Brett and I have had several conversations about the fact that if we hadn't experienced complications and lost our baby, we probably would have been more than happy with the doctor we chose. He was always cheerful and answered our questions, he seemed very positive and upbeat. He certainly appeared to enjoy the pleasant part of his job. Who couldn't truly love ushering new babies into the world and sharing in the joy of their parents hundreds, thousands of times throughout a career? But what about the dark side of that job? If a doctor is so detached from the people he cares for can he really provide the best possible care? It's downright scary that he felt no need to physically examine me or conduct an ultrasound at my follow up visit. It leaves me feeling as if he just doesn't want to deal with that side of obstetrics and that makes me scared for every other woman in his care.
Once we realized the seriousness of what was "missed" after my delivery with Presley, it was hard to know who held the blame. The hospital likely should have been more thorough and my doctor certainly should have caught it (had he bothered to even check). My concern for others in the care of this hospital and doctors led to my decision to seek legal counsel. I in no way was financially motivated, no amount of money will bring my daughter back or change our experience, but maybe legal action would bring our concerns to light and spare another family the same experience.
Little did I know, this would be another very painful step of our journey. I was referred to a wonderful malpractice attorney who took his time discussing the details of our case and truly wanted to help. Unfortunately, the laws in the state of Arizona make it nearly impossible to present a case of this nature. We absolutely cannot file a suit regarding the death of our baby because it isn't legally considered a death. We cannot pursue a case regarding my after care, because it did not (thankfully) result in death or dismemberment.
After discussing all of this, I was left wondering again, what to do next.
I had placed a handful of phone calls to the hospital and attempted to obtain email addresses for leadership of the departments that were involved in my care, but met a lot of resistance and dead ends.
I finally made the decision to simply submit a very detailed "review" of my care through the hospital website. This was supposed to be a place for patients to brag about their wonderful, healing experiences. I typed away and poured out my heart, hit send and waited...two weeks went by and I assumed it was disregarded. Last week, I received a phone call from a woman with the hospital whom was in tears when she heard my voice. She was thanking me for my letter and apologizing profusely for our treatment. We talked for nearly thirty minutes and agreed that there is definitely room for a review of policies and procedures as well as some education. My letter has been forwarded on to leadership in the emergency and OB departments. A charge nurse from the ER has already called me personally to discuss the breakdown in my care and I am hoping this will all culminate with a face to face meeting with several members of their staff.
Where this all will lead I'm not sure. But it only solidifies my desire to advocate for those that will come after me. In this world of loss and heartache lies a gift. The opportunity to see things in a different light. The whole "everything happens for a reason" cliche is not something I hold true. However, I believe that in every situation there is opportunity. I do not want my love for Presley to go unnoticed, I do not want her brief time with me to go to waste. I am praying that God will open doors and pave the way for something beautiful to come from the ashes.
"...and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crownof beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair."
Isaiah 61:3
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