How April Died

This is by far the hardest post to write. When I looked at the pictures that are in the previous posts and read our journal from 1982 the good memories flooded back. Of course behind all of the good stuff lurks the pain of her untimely death. Even 28 years later this is very difficult to relive. I'm not sure if Joan will look at today's post - I kinda hope she doesn't. She has always had trouble sleeping when there is any issue going on in the kids lives.

Joan & Lisa at Wisconsin Memorial Park





In the memory journal that we wrote in Door County after the funeral we didn't write about this subject. So this is purely from memory and a memory that for the past 28 years I tried to erase or at least block from thought.

Joan and I were getting ready to go camping at the end of August, 1982 - probably Labor Day Weekend. We had bought a used Jayco pop-up camper that year to make it easier with all of the baby gear that went along. Jack (Joan's brother), wife Jean and infant Jennifer were going to join us. This really has nothing to do with anything other than it's what we remember was going on in our lives at the time.

The night before April died she did something she had never done before. After putting her in the crib for the night a while later she showed up in the living room. Our first thought was that we had left the side rail down. But that wasn't the case so we took her back to bed, rubbed her back awhile and left. And out she came again.

We checked out the crib and found that the mattress was indeed in the lowest level and the gate was up. She obviously had inherited her mother's gymnastic gene and was able to pull herself up on the front crib rail - like a pull-up , swing her pudgy leg up, slide over the rail and drop four feet to the floor. Mind you she did this without making much noise because we were about 15' away.

I don't remember how many times she did this before we gave up putting her back into the crib - but in was three or more times. She never cried, she just came out of her room. We are the type of parents that normally don't give in to our kids. That when faced with a situation like this we take it as an us-Vs-April and WE are going to win. That's us usually but in this case I let her lay on my chest as I read the paper and I put her to bed several hours later when I turned in. That's my last memory of April and it's a good one.

The next day I received a frantic call at Allis-Chalmers Tractor, where I worked. Joan said "come home right away!" Since I walked to work for those six years I had to run home. There was an ambulance and paramedics who were working on April and they took her to the hospital. I think it was Milwaukee County General but I don't recall anymore. We waited an eternity only to be told they couldn't save her. We went in to a cold, sterile, ER to say goodbye. Then we went home and had to make several very difficult phone calls to our folks.

Family surrounds you in a time like this. With much help we bought three cemetery plots, planned a funeral, answered police detective inquiries and got through a day at a time. They also kept the TV and radio reporters away from us. We went to the funeral home but did not stay to see the many visitors who came to show their respects. Our families handled that too.

April's last hour:
The following is what Joan recounted to me.
Joan layed April in her crib to take a nap. And like the night before April appeared in the kitchen a little while later. Joan put her back in her crib but April didn't stay there.

We had an expandable accordian-style safety gate that we kept at the kitchen door or at the top of the basement stairs. Joan took this gate to April's room and put it across the doorway. Now when April climbed out of bed and tried to get out of her room she wouldn't be able to. April got to the gate and cried - she wanted out of her room. Joan layed her back down, tried to soothe her and went to the kitchen. She called her sister-in-law, Jean, to ask for ideas on how to deal with April. Jean was a teacher and also had a little one of her own. During the call April quieted down and Joan said she wanted to go check on April. But they decided that that might stir her up again if she saw Joan so she waited another minute before hanging up.

As Joan came around the corner of the kitchen she saw April on top of the safety gate. She had climbed out of her crib and then tried to crawl over the gate. She caught her neck in the top Vee of the gate. Joan grabbed her and ran outside to the neighbor's. They tried CPR and called 911. That's when Joan called me at work. Since such a short time elapsed from when April went quiet to when Joan pulled her from the gate we thought she might make it.

Guilt:
As parents we are responsible for our children. When they are little children you know you have to work extra hard to keep them safe and alive. April's death certainly made Joan feel guilty. And I have always felt it too. The fact that April died in our care is a burden to carry no matter what the circumstances.

Blame/Grief
We were told by a counselor that over 50% of marriages fail after the death of a child. Probably as a result of one spouse blaming the other... or the overwhelming guilt feelings one person might have. I really don't remember going to counseling but I remember being told that. I also remember a small booklet on the seven stages of grief.

Regrets:
April would have been an excellent candidate for organ transplants. However, no one at the hospital brought it up and we were in no condition to think rationally. I think it would have given us some comfort had others benefitted from this tragic loss.

Talking about April
I'm telling this story for many reasons. When people ask "how many children do you have?" I have always felt a little guilty saying "three". It feels like we aren't acknowledging April. But three is the easy answer.
People are curious. Some people know we had another child but are reluctant to ask what happened to her. We can now direct people here to get the story.
We would be happy to talk about April with anyone. It isn't a taboo subject.

The next and last post: The nightmare wasn't over when April died.