We received a copy of the final autopsy report by fax today. The conclusion:
Although no definite cause of death was identified, the overall findings are suspicious for an umbilical cord accident.
I seem to be oscillating between the following reactions:
a) A CORD ACCIDENT!!! A FUCKING CORD ACCIDENT!!! YOU FUCKING NEGLIGENT DOCTORS!!! I went to the hospital reporting decreased fetal movement and you left me sitting in waiting rooms for EIGHT hours, without so much as monitoring my baby, and when you did finally pay attention to me you wasted precious time hypothesizing over all sorts of random causes for her lack of movement, completely ignoring the most obvious, and all the while my baby was suffocating to death!!! I TRUSTED YOU!!! I TRUSTED YOU WITH THAT WHICH WAS MOST PRECIOUS TO ME. I did everything right and YOU, YOU WHO WERE SUPPOSED TO SAVE HER LIFE, YOU LET HER DIE.
and
b) a cord accident. Phew! Totally random. Not likely to recur. I feel lighter. My body didn't fail her. I didn't fail her. I'm ready to try again.
***
I have yet to let my mind wonder back to the full events of that fateful day, but one moment is now replaying over and over in my mind. I am sitting with Tim in the waiting room of the High Risk Specialist's office in the hospital. It's warm and dimly lit. The grime on the windows is filtering the sunlight and there are spiders on the glass. The 1970s vinyl chair is making my ass numb. My eyes are fixed on the grungy linoleum floor, but I am distinctly aware of the birth announcements covering the wall to my left - precious little newborn faces staring at me while I advert my gaze. And then, THUMP, she kicked. A single, HARD kick. "She moved", I say. I smile at Tim. "She moved!". I poke her. I will her to move again. She's still. I put my hand on my belly and burn the memory of that kick into my mind, just in case. Then I look at the wall, at all the precious little faces. I imagine her picture on the wall.
She kicked in her struggle for life. She was dying, slowly. She was still alive. If only...
***
We have a meeting at the hospital on Thursday to review the report with the doctors. I think it will be the last time I see THOSE doctors at THAT hospital.
Dear Doctor,
5 years ago
Oh, I hear you on the hospital stuff. I had the same exact responses when we got Hope's autopsy results. Yes it was random and unlikely to occur again but fuck, it was also totally preventable, if someone bothered to really LISTEN to me.
ReplyDeleteThis is a replay of what we experienced right after we lost Akul... nothing is wrong but strictures in the cord suggest that perjaps his cord was twisted so he was a small baby... there is a slim to none chance of this happening again ... your baby is moving you just don't feel it because he has grown... look at him breathe.. he is fine ...hear is cry ...he is fine you will take him home when we fatten him a little...a fiesty young one isn't he and then... your baby had a brain bleed...we have to get him off all life support now..sorry.. yes you can hold him ...put him skin on skin ..let him die in your arms but he needs to die ....I want to use every cuss word I have never used before because what worse could happen to me?
ReplyDeleteOMG. This post made my heart pound. My hands are shaking and I am thinking, "How?" "How in the world did they just sit around and talk about it without doing anything?". I'm so sorry. Yeah great it probably won't happen again, because it's already happened. I would yell and scream and curse and ask questions and hound those doctors until you had more answers, or at least some acknowledgement of responsibility. I know it won't bring Isla back, but dammit maybe if their eyes are opened just a little bit, they'll think twice before letting another woman sit waiting for eight hours while her baby's oxygen is being cut off. Hugging you
ReplyDeletethis makes my heart pound too. some days i am sure this wont happen again.. but some days, i am sure i will lose the next one too.
ReplyDeleteit's exhausting.
I know the need to look for someone to blame all too well. Maybe I'm not the best person to listen to right now as I am in an 'anger' stage right now. But in this case I think the blame is wholly justified - they let you sit for eight hours while they pondered over their medical books?! They must surely know from experience how fast a pregnancy can change from life to death?!? Madness, utter madness. If you have the strength Mama you must fight them, scream shout and curse at them - whatever it takes to open their eyes to what they have done. Take comfort from the fact it was random and highly unlikely to happen again. But take strength from the anger that they didn't listen to you and failed to act for you and Isla. I don't expect them to be miracle workers but I expect them to be competent.
ReplyDeleteLots of love to you
xxxxxx
I have no words, just such deep sorrow mixed with anger for all of us whose babies likely died because of cord accidents. So random, as you said, but so very unfair. I'm so sorry that the hospital staff didn't listen to your instinct and observations. (((Hugs)))
ReplyDeleteI can't believe it. I just want to hit those doctors. I am so sorry for the treatment that you received. ((HUGS))
ReplyDeleteI hurt for you. The what ifs are the worst. They absolutely plague you. You wonder why the doctors never take you seriously. They have no idea of the pain there actions will cause. You are in my prayers. Be strong. You daughter is absolutely beautiful. I am so sorry.
ReplyDeleteKaty
hannahshonor.blogspot.com
Hi,
ReplyDeleteI just came on your blog-and wow you sure have your shit togehter for being 13 weeks out. I read a few of your last posts and it is all familiar. Though it has been 3 years since our son was born and died two days later it is all so familiar. Though it is not a consolation know it does get harder before it gets easier and many people do not know how to deal with death and grief-especially with babies. We experienced medical neglience aswell and the anger was big and strong for a long long time. Do what ever you have to do to get to a point where you can let that part go. You are a mommy and it is your job to fight for your child-8 hours in the waiting room is way below the standard of care. You should have been on fetal monitor immediately, ultrasound etc. WTF! Go get them momma. Hang in there you are so early in your grief for all of my friends in town who have lost babies (the deranged mommy club) 4 months was the hardest. I wish I could come to your house and have a cup of coffee with you and talk to you about Isla-read www.glowinthewoods best mommy lost web site.
I can't believe it!!! 8 hours??????? I am so so very sorry for your loss. Sending lots of love.
ReplyDeleteI just found your blog and it resonates so much with me, even though I didn't get to go as far as you did (miscarriage at nine weeks, didn't find out till the 14th week).
ReplyDeletePlease continue to write, show us how to keep going, because I'm not sure either.
**big hugs**
I am so sorry. I'm so sorry that we share the same pain of losing a child. I lost my twin sons in Jan of this year and it was indeed my body that failed me. I do however remember feeling that last kick before they were forced to be born.
ReplyDeleteYour daughter is beautiful. Isla was one of our top choices for names if we were having twin girls.
Please feel free to stop by or even email if you need to vent.
*hugs*
Just checking in to see how you are. Thinking of you and your Isla, over there on the other side of this country. (((Hugs)))
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry. The rage and the devastation and the bit of hope can all collide in such a strange way, can't they?
ReplyDeleteThank you for your recent comment on my blog.
I'm just so sorry that Isla isn't here with you. She was so beautiful - what an incredible thing to have such amazing pictures.
Oh dear, I am so sorry that your doctors and hospital were such idiots! Are you suing them because I would! That is ridiculous! Hoping that your Thanksgiving today was happy and peaceful, HUGS!
ReplyDeleteThinking of you and Isla today. xo
ReplyDelete