Our story started two years ago, on October 29, 2008. We were expecting a little girl that we decided to name Samantha Carolyn. The day before I felt my baby move. That night I was feeling very uncomfortable, my back was hurting and I had cramps. My doctor's appointment was at 8:30 am the following day. On my way to the visit I was on the phone with one of my sisters telling her how happy I was and much I was feeling that the baby was coming earlier than it was supposed to. My doctor found me a little tired that day, but we still thought that the big day was getting closer and the baby bigger. He took his Doppler and couldn't find a heartbeat. My mind didn't understand yet what was happening. He rapidly rushed to get an ultrasound machine and immediately looked for my unborn daughter. I was very happy to see her again...but I still didn't notice that there was not heartbeat. After a few seconds of contemplating her, I looked at my doctor's face, and found it to be odd in expression. His face changed dramatically and I was scared to ask what was wrong...But I did it. After all I thought, babies are safe inside of mommies bellies, nothing wrong can happen to them if they are healthy. While I was thinking this, he softly said to me: "there is not heartbeat, your baby has died". I got rid of all the gel and pulled my shirt down, all while telling him how wrong he was. "I felt her yesterday night..she moved...this is not possible." He immediately left the room and I called my husband. Unfortunately I couldn't reach him. I called my sister and I told her in an uneasy manner, not knowing what to think. "She died! the doctor is telling me that she died but it is not true!." I heard the panic on her voice and I thought: is this really happening? Am I telling her the correct things? I am supposed to be telling her that my baby girl is okay? Then, alone in that room, is when I started to cry...nobody was there to hold me...nobody was there to clean my tears. How lonely I felt! To this day, I can not yet remember how I got to the hospital. My last memory is of the phone waking me up with my dad on the other line. "Dad, all your life you wanted to tell me what to do and I never listened, now I give you the opportunity...just tell me what to do and I'll do it!" His reply was more than I could hope for: "Just hold God's hand and don't let him go..." My next and perhaps most painful memory of all was telling myself that with only with 34 weeks and 3 days of her being with me, I had to deliver my baby. At the beginning I didn't want to push..."she is not ready to come!" I kept pleading. Sometimes I would be excited, and sometimes I would be confused. I delivered my baby at 11:46pm on a Wednesday night. I couldn't believe how pretty she was. I held her hand, but she didn't hold mine...The room was silent, my doctor left without a word. I kissed my baby and I gave her to the nurse. I don't know at what time I woke up...I just know that after I opened my eyes I started crying. My baby was dead! My precious girl! The one that I dreamed about so many, many times. Where is everybody? Why isn't anybody helping me? Why was I felling so lonely? Why me? Why us? Why my baby?.
My beautiful baby died because of a placenta problem. She lost almost all her blood and they found it in mine.
Now, I have another beautiful baby girl that we named Victoria. Sometimes I think that I need her more than she needs me.
I look up and I think about my baby and I cry in silent...where are you? Do you remember me? Because I remember every single inch of your tiny body. I still can remember your smell, your tiny nose, the umbilical cord still attached to your tiny belly, your perfect lips your soft brown hair and your tiny little hands.
Inspired by Samantha and hoping that Victoria will get to know a little bit more about her sister, I decided to start this project. I make burial dresses for baby girls that have passed away. I wish I had the power to stop babies from passing away...but since I can not do it, I just want to give to the heartbroken parents what somebody gave me two years ago: a dress made with love and hope.