Hopefully, this thread doesn't bother anyone, but today is sucha bad day for me and I just need...hell, I don't even know...I just don't want to feel so alone...
Today's the day that my hijito lindo, my beautiful little baby boy would have been 4 years old. I think it's just not fair. There's always so much crap on the news about babies being abandoned even killed, I just can't stop asking why MY baby?
We Had picked the name Carlos Alfonso for him. When I was younger I dreamed of having this huge family. My ex really wasn't to into the idea. He had just come back a few months earlier, after immigration had kicked him out of the country. When I found out I was pregnant it seemed like my life was finally complete. My daughter was really excited too. Since she could talk she would ask for a baby brother. People would say "Martina, do you want some candy?" and she'd reply, "No, I want a baby brother" Everyone would laugh over that one. Well, she was finally getting her baby brother and she was so excited. She'd go with me to all my appointments and after a while, she'd be explaining the sonos to the technician. She had one of her favorite stuffed bunnies from when she was a baby to give to him and she even helped me set up the crib. She'd come and start singing to my belly and give it little chitos and the baby would always respond to her. Well right before my baby was to be born, at 42 and a half weeks they sent me for a sono. He was a healthy active baby boy. Already being 2 and a half weeks late, they advised me they'd have to induce if I wanted to deliver naturally. They suggested though that I do a c-section, cause the baby apeared to be at least 9 and a half lbs. and they said it would be a hard delivery and his shoulder might get dislocated. I tend to bleed, so opted for the normal delivery.
The day finally came...March 30, 2005. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had to go in early morning to be induced. It was pouring, downright miserable. My ex was bringing me to the hospital and my daughter was in the back. I planned on delivering without anyone there, My ex cuñadas had made too much drama, so I didn't want them there and eveyone in my family was too scared to go. I was ok with just the nurse though. Contractions started at 10 am and by 1 they sent me to the delivery room. My sister stopped in to check on me and wound up staying. By 3:30 pm I was ready to push. At one point the doctor told me not to push, the cord was wrapped around his neck. So, I stopped pushing while they unwrapped the cord. I breathed a sigh of relief and then realized things were too quiet. My baby wasn't crying, nor would I ever get the chance to hear him cry. Doctors and nurses from all over the hospital worked on him more than 20 min. and they just couldn't revive him. It was like an episode of ER with all the codes being called and I felt so helpless lying there not being able to do anything. The only thing I did was prayed. Then the doctor came over to me and told me. He could hardly say it. At first he said "Your baby's dying" and for a second I thought ok he's still alive, there's a chance. Then the doctor cleared his thraot and said "Your baby is dead" My eyes were the only dry ones in the room. I was just so numb while inside part of me had gone dead and another part just wanted to start screaming. But I was afraid if I reacted like that they stick me in the psych ward and I knew I wanted to be with my daughter. I got to hold my son for a while and we took some pictures. People stayed on and off with my daughter, I didn't want her to get scared. The hospital gave me some momentos- a lock of his hair, a footprint and any clothes they had put on him. Some people think it's kind of morbid but it's all I have of him. They moved me from a shared room to a private room, but it was still so hard. I was still in the maternity ward, listening to the other families celebrating and all the babies crying. I just wanted to get home to my daughter. Telling her was one of the hardest things I had to to. It wasn't until later that evening when I had some time alone with her to tell her her brother was never coming home. And even though she was only 4 she knew, she understood. She later told me she had gone in the room looking in his crib and from seeing me crying she knew something was wrong. She also said she was mad at me for not letting her have seen him. Nightmares followed. Waking up in the middle of the night, holding his blanket, crying mi hijito tiene frio, my baby's cold, even worse when we had to bury him. I truly believe his pure innocent little soul is up in heaven, but that little body, I carried inside me for almost 10 months.
I'm sorry if I've bothered anyone with this but I just needed to talk about it and it's easier for my friends and family to act like he never existed. I know maybe this isn't the place for this, but you all seem so great and you never fail to make me laugh.
Today's the day that my hijito lindo, my beautiful little baby boy would have been 4 years old. I think it's just not fair. There's always so much crap on the news about babies being abandoned even killed, I just can't stop asking why MY baby?
We Had picked the name Carlos Alfonso for him. When I was younger I dreamed of having this huge family. My ex really wasn't to into the idea. He had just come back a few months earlier, after immigration had kicked him out of the country. When I found out I was pregnant it seemed like my life was finally complete. My daughter was really excited too. Since she could talk she would ask for a baby brother. People would say "Martina, do you want some candy?" and she'd reply, "No, I want a baby brother" Everyone would laugh over that one. Well, she was finally getting her baby brother and she was so excited. She'd go with me to all my appointments and after a while, she'd be explaining the sonos to the technician. She had one of her favorite stuffed bunnies from when she was a baby to give to him and she even helped me set up the crib. She'd come and start singing to my belly and give it little chitos and the baby would always respond to her. Well right before my baby was to be born, at 42 and a half weeks they sent me for a sono. He was a healthy active baby boy. Already being 2 and a half weeks late, they advised me they'd have to induce if I wanted to deliver naturally. They suggested though that I do a c-section, cause the baby apeared to be at least 9 and a half lbs. and they said it would be a hard delivery and his shoulder might get dislocated. I tend to bleed, so opted for the normal delivery.
The day finally came...March 30, 2005. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had to go in early morning to be induced. It was pouring, downright miserable. My ex was bringing me to the hospital and my daughter was in the back. I planned on delivering without anyone there, My ex cuñadas had made too much drama, so I didn't want them there and eveyone in my family was too scared to go. I was ok with just the nurse though. Contractions started at 10 am and by 1 they sent me to the delivery room. My sister stopped in to check on me and wound up staying. By 3:30 pm I was ready to push. At one point the doctor told me not to push, the cord was wrapped around his neck. So, I stopped pushing while they unwrapped the cord. I breathed a sigh of relief and then realized things were too quiet. My baby wasn't crying, nor would I ever get the chance to hear him cry. Doctors and nurses from all over the hospital worked on him more than 20 min. and they just couldn't revive him. It was like an episode of ER with all the codes being called and I felt so helpless lying there not being able to do anything. The only thing I did was prayed. Then the doctor came over to me and told me. He could hardly say it. At first he said "Your baby's dying" and for a second I thought ok he's still alive, there's a chance. Then the doctor cleared his thraot and said "Your baby is dead" My eyes were the only dry ones in the room. I was just so numb while inside part of me had gone dead and another part just wanted to start screaming. But I was afraid if I reacted like that they stick me in the psych ward and I knew I wanted to be with my daughter. I got to hold my son for a while and we took some pictures. People stayed on and off with my daughter, I didn't want her to get scared. The hospital gave me some momentos- a lock of his hair, a footprint and any clothes they had put on him. Some people think it's kind of morbid but it's all I have of him. They moved me from a shared room to a private room, but it was still so hard. I was still in the maternity ward, listening to the other families celebrating and all the babies crying. I just wanted to get home to my daughter. Telling her was one of the hardest things I had to to. It wasn't until later that evening when I had some time alone with her to tell her her brother was never coming home. And even though she was only 4 she knew, she understood. She later told me she had gone in the room looking in his crib and from seeing me crying she knew something was wrong. She also said she was mad at me for not letting her have seen him. Nightmares followed. Waking up in the middle of the night, holding his blanket, crying mi hijito tiene frio, my baby's cold, even worse when we had to bury him. I truly believe his pure innocent little soul is up in heaven, but that little body, I carried inside me for almost 10 months.
I'm sorry if I've bothered anyone with this but I just needed to talk about it and it's easier for my friends and family to act like he never existed. I know maybe this isn't the place for this, but you all seem so great and you never fail to make me laugh.
