My daughter was stillborn at 22 weeks after doctors dismissed the warning signs

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this guest post are solely those of the guest author.

Getting pregnant for some is easy but for me it was a hard long five years of trying, praying and dreaming. Within those five years I’ve taken at least 400 pregnancy tests. I’ve cried a million tears and said countless prayers. 

Just when I’d given up on my dreams of being a mother… just when I thought maybe it’s just not for me… just when I gave up on all the fertility medication, fertility herbs and fertility stones — on March 22, 2023, I decided to take a pregnancy test. One line…then two. I was beyond excited. 

I eagerly scheduled my “dating” appointment. They took blood, ran tests, and did an ultrasound. The baby was great, and so was I, until two weeks after my first appointment. I started to have light cramps that were followed by light spotting. I talked to my doctor and was reassured that it was just growing pains and it was nothing to be worried about. Throughout my pregnancy I’d been seen in the ER four times for cramps, bleeding or pressure like pains in my groin. I’d had five regular prenatal appointments where I voiced the pains that I was feeling. All the time I was reassured that it was just “growing pains.” That it was normal. I trusted the doctors.

Today, I wish I would have advocated more for myself and for my baby girl. I wish I would have asked more questions and questioned their answers. If I had, then maybe my daughter would still be here. 

We were preparing her nursery. She was loved by so many people. I had never felt this happy in my entire life. At night I would lay on my back and read her stories and talk with her. And there were times when I would push a little on my belly and she would kick that area as if she was playing a game with me. She had so much personality already. I loved my daughter and would do anything for her.

I trusted the doctors. But I was let down by them. 

On June 19, 2023, I had a scheduled ultrasound appointment. I was excited to see her. I got there early eagerly waiting to lay my eyes on my most precious gift. The tech explained that she would do both a vaginal ultrasound and a belly ultrasound.

We went over her brain, her heart, her little arms, her legs, her kidneys and a few other things and she was perfect. Everything was right on track. The tech even told me that she was measuring very long, and that her father must be tall. We laughed when I told her his saying: “I’m 6 feet, long reach, I can dunk on vertical.” I remember seeing my baby with her legs crossed and her arms up to her face. 

When she started the vaginal scan, the tech was a little more quiet. She didn’t talk or joke as much as she did when she was doing the belly scan. Five to six minutes into the scan, she stopped and said that she would be back. She wanted to give the baby time to turn. My gut feeling was that something was wrong because her body language had changed… and plus, the baby was active the whole scan — what did she mean, ‘give her time to turn’?

She came back a couple of minutes later with two doctors. At that moment I knew something was wrong. My life had changed. 

Dr. Jay asked me, “Have you ever been told you have a short cervix?” I answered her, “no.” She explained to me that my cervix had already started dilating, and that I was 1 cm at 21 weeks pregnant and it was due to an incompetent cervix. I remember her asking me if I would just want to go ahead and have an abortion now.

I prayed for this baby. It took me five years to get this far. I have plans with her. We’ve bonded so much already. I wanted to do everything possible to save her. All I could think was, “I can’t lose my baby.” She has a soul. Developed brain. She knows my voice and she reacts to me. She’s a perfect human being.

That day they did a test on her amniotic fluid and on me, to check for infection after I strongly refused an abortion.

They talked to me about putting in a cerclage to prevent my cervix from opening more, but only if there was no infection. I was taken to be admitted into the hospital. While waiting for the test results, I was nervous. I prayed that everything would be alright.

I remember Dr. Jay coming into the room smiling, and I felt my worries disappear — she was smiling… that meant good news, right? No. She told me that my white blood cells were high, which meant there was an infection somewhere so they were unable to do the cerclage. (My baby’s results weren’t back at the time but I later found out there was no infection with her.)

I stopped breathing. I remember hearing her explain that there was nothing more that they could do to save my baby. I remember trying to speak, but only sobbing. 

She sent me home with instructions to be on bed rest. I laid in bed for a week when I started feeling pains. All the while, my daughter was still very active, kicking and jabbing and just making me the happiest version of myself.

On July 27th, I noticed light bleeding when I went to the bathroom. At 10 pm it started to get worse, so I sprayed some lavender to help me relax and rest. I woke up about 12:30 am and I was in too much pain. My husband rushed me to the hospital, running every red light.

Fifteen minutes after arriving my water broke. I couldn’t think of anything but “please save my baby.” The doctor came in and checked me. He said that I was 3-4 cm dilated. I cried. She was only 22 weeks gestation. I was given the option of a C-section or vaginal birth. I didn’t want to deliver her vaginally and I voiced that to the doctor. He insisted that I would risk infection if I chose c-section.

After going back and forth he told me that he could take her out in pieces if I want (as if my indecisiveness frustrated him). I couldn’t believe that a doctor would say that to me during such difficult times, in such a nasty tone with no compassion as I was losing my baby — as if she was garbage.

The thoughts of them cutting my daughter in pieces stressed me out so much that I just decided to push her out. I didn’t want that doctor to touch me. 

I delivered my daughter, Naomi Mashae Brown, on 7/28/2023 at 4:23 am. She came out feet first. When she finally came out, she wasn’t breathing. She was blue. Lifeless… but still so beautiful. She had my nose, my eyes, and her daddy’s lips. She was perfect.

I held my daughter until she was stiff. My life will never be the same. I’ll never be the Denise I was before this day. 

Incompetent cervix is something that should be checked for earlier than five months. I started complaining about cramps and bleeding between weeks 8-16. If the hospital had listened to my concerns and worries, maybe they would have noticed the change in my cervix sooner.

Throughout my pregnancy, I feel my care was not taken seriously, which caused the death of my only child. My dream has turned into a nightmare. I’ll forever blame myself because I didn’t advocate for myself. The cramping, the early bleeding, and the pressure I was assured were nothing to worry about was, in fact, something to worry about.

Signs of incompetent cervix include feeling of pelvic pressure, vaginal bleeding, vaginal discharge and backache. I reported all of those early on and was only checked for STDs, even though I told them I was married and I suspected no sexually transmitted infections.

I was overlooked and under-cared for, and now every day I have to live my life without my daughter. I have to live with a box that holds memories of her birth.

Don’t let the doctors tell you that you are overreacting and that your concerns are not valid.

Editor’s Note: Minor clarifications have been made to this guest article prior to publication.