For ever in our hearts
Mike was born on 22 February 1993
and died on 22 February 1993
Donny and Priscilla where born on 4
February 1994 and died 4 February 1994
Jimmy and Ferry where born on 25
August 1994 and died 25 August 1994
My story about the immense
grief and the loss of our baby’s
We were so happy and proud with the
birth of our first baby, Nicky, on 12 January, 1989. It was the first step to a
big family, a wish I had from an early age. Just to be a mommy for all the
little critters. The pregnancy went without problems. I dreamed of a big family
not knowing what was ahead. It was with the second pregnancy that the problems
started. I’ll never forget that day and, still today, it feels the same. I was
23 weeks pregnant and my husband en Nicky were shopping for books to make the
birth cards, while I stayed at home. I was just resting and making a little
coat for the baby, when suddenly, I had a loss of blood. I went to the
neighbors in a panic. They called the midwife and she sent me to the clinic.
First, they had to take a sonogram and the result was horrible. They told me the
placenta was loose and the baby had died as a result. The delivery was a living
hell, and our boy Mike was dead born. His being still born didn’t sink through
until I went to the nursery and realized the little crib would stay empty. I
just went trough the ground.
In July of 1993 I got pregnant
again. We were so happy, but we were also very afraid. I was pregnant with
twins. My grandma is a twin and she said, “I will still get such an event in my
lifetime! My grandchild will have twins.”
This hadn’t happened to anyone in
the family. My pregnancy had been perfect, and I was 29 weeks and 3 days
pregnant, when I suddenly got stabbing pains in my lower back. I thought they
were early contractions, so went directly to the clinic. The nurse did here best
to reassure me, but I didn’t have a good feeling about it. She did a CTG that
looked good. Then, I laid there for one hour without seeing a doctor which was
not normal, considering my history. My husband saw the gynecologist who
delivered Mike and asked him if he should look into it. He replied that he had
looked at the CTG and everything looked all right and not to worry.
Then, the worst thing happened, and
I had a loss of blood again. It seemed my heart stopped as I thought, “OH, GOD!
NOT AGAIN!!” I took Nick with me, not imagining this was going to happen. He ran
through the corridors screaming, in search of his father for a doctor. Then, the
doctor came, (first time in one hour) but it was already too late. The babies
were dead. This was discovered on the sonogram they then made for the first
time. Again, it was the placenta that had broken loose.
I was mad with grief. We lost our
son and daughter and the delivery was horrible. I had so much loss of blood
that they feared for my life. Donny lay upside down and Priscilla across.
After the delivery, we had to make funeral arrangements, which made it even
harder. We dressed Donny and Priscilla ourselves and gave them each a little
teddy. The undertaker wanted to bury each of them separately in their own
coffins. He will never forget the way I looked at him, but I could have killed
him.
I said with tears in my eyes “It’s
enough that they have to be separated from us, that they don’t have to be
separated from each other. They were together inside of me and they stay
together forever”
I don’t remember much from the
funeral. I was just numb. I couldn’t stand on my legs, because I was so weak.
We did receive lots of support from family, friends and neighbors, and Nick and
my husband dragged me trough it. I knew I had to get on with my life, but many
times I looked to the sky and prayed to God, “How do I go on? How do I go about
it?”
Very soon after that I got pregnant
again. It wasn’t a planned pregnancy and it scared the hell out of me. I saw
people thinking, “Gerda, how can you be pregnant again?” I’m honest about that,
they were right. We were still recuperating from the loss of the kids, and now
I know you never recuperate from something like this. I learned it was twins
again. Sometimes, I had strange thoughts such as it was God returning them to
us. On a given moment you get courage out of everything, even for a moment,
because there was always the fear - an intense, deep down fear that was nearly
unbearable. I had to go for a routine sonogram and the gynecologist was making
a joke about me staying there. I was 22 weeks and they said that at 26 weeks I
had to stay at the clinic and they would do a Caesarian section at 32 weeks.
When he began the sonogram, he turned white as a sheet.
I asked, “Is there something wrong?”
He said, “Yes, I don’t see any
activity” History repeated itself for the third time. This time it wasn’t the
placenta that got loose but I lost two sons, Jimmy and Ferry. As they couldn’t
make out how it happened this time they wanted to do a post mortem. This
decision was very hard on us and I still feel the pain today. The result of the
analysis was that one of our boys had turned himself in the umbilical cord and
by doing this cut of the bloodflow of his brother and a lot more that I can’t
put into words. The one mourning process wasn’t over yet, and we were already in
a new one. I became deeply depressed. I locked myself in and hated life. It
felt like life hated me, too. Conversations with friends turned up useless. I
felt like a walking coffin and got phobias. I was mad, so mad! And the
powerlessness got me by the throat day in day out. I felt betrayed by
everything and everyone. Everything came up and then came the day we filed a
lawsuit against the clinic. I was terribly angry, and terribly sad. I looked
in the mirror and thought, if no one ever opens their mouth and speaks to the
wrongs committed in my case, nothing is going to change.
The entire episode with Donny
and Priscilla, where they left me for one hour without any doctor to look in, I
asked them a million times about that before I began with the case. To the one
who was walking in the hall and told my husband that everything was all right,
we asked why he didn’t come to my room to check my problems. He replied that he
wasn’t on call. HE WASN’T ON CALL!!! And, he said, “If I had gone in to help
you, the other gynecologist would have said, “Well, there’s the little
know-it-all again.”
I couldn’t believe what I just
heard!!!! I thought, “This can’t be true!! Is that a reason not to help a
patient? I don’t care what they say to each other, I should have gotten some
help. I couldn’t get rid of that feeling. I had lost so much. We deserved the
truth.
The case began in 1995, but
the doctor had the chance to admit that he was at fault without a lawyer. I
felt that I wasn’t heard and, there you are, with a feeling that you are
abandoned for the second time. My kids are dead, and no one told me the truth.
I felt abandoned by the doctors. They didn’t listen to us. In the procedure,
they blamed each other and washed there hands in innocence. The case took a lot
of energy, fighting spirit, grief and almost half of my life. All of it could
have been prevented by a doctor who didn’t want to look in, because he wasn’t on
call. Yet, he felt free to reassure my husband in the hall that there was no
problem. He also used the excuse that he didn’t recognize my husband. I didn’t
know that was a reason not to help a patient. He went to the delivery of
Mike!!!! I even went on routine checks at the joint practice of him and his
colleague for Donny and Priscilla.
I had nightmares from all
this, so lived day and night with all of it and I couldn’t mourn. I got sick
just thinking of it. While the case was going on I got pregnant again, I went
to a different clinic and, there, I met a gynecologist who I trusted the moment
I saw him and believed in me. He was my only doctor. No other doctors were
following up on me. I had so little trust in doctors, it took a huge effort for
me to trust this one.
I had a good pregnancy, but
the fear was unbelievable. I was encouraged by every little kick I felt, and I
kept on praying, not even knowing to what purpose. I had prayed so much before
and it didn’t help most of the times. All this time, the case of Donny and
Priscilla was going on, and I was confronted with everything that’s possible.
Fighting for the truth about ones dead children and being pregnant, filled with
fear that this baby could also die, I hung in there. It was about our children,
not a sack of sugar and the truth had to come out. It was 22 december 1998 and
I heard the answer THEY WERE WRONG The rules had to be changed to get the
nurses and doctors to handle acute situations differently. And, I heard
excuses, but the excuses and “I’m sorry” didn’t do anything for me anymore. We
knew that they were wrong in 1994 and so did the nurse and the doctor. To make
a patient undergo a procedure for 3 years in these conditions was inhuman.
I always started with the idea
that no one makes mistakes like this on purpose, but that it takes this lawsuit
for them to tell the truth. In my eyes, they are no longer doctors and nurses
but automobilists who commit hit and run. I was glad that everything came out.
I felt a mother through and through. We didn’t get anything from it, but maybe
other mothers would be helped and would not have to go through what we had to go
through. That’s the only thing that comforts me. The only thing that my husband
and I wanted was an explanation and the admission of the truth, but not after a
procedure of 3 years. I wanted justice, not money. I didn’t want our grief and
the right bought off with any money.
Then came The Beautiful Day!!!!
On 12 January, Nicky celebrated his
10th birthday and, on the 13th of January, after 38 frightful weeks, our son,
Jessey, was born. I had a good delivery and Nicky had a brother. We were so
happy, yet sad at the same time. I suffered from mixed emotions. I had a
wonderful time at the clinic, through the conversations I had and all the cards
I received. I saw how so many people sympathized with us. I was so very
grateful to them for that and still am. Even though we have two wonderful boys,
there will always be an emptiness in our hearts.
