I am writing to you because recently I have gone through a loss.
I have now experienced my very first pregnancy and like most mothers I thought about it constantly. Everything from beginning to end seemed so perfect. My doctor was so please with the way my son was growing, and commended me many times on the way I was taking care of myself and my unborn child. I never thought it would happen to me. I was 26 weeks pregnant, planning my baby shower for this April, because I wanted it to be a huge celebration. I was having my grandmothers very first great grandson. On my mother's side of the family everyone seems to only be able to have girls. I didn't notice my baby kick any on January 19th...January 20th I had a doctors appointment. I asked my doctor if I can get an ultrasound because I didn't personally hear a heartbeat, but the doctor told me that everything was fine because he heard a whoosh whoosh sound. I know now, it was the water he was listening to. Because my doctor said everything was fine, I trusted him and I felt that maybe my son was just in a position where I wouldn't feel his movement. On January 28th at 1 am I went to the hospital because my left breast was hurting, and that morning I found out my baby had no heartbeat. I was devastated. So eager to have my baby with me, and I had to find out this way that day would never come. With my family and few friends by my side, I delivered Dillon X. Brown stillborn on January 28th, 2005 at 10:20pm.
I had to hold my son, didn't want him to go without me feeling him in my arms atleast once. I didn't cry at the hospital, I was just grateful for the opportunity to spend as much time as I could with him. I looked at my son, and from what the doctors told me he was dead in my womb for a week or more, and I kind of knew it. My husband and I, and family members took an album full of photos of us all posing in pictures with him. I still think that maybe if I went to the hospital the day I felt him stop kicking he may have survive...but, I couldn't imagine how much more painful it wouldv'e been to have a tiny premature baby with a lot of tubes attached to them, thinking that they can die anytime after all of that. Or even the problems he could have physically later on in life. Though I wish he was here, healthy and happy I am at peace now with the way he left the world...looking so peaceful at sleep, clean and without sin. I bonded with my baby for 7 months and at time it felt like for nothing. But I realized it was definitely for something. I think everything happens for a reason, my son was sent here for a little while to teach me something, and he served his purpose and left. I am grateful that the nurses brought him up from the morgue all the days that I was in the hospital so I can spend a few hours with him each day. The staff at the hospital were all so nice and understanding. I am grateful that they spent time talking to and consoling me, and sharing the stories of their own losses. I am glad that he lived as long as he did so that I was able to have a proper funeral, and burial for him. Everyone has been pressuring me to take action against the clinic doctor because of his negligence but emotionally I cannot do it for the reason that it will not bring my son back. I'm just glad he was my son, and like many other babies who aren't given a chance on earth, Dillon was too good for the world so God handpicked him to be an angel. Take care of yourselves everyone and thank those of you who emailed me to show support.
Sincerely With Love,