September 22, 2015 was the last day on Earth for that new baby girl. A monster got to her and took her away from us. Monsters can be surreal, especially when they stand back and watch as I attempt to push air into the tiny lungs; wanting her chest to rise and fall with natural breaths. But it doesn't. Not even with the chest compressions her grandfather was applying to accomodate the breaths.
Then paramedics take over and attempt to supply air to her lungs, and continue as they take her little body on the stretcher to the ambulance to take her to the baby emergency room.
In the children's hospital, her mother holds her lifeless body, as momma rocks and cries. And rocks and cries. The monster was there and he had a panic attack, so he got to go to the other emergency room. His father went with him.
Momma had to talk to people, so I held my new baby girl and rocked and cried. And rocked and cried.
Two days later, the monster confessed to the police that he had killed his daughter. Blunt force trauma around the head and a broken arm.
He sits in jail; alive.
I hate him.