I want to thank you for taking time out of your day to read this.
I am a mother of three and a grandmother of two, and have two daughters.
I have never been to the hospital before, but as soon as I saw the first sign of my daughter’s head swelling and her breathing was labored, I knew something was wrong.
I ran to the car, jumped in, and called 911.
I was shocked to find the doctors were treating the girl in her crib with no oxygen.
I knew they were trying to save her life.
As soon as they started giving her oxygen, she started to die.
I did not understand how this could be happening, but I kept pushing for help and eventually I was referred to the emergency department at University Hospital Cork.
They told me she was going to die, that she had a brain haemorrhage.
The next day, the doctor I was talking to said I could not see the girl at all, and that she would have to be put into intensive care.
She told me the doctors did not know if she had survived.
I cried that night.
My daughter was not dead.
I went home to the family that was living with me and told them I was done crying.
I started to write a blog about the experience, and the following year, I was approached by the parents of a woman in my same situation.
I asked her why she had not spoken to me and was told that she was afraid I would say something wrong.
My son, who was at school at the time, was at home, and he told me he would not be able to tell anyone because he was afraid of what I would write.
I said I wanted to be the one to speak to her parents and I would call them on Monday.
The following day, my son was at his office, and when I asked him what happened, he said that he had seen a police car and thought it was a police officer.
He said that I was trying to hurt her and that I had no idea how to tell the police.
I had to explain that the girl was in a critical condition and was in the intensive care unit, which was where she would be for the next four days.
I called her a few times the next day and was informed that she needed oxygen to breathe.
At that time, I did my best to try and reassure her and explain what I had been through, but she did not want to talk to me.
I told her that it was her problem, and she was right to feel scared and distressed.
I felt that I did a great disservice to her.
I know she would not have survived the ordeal, but for her to be told that I would not speak to anyone because I was scared and that the parents were afraid was a terrible thing to say.
I should have said that my child was in critical condition.
It was a very difficult moment for me.
The doctor at University was the one that gave me the information that my daughter had been in the hospital.
I wanted the parents to know that my words were not meant to hurt them.
I also wanted to say that I am sorry that I hurt her.
The parents of the two girls in my care did not speak with me.
As I wrote about in the blog, I have had to be very careful about what I write in this blog, and I am trying to keep my emotions in check.
I cannot do this job alone, and to be honest, I do not know how I would do it if I did.
It is difficult to speak publicly about what happens when you lose a child in your care.
I feel as though I have to live with the pain, and as a result, I can’t express it to the public.
It can be a very isolating experience, but there are so many positive things that come out of this blog.
I want everyone to know what it’s like to have to tell a grieving parent, and if you have any questions, please feel free to email me.