As I Promised... The Story of Baby Deuce

What you are about to read is the official, true story of my premature son, Deuce. This was written 3 days after his passing. It has been read by many wonderful people all over the world, all the supportive people in the forums. Thank you so much. My son is my inspiration. He gave me the strength and desire to help other pregnant mommies. It is a difficult thing to lose a child.

Please, share his life with a person you care about.

As I promised, here is the special letter to you all.

April 26th was a happy day for James and I. It was confirmed that we were pregnant. We immediately knew what his name was. James just KNEW the baby was a boy! We decided to name him after him; James Seth- We’d call him “Deuce”, as he would be the second. (Deuce means “2”)

As the months went on, on occasion, I’d ask James what time it was… Or he would ask me. The time would often be--- “something”: 11. In other words, it could be 1:11, 2:11, 3:11, 4:11, 5:11, 6:11, 7:11, 8:11, 9:11, 10:11, 11:11, or 12:11.

One of the times, James said, “This is Deuce, Deuce!” Ever since we adopted the number 11 as Deuce! Deuce means “2”… One and one is two.

This continued for months!! Every time this happened, we’d get all excited and shout, “Deuce Booty!” or “Deuce, Deuce!” And I’d rub my belly and smile.

On September 13, 2007, our Deuce Booty was removed from my belly by emergency c-section. When I woke up from surgery, I heard a baby cry. The nurse was in my room. I said drowsily, “Is that my baby?” She said, “No… That’s another woman’s baby in the room on the other side of the curtain.”

I felt so sad. I hadn’t seen my baby. I hadn’t held him. I hadn’t heard him cry. I kept asking for my son and I was being told that I’d have to wait because he was being stabilized. They were preparing to send him to a more experienced hospital that specializes in premature babies. I felt so empty. It was only James and I and boy did we worry about our son. James couldn’t even see him. Through the rest of the day and through the night, our spirits continued to be brighter when we’d spontaneously see “something”:11.

Baby Deuce: Picture was taken by my mother in law on 10/14/07

When I was released from the hospital, and was able to begin seeing my baby boy at the new hospital, the “something”:11’s continued. By now, it was so regular to us that we’d announce it in the middle of conversation, smile, and continue on.

As you all know, Deuce did very well in the hospital. He was a trooper. If you read all the posts, it’s pretty clear. But if you are a NICU parent, or Preemie parent, you know that there are very scary moments. His first scary moment was his VAD surgery. I posted about that and it was awesome because his bedside was number 11. YAY! Before his surgery, I was at his bedside typing on my laptop. The log that I typed AFTER that surgery ended at 4:11 pm, so there- you have witnessed it. I looked at the clock, and that’s what time it was.

Deuce was then transported back to his regular hospital and we continued to spend time with him, and continued to recognize the number “11”. It was in the time, and in other random things.

On Monday, October 15th, we received a devastating call. They were preparing to transport Deuce back to the surgical hospital. They said he developed NEC and he had a perforation in his intestine. He would need surgery. I asked when they would be transporting him. They said the transport team would be on their way as soon as they received my verbal consent over the telephone. I consented.

When Deuce arrived at the hospital, the nurse explained many things to me and gave me information of his transport condition and details like visiting hours and his bedside number. That conversation devastated me even more.

Note: Have you heard of, or seen the movie with Jim Carey called “The Number 23”? James and I watched it about 3 weeks ago. I will never watch it again. It was oh so similar to the same calculation of numbers, and the random visualization that we have of the number "11", but its of the number 23. In this movie the number 23 was NOT GOOD. It was the worst number in the world to the characters in the movie. It was an EXTREMELY dangerous number.

On October 17th, Deuce’s surgery was performed. It was only about a half hour. (Yeah, I know.) We were then given word that there was “nothing else they can do”. We had to decide whether or not to remove all medical treatment for our boy.

Another Note: This is the most horrible… Worst feeling in the world. I would NEVER put that on anyone.

Hours and hours went by-- our parents and “11” by our side. “It just doesn’t feel right” I kept saying. We wanted our son out of this horrible pain, but at the same time, I couldn’t sit right with the doctor’s words! I could not accept what he said to us! I had many conferences that night in the hospital with our parents, James and the Lord. I even made them arrange a second conference with some other doctor that didn’t even DO Deuce’s surgery. The others had already gone home for the night.



I called a dear friend on the phone. (You know who you are) and she gave me great advice. I felt so much better and decided what to do.

After conferencing one final time with James, I told him that I don’t want Deuce Booty in pain anymore. But, I HAD to find the answers to questions that I had. Time was an issue. I couldn’t find a gifted doctor that could make anything happen in this little time. I didn’t want him suffering as I tried. We decided to let Deuce go home.

We went into the room and I began reading the consent to remove treatment. I filled out the top half of the paper. By the time I got to the bottom I stopped. I suddenly and quietly whispered into James’ ear.

“It’s not time yet.” He put his head up and looked over at the monitor and read his heart rate. It was at 173 and his oxygen was at 92. (You do the math of each of those!) He said, “’Let’s wait.” We turned to the nurse and our parents and said, “We’re gonna wait til tomorrow.”

Our parents assured us that it was okay, and that we didn’t have to rush. We left to go back home—with smiles. James is always on me about making sure that I eat. So, realizing that we BOTH hadn’t eaten all day, we stopped at Mc Donald’s on the way home. You know how if you order, they put a number beside each item? Even if you have added tomatoes the word tomato would have a # beside it. Our order receipt looked like this:

1 - TOMATO
1 - SHRED LETTUCE
2 - 10 MCNUGGETS MEAL (yeah the kids can eat!)
1 – DBL QTR CH MEAL (James’ food!)
1 – FILET – O – FISH MEAL (that’s mine!)
_1 – W/O CHEESE (its indented like that on the receipt)
2 – MED HI-C ORANGE
1 – MED SPRITE
1 – MED SWEET TEA

Add up our order!!! It all equals "11"!!

But WAIT-- THEEEEEERRRRREEEE’S MORE!

Deuce’s energy was so HIGH and STRONG that night that we notice more on this same receipt! We got plenty of Deuce-Deuces!! (22's) Our total after tax came up to $22.22!! We noticed IMMEDIATELY, when the cashier gave the total! Not thinking of anything, we gave thirty dollars. (a 10 and a 20 dollar bill—irrelevant!) But, our change back was $7.78!!!! Do the math! 7+7+8 equals 22!!!!! (or, Deuce-Deuce) I know this all seems strange and unbelievable, but we did keep the receipt and I will scan it and put it on this page when I get to Kinkos in the next couple days. I would not make ANY OF THIS up. This is a significant piece that we have left of Deuce.

**NOTE: The McDonald's Receipt is posted!

The next morning, I woke up early and posted on the preemie community forum. I made a plea for answers. I was petrified about taking Deuce off life support and not having any answers to feel as if it was the right thing to do. You can see the post, and be led to where I posted the entire plea—On my blog there here:

http://preemie.clinicahealth.com/comments.pl?sid=07/10/18/1319251

That late morning, James’ mom called from the hospital to let us know that his condition was still quickly deteriorating. The doctor said that he didn’t think we even NEEDED a consent signed for stopping his treatment. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it through the night. We rushed up to the hospital. We checked in with James’ mom and James went to Deuce’s bedside. I couldn’t go in. James and I had a discussion that morning how I felt comfortable with the way my moments with Deuce last night were. I was afraid to go in before they were to let him go. I was afraid to stay during the process. I didn’t want any sudden changes happening, and I didn’t want to see him go through what he was about to endure.

I explained that morning, at home, to James that I was fearful of what his memories might be after being there for “that”. I love my husband very much. But he needed to be there at every single moment that day, for our son. I had to be by my husband’s side and support him. He felt this was how he would receive closure.

I went and sat in the waiting room. Very soon after, James and the nurse walked to the door. I opened it and stepped outside with them. They advised me that I also had to give verbal consent of the stopping of the treatment. I did. They walked away, back to Deuce’s bedside, and I went to the waiting area.



I sat back down in my same chair by the phone. Looked at the clock and it was 3:11. I smiled, but felt sad. Time went on. James finally came out. He said, “Babe… The time of death was in military time. It was 15:41.” (Do the math!! Everybody-- 1+5+4+1 equals what??? “11”!!! I smiled. I felt secure. I asked if he was okay as he hugged me, and he asked the same. We felt good. He said he was going to go back in the room to check on his mom and asked if I was okay to be here alone in a room by myself after all this. I sure was!!

He came back about 5 minutes later and said,

“Baby, the nurse said that the time of death that THEY clock is not accurate because they go by whatever the doctor says.”

I got worried a bit. He got this particular 15:41 time from the nurse’s perspective. I guess when the heart stops. The heart will stop beating at one particular time, and then the doctor determines the actual time of death.

“The ACTUAL time of death per the doctor is 15:50…” (Should I say it again? Do the math!! 1+5+5+0 equals “11”!!!) I was shocked!! But we were SURE.

So, ladies and gentlemen, this is exactly why James and I are at peace. This is what we think of every time we miss our Deuce Booty. When we see the number 11, or 22’s… or that time just keeps hitting “something”:11, we smile and say, “Deuce-Deuce!”

The children are coping well with it too, as they add times too. I’m finding that they are also getting into SUBTRACTING numbers randomly to make “11”. Today at my daughter’s 9th birthday party, I was looking for my microphone with my sister and James. We pulled out an old digital scale that I hadn’t yet been put back up into my bedroom. I stepped on it to see my weight and it said, “123.5 lbs”!! My sister FREAKED! James was smiling!! The scale isn’t even calibrated correctly! That’s NOT MY WEIGHT!! I went to the doctor for my 6 week post op appointment on October 17th, in the morning! I weighed 130.5! That doesn’t add up, but the old scale gave me that weight today!! Deuce-Deuce!!

Please keep in touch. We love and thank you all.

Final note: What is the reason that I don’t like the movie “The Number 23”? During this final short stay in the hospital when he got very sick, October 15th – October 18th, and when he passed, Deuce’s bedside was #23. Click here for Pregnancy Loss

Click Here to See Your Baby!!!

Click Here to go to Sharing Our Birth and Pregnancy Stories






Return from As I Promised... The Story Of Baby Deuce back to Pregnancy-Prep-101.com Homepage