Hello. I am a 25yo female who has been married for 6 years and has 2 healthy, beautiful children. I should, however, have at least 3 children. Let me explain.
When I was 18yo, I became pregnant with twins. Not a great thing, I know, but it happened. It was in November of 1997 that I found out that I was pregnant. I had complications in December 1997, so I went to Southside Community Hospital's emergency room. This is when it was discovered that I was pregnant with twins. Despite the bleeding and stomach pains, the staff there told me everything was fine, and I could go home.
Everything was fine, for a while. Then, around February 10,1998, I woke up with blood all on me, and having stomach pains. I was taken to Southside Community Hospital's emergency room once again. After about a three hour wait, a nurse finally peaked her head into the exam room I was in. Another half hour passed before the doctor came into my room and ordered tests, including an ultrasound.
After the ultrasound, I was admitted into the hospital. I was in my room for a while, when Dr. Turner, an area OB/GYN came in. He explained to me that it appeared as if I had lost one of my twins. He wanted to send me to MCV, Medical College of Virginia, because they have much better technology and more staff. However, I had put Dr. Agee as my OB/GYN, so he had to get the OK from Dr. Agee first.
Dr. Turner waited with me until Dr. Agee arrived. Dr. Agee came in, felt my abdomen, and said that I did not need to be transferred (for which he charged me $900 to do). I was then told I'd be discharged from the hospital. The hospital ended up kicking me out of my room before my ride even arrived and made me sit in the lobby for hours. Their reason for making me stay was because it was policy that I could not leave by myself.
The very next day, my stomach pains grew stronger, so I went back to the hospital. I was told nothing was wrong. This happened for days; I'd go in, they would say nothing is wrong and to go home. Until the morning of February 15,1998.
I went in to the hospital, they took me up to the maternity ward. A woman examined my cervix. Then she listened to my unborn son's heartbeat. She asked me if I wanted to hear his heartbeat. I said yes. As I was listening she was talking about how strong and healthy his heartbeat was. Then she told me...
"I'm sorry, you're losing him... Go home... Come back after you lose him..."
As I lay there starting to cry, all I could think was... WTF!!??
According to her, hospital policy was that miscarriage was not grounds to admit a patient.
"Oh, so it's not because I have no insurance?"
"No, we treat all patients equally..."
Yeah, right!!! Wtf ever!!!
(NOTE: At the time I had no insurance and no money because I had been put on bedrest after the episode in December.)
Ok, so I go home given no other choice. I was afterall only 18yo, not exactly the brightest most worldly individual; I only wish I knew then what I know now.
At home the contractions only get worse and worse. I was told not to take anything just in case the hospital had to give me something. My mother felt so bad because she couldn't do anything to help the pain, which was amplified by the knowledge that after all this, I would not even have my baby to take care of.
When I vomitted, my mother called 911. While she was on the phone, I felt like I had to use the restroom. Even then I was a very prideful person who would not dare urinate on myself, even in the state I was in. I made it to the bathroom.
All I know is my mother heard me screaming...
"My baby!"
"My baby!"
She said she walked in to find me holding my son.
I went into shock.
The next thing I remember is being in the ambulance with the emts around me.
I arrived at the hospital, where I again waited in the exam room for a long time. Then doctor arrived, did what he needed and left.
I held my son for the last time at the hospital. Little did I know it would be the last time I would ever know where his body was.
Since I wasn't at the 24 week cut off in which the hospital would automatically have to release the remains to be buried, I asked the nurses. I told them I wanted my son's remains released to me because of my beliefs... A soul could not rest unless its body is properly laid to rest. The night shift nurses told me to call the head nurse first thing in the morning, which I did.
I was told by the head nurse to call Dr. Nash in pathology, which I did. Dr. Nash told me he hadn't heard of a Baby Boy Langlois coming in there.
Oh, he hadn't? So why did I receive a bill from him a few weeks later?
Long story short, because of this hospital I do not have my son, or even a grave to visit him at. The first twin I lost was apparently VERY under developed and would have had life-long problems IF it had even been born, but no one has ever told me why I lost my son. As far as they could tell he was healthy. I was simply contracting. *FYI There are drugs to stop contractions.
They told me that they did not treat me any different than they would someone with insurance, so how come after I married my husband and had VERY good insurance and was forced once again to go there to deliver my first daughter, they treated me like gold. Heck, they wanted to keep me in there longer than the standard 48 hours vaginal delivery allows with no complications.
And to this day, I do not know where my son's body is. To this day, I think, what if... To this day I cry about the son I lost.
0 comments