What now?

For four weeks I have struggled with one recurring, nagging question...what now???
When you're expecting a baby that becomes the primary focus in your life. You try to eat the right things, rest enough, endure discomfort, illness and fatigue, all with one final goal in mind. I can tolerate gaining weight, stretch marks, aches, pains, nausea, all because I know it is worth it. That snuggled, sweet smelling bundle of joy that rests on your chest at the end of nine long months is completely and totally worth every discomfort and sacrifice you make during pregnancy.
But what do you do when you've endured the unpleasantries, survived the crucial first trimester and then, in the blink of an eye, it's over. Your body has betrayed you and there is no softly breathing, warm cuddly baby to make all those not so pleasant moments just disappear?
My experience (which we'll discuss in more detail later) was, in one word, awful. There is never a "good" part of losing the baby you had hoped for, dreamed of, carried close to your heart, but there are ways to make it a little more bearable. Unfortunately, for Brett and I, none of those things happened. 
As I have laid awake countless hours at night, sat mindlessly at my boys football practices, drove around town doing the errands I now hate but can't avoid, that one questions keeps haunting me...what now?
I have come to the conclusion that I must share our story. I must be brutally honest, leave no stone unturned, I must yell from the mountaintops (or a blog) until our story is heard. I will not allow Presley's birth and death to be in vain. I will not sit by quietly while one more family suffers the same experience. I will advocate for infant loss families with every bit of my strength. 
If hearing our story makes you uncomfortable, it should. If you are appalled, frustrated, dismayed, allow that to spark in you the desire to promote change. Doctors are supposed to be trusted. Hospitals are supposed to provide safety and healing. Our loss has proven that unfortunately, that's not always the way it works.
I have made an effort to seek legal advice, reach out to patient advocates, file complaints with the medical board; at every turn, I am met with avoidance and dead ends. So I will take to blogging, because my voice must be heard. Please know that I am not motivated by anger and bitterness, but by an overwhelming desire to educate and advocate for others who may have to walk this same, tragic road.