olivia was fed through a stomach tube. She had carried her inside her body and then clung to hope after she was born. Hope yes, but not unrealistically. They knew the challenges and the possibility that she wouldn't be able to thrive. Now her grief is deeper than anyone else could understand unless they too had experienced the same exact kind of agony.
"Olivia had fought" Justin told me. "In the three short months she lived, Aunt Bev, she had six surgeries and each time she came out with her little fists raised and determined to get through surgery four, five and six. The doctor asked me how much more? And I told them until Olivia says it is enough. She will let us know, and she did."
Justin also told me that he got to see her happy once too: happy and giggling. They put a little musical mobile above her crib and as it turned, she giggled and kicked her little legs.
"Lasanthi and I, when we look at each other Aunt Bev, Lasanthi sees Olivia in me and I see Olivia in Lasanthi's eyes. That is God's grace."
Olivia is our little Angel.
"I am fascinated by beautiful skies and diverse landscapes. I make the Pacific Northwest my home. My husband and I have been abundantly blessed with six grown children and sixteen grandchildren. Art, music and words, are my passion.
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