When I found my child, he was obviously dead. He was stiff, cold, covered in purple spots, stiff, and his eyes were frozen open. Even so, I still called 911 and did CPR until the paramedics arrived. When they left, I went with them. Since they were short a person, I had to help in the ambulance. They had me hold the tube after he was intubated. Though it was clear he'd been dead for sometime, I begged the doctors to help him. They hooked him up to every machine in the hospital. While we waited, lividity set in. I sat in the room with him for foyr hours, waiting for the coroner. During that time I stayed close to him, a wadded up tissue in my hand. Fluids were beginning to emerge and I wiped everything away. I couldn't stand to see blood on his little face.
As a parent you don't look at your unconscious kid and say, "Yep, dead." You pull out every piece of knowlegde you have and you try to save them until help arrives. I've yet to meet a child loss parent who didn't maintain hope. We're the last ones to give up.