Cooper David
Donation protected
Cooper David
April 6, 2017 - April 12, 2017
It is with great sadness that I am requesting your support in honouring the life of Cooper Dubé. Dave and Amanda are already so moved by the outpouring of kind words and offers of support. If anyone feels inclined to help further, I know they are facing some unexpected finacial stresses that come with tragedy. In order to relieve them of some of these burdens and help their road to recovery, donations to this wonderful and deserving family are appreciated.
Thank you for considering.
Words from the family:
When we found out we were expecting a little boy we were all overjoyed. It didn't take long before we had settled on the perfect name for our final puzzle piece and began getting everything prepared for Cooper's arrival. Big sister books for Kinley, the letters of Cooper's name for his wall, and more clothes than you could ever imagine in his freshly painted dresser and hanging in his closet. A very smooth pregnancy in comparison to our scary experience with Kinley left us feeling calm, confident and excited. It wasn't until 34 weeks along when an ultrasound done to check on high fluid showed potential red flags. The next 4 weeks were a blur of worry, Googling, meetings, and more ultrasounds, but ultimately we continued to stay positive and trust that our little boy would be okay. Though we were warned of potential genetic disorders (nothing specific) which could have frightening outcomes, we were also reassured that it could also just be a positional issue which would mean some physical therapy, braces or worst case need a few surgeries. We took comfort in our perfect 20 week anatomy scan and reassured each other that it would likely be no big deal and just a silly scare that we would all look back on and sigh. We came to the hospital, bags packed for cooper, nervous but mostly just excited to meet him. The c-section went perfectly smooth, and we held our breath until we finally heard the cry from the other room where the NICU team had quickly taken him to. It was immediately clear to the team, and later to us when we finally met him, that this was not going to be the perfect scenario we had planned and prayed for. Cooper's arms and legs had several "contractions" (fixed in flexed or extended positions), and he had almost no muscle tone. He didn't open his eyes or move at all. He needed support breathing right away and also had no gag reflux or ability to swallow. His tiny, underdeveloped bones had suffered fractures, and he also had a dislocated hip. The next 2 days felt like 2 years as we waited for answers, none of which were the ones we wanted. We still don't know the exact reason this happened, though doctors are confident in their diagnosis of a rare genetic disorder called Pena Shokeir which only has 100 known cases. The doctors reassure us that it was nothing we did or didn't do and that it was a strike of lightning bad luck. We focused on keeping Cooper in a comfortable state while the tests were done, and keeping him surrounded by family. Kinley met her little brother and lovingly kissed him, stared at him and stroked his beautiful blonde hair like the perfect big sister we knew she would be. The conversations with her about why her brother can't come home have been difficult but she will always know Cooper was her little brother and he's watching over her in heaven. We spent as many minutes as we could at his side memorizing his face and scent and making sure he felt how loved he was, even in such a short time. When it came time to make the difficult decision to let Cooper be free of suffering and go on to a better place, we did so knowing it was what was best for him. We spent our last evening with him taking as many pictures as we could with him before removing all the medical devices that were keeping him alive. To our amazement, Cooper had a gift in store for us. Though doctors predicted he might last an hour or two, we took him to a private bedroom in the NICU away from all things "hospital" and he gave us a whole night of peaceful cuddles with his mom and dad. We played music and sang to him and told him he could go whenever he was ready. Cooper left around 10:15 the next morning and we said goodbye knowing our lives were forever changed. In his short week on Earth he has taught us so much about love and strength and family. We know there was great purpose for his life and Cooper will never be forgotten. He was the most precious little blond-haired newborn we've ever seen and he will always be in the hearts of our whole family.
April 6, 2017 - April 12, 2017
It is with great sadness that I am requesting your support in honouring the life of Cooper Dubé. Dave and Amanda are already so moved by the outpouring of kind words and offers of support. If anyone feels inclined to help further, I know they are facing some unexpected finacial stresses that come with tragedy. In order to relieve them of some of these burdens and help their road to recovery, donations to this wonderful and deserving family are appreciated.
Thank you for considering.
Words from the family:
When we found out we were expecting a little boy we were all overjoyed. It didn't take long before we had settled on the perfect name for our final puzzle piece and began getting everything prepared for Cooper's arrival. Big sister books for Kinley, the letters of Cooper's name for his wall, and more clothes than you could ever imagine in his freshly painted dresser and hanging in his closet. A very smooth pregnancy in comparison to our scary experience with Kinley left us feeling calm, confident and excited. It wasn't until 34 weeks along when an ultrasound done to check on high fluid showed potential red flags. The next 4 weeks were a blur of worry, Googling, meetings, and more ultrasounds, but ultimately we continued to stay positive and trust that our little boy would be okay. Though we were warned of potential genetic disorders (nothing specific) which could have frightening outcomes, we were also reassured that it could also just be a positional issue which would mean some physical therapy, braces or worst case need a few surgeries. We took comfort in our perfect 20 week anatomy scan and reassured each other that it would likely be no big deal and just a silly scare that we would all look back on and sigh. We came to the hospital, bags packed for cooper, nervous but mostly just excited to meet him. The c-section went perfectly smooth, and we held our breath until we finally heard the cry from the other room where the NICU team had quickly taken him to. It was immediately clear to the team, and later to us when we finally met him, that this was not going to be the perfect scenario we had planned and prayed for. Cooper's arms and legs had several "contractions" (fixed in flexed or extended positions), and he had almost no muscle tone. He didn't open his eyes or move at all. He needed support breathing right away and also had no gag reflux or ability to swallow. His tiny, underdeveloped bones had suffered fractures, and he also had a dislocated hip. The next 2 days felt like 2 years as we waited for answers, none of which were the ones we wanted. We still don't know the exact reason this happened, though doctors are confident in their diagnosis of a rare genetic disorder called Pena Shokeir which only has 100 known cases. The doctors reassure us that it was nothing we did or didn't do and that it was a strike of lightning bad luck. We focused on keeping Cooper in a comfortable state while the tests were done, and keeping him surrounded by family. Kinley met her little brother and lovingly kissed him, stared at him and stroked his beautiful blonde hair like the perfect big sister we knew she would be. The conversations with her about why her brother can't come home have been difficult but she will always know Cooper was her little brother and he's watching over her in heaven. We spent as many minutes as we could at his side memorizing his face and scent and making sure he felt how loved he was, even in such a short time. When it came time to make the difficult decision to let Cooper be free of suffering and go on to a better place, we did so knowing it was what was best for him. We spent our last evening with him taking as many pictures as we could with him before removing all the medical devices that were keeping him alive. To our amazement, Cooper had a gift in store for us. Though doctors predicted he might last an hour or two, we took him to a private bedroom in the NICU away from all things "hospital" and he gave us a whole night of peaceful cuddles with his mom and dad. We played music and sang to him and told him he could go whenever he was ready. Cooper left around 10:15 the next morning and we said goodbye knowing our lives were forever changed. In his short week on Earth he has taught us so much about love and strength and family. We know there was great purpose for his life and Cooper will never be forgotten. He was the most precious little blond-haired newborn we've ever seen and he will always be in the hearts of our whole family.
Organizer and beneficiary
Laura Longo
Organizer
Ancaster, ON
Amanda Dube
Beneficiary
