Who says it time to move on?
by Latchia Johnson
Date: Tue, 13 Jun 2000
I have had the hardest time moving on since my son was born still born at 6 months. My best friend sent me an email with your website and told me that she couldn't understand my pain but she had found some people who could. I honestly thought she had found some therapist and I was going to tell her been there, done that. I called her and yelled because I couldn't understand why she would add to my hurt but now I think I do.
It all started February 16, 1999. I was having dinner with my usual bunch of friends and couldn't understand why Wednesdays' stuffed halibut wouldn't go down. I threw up all over the table and said to my friend, "hell I haven't had a period in awhile." We both laughed because several years prior to that I was told that it would be a frosty day in hell before I could ever get pregnant. My physicians felt that I had been through too much in my lifetime (medically) to get pregnant.
So my friend and I go back to my dorm room with the intentions of going to the pharmacy at the grocery store and getting a pregnancy test. I failed to mention that I was in my senior year of college and a resident assistant. Wendy and I snuck the tests in my room and I take them. I didn't have to wait the two minutes advised on the package because immediately the minus on one test turned into a plus and the pink line on another test turned into a blue line. I had Wendy go buy more tests and we decided that I should take them in the morning. The next morning came and I ended up taking four more tests and all of them immediately turned positive!
I was so afraid in one respect and in another overjoyed beyond belief. It was ironic that just two weeks prior I had screamed my head off at my 18 year old sister for getting pregnant. She was five months pregnant before anyone in our family knew anything.
After I told my now husband and our families life appeared to be good. Of course I had morning sickness all day (even got salmonella poisoning) but things where going well. I even had a plan for finishing school on time. The doctor that I had was recommended to me by someone that I trusted with my life, he had delivered her three children. He was the worse thing this side of hell. He treated me like I was nothing because I was a student and hadn't finished school yet.
I went in on June 4, 1999 for my regular check up and he said that my blood pressure was really high so he prescribed some medication, and he wanted me to have another ultrasound immediately. I didn't think anything of it because I was extremely active hours before my appointment. I went back the next week and he told me to go home (I was taking summer school) and find a doctor here. I came home June 11, 1999. I found a doctor but by the time the HMO approved her my blood pressure was 210/190. I didn't know what was going on. I was sent from hospital to hospital until I finally ended up at John Hopkins Hospital where I was diagnosed as suffering from severe eclampsia. I felt fine but finally someone told me that it was going to be either me or my son. My husband had to make the choice because I was in no state to make any decisions.
June 30, 1999 2:45 a.m. I gave birth to Malcolm Raymond Johnson, 15 ounces and 11 inches. I was so heavily medicated that I didn't realize that the umbilical cord had wrapped around his neck and his was born dead.
It has almost been a year and about $20,000 in therapy costs and I still feel like it was yesterday. I know my husband mourns but it's not the same. I talked to Malcolm from the day I knew he existed. My friends and family say it's time to move on but who says so? The pain is too fresh. Thank you for letting me share my story.
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