Stories of who lost children at birth. Cases of miraculous returns of missing children
It was a planned, one might say, long-awaited, pregnancy, beforehand we took tests and underwent all the necessary examinations. The pregnancy went almost perfectly, apart from SARS, suffered in the first trimester and toxicosis, which lasted longer than usual, while the results of all tests were clean.
To avoid problems, I got on a paid account on the recommendation of one of the decent medical centers. I felt light and wonderful until it was time to do a planned third ultrasound at the 31st week in the same medical center, according to the results of which acute polyhydramnios was diagnosed and an urgent caesarean was recommended (by the way, at the previous appointment, the doctor noticed that my stomach was "like as if to give birth soon, "but did not take any measures). To confirm / refute this fact, we went to the uzist in the republican center, she agreed with her colleague. Analyzing the past, I can say that our biggest mistake was that we had to undergo another independent examination (as a result, the postpartum discharge indicated that there were (attention!) Moderate waters of a transparent color, that is, in fact, there was no polyhydramnios as such ).
At the perinatal center, where we arrived immediately after the examination, the doctor on duty started yelling at us, saying where you go for so many hours (the referral was issued in the morning, we arrived after lunch) that the child could die at any moment, and this scared us a lot. ..
I lay under observation for several days, the water, according to ultrasound, did not decrease, but did not increase either. I felt good, there was no shortness of breath, pressure, tests were normal (I had to run headlong if I knew what hellish torment awaits my child due to fatal mistakes, actions, inaction) ...
My son was born in serious condition (32 weeks, weight under 2 kg, 46 cm), as a result of a caesarean section under general anesthesia (so far no one has really been able to answer me why general anesthesia was used, because local anesthesia was enough From open sources, I learned that general anesthesia greatly affects the nervous system of the child, which is why, I believe, the child could be born in a severely depressed state and did not breathe, he was resuscitated immediately after birth). Professionals of the resuscitation center fought for his life for almost a month and literally pulled him out of the other world.
They began to “twist” my baby in the neonatal pathology department, where everyone is transferred from intensive care before discharge. The baby began to have attacks of respiratory arrest more and more often, no one could explain the reasons, because he breathed on his own (on oxygen, sometimes he coped without it). At some point, the attacks stopped, and he began to gain weight steadily, CT did not show anything serious - there was a clear trend towards improvement ... at that time we were in the center for two months and were sure that we would be discharged very soon ...
Unexpectedly for us, the chief pediatrician of the city and the leadership of the Center decided to transfer to a children's hospital, arguing that this is a maternity hospital, and not a medical institution, they cannot keep us any longer (for comparison, we were in bed for about 70 days, and my neighbors on the ward were 100 and 140 days). I started to panic, how come? After all, we should be discharged soon, we are fine, the child is gaining weight, slowly feeding from the breast, what else do you need? To which I was told that there were qualified personnel and equipment ... A couple of days in intensive care, as is customary, a couple of weeks in the hospital, and we would be at home ... As I later realized, they simply got rid of us, so they avoided responsibility for life child. The attending physician told us, it’s a pity that they are transferring, the baby is so pretty, his cheeks appeared, but since the administration decided so, she can’t help in any way.
At that moment, it seemed to me that the worst was over, but it turned out that they were just starting to “twist” us ...
The transfer turned out to be a great stress for the baby, I was not allowed to either accompany or visit him immediately after the transfer, and when the next day I was allowed to come in for 3-5 minutes, he was already on a ventilator ... On the morning of that day, he was barely pumped out after stopping breathing ... By the way, for all these months of struggle / torment, he could not get rid of the tube from his throat, you can’t even imagine what kind of torment it is ... I am more than sure that he did not need to be translated , he would have recovered next to me, his condition was much better than those who subsequently left the center ...
I will move on to concrete facts so that you can imagine what innocent babies, just born, and their parents have to go through.
Nurses, even with parents, manage to shove milk into babies with a large syringe in a couple of minutes (!). For the uninformed, I will say that milk should be given fractionally, with a break of several minutes, the nurse should hold the syringe, while the milk itself should be slowly absorbed in a small body (which we did for 2 months at the center, this allowed the baby to gain 2 kg for 2 months).
They sometimes completely forgot to feed, they could just fall asleep on the shift. At the same time, such babies cannot even make sounds like ordinary children, since the tube in the throat does not allow this. For the medical staff, this is nothing, well, they forgot, so what, with whom it doesn’t happen, they passed the shift, they forgot. Do you know what these 60 ml mean for a child? If they don’t feed, then they don’t gain weight, if they don’t gain weight, respectively, they have no strength, if they don’t have strength, then they can’t breathe, which means that they have less and less chance to get rid of the apparatus ... This is someone understand? Does anyone explain to them popularly about such consequences?
Can you imagine that a weak and sick child with pneumonia is left uncovered in a draft? No? I can, because I saw it with my own eyes, while the draft was such that the wide blinds rose from the air flow!
You know, it doesn’t fit in my head, how can you calmly look at the fact that the lips of a small 4-kilogram baby are chapped to the point of blood? How long did he lie with his mouth dry? It will take a few seconds to drip some water. At my request to anoint the baby's lips with cream, the nurse stuffed the cream into his mouth, like "mom, fuck off." And why is it asked to tie the hands of such a crumb, when you can cover him with a blanket and no problems, he doesn’t even have the strength to lift the blanket.
I will not write much about such trifles as the fact that they gave an expired mixture (in my case, at night), this, of course, will seem like a mere trifle to you.
Unfortunately, that's not all.
A doctor who, when asked about the child’s condition, how he feels today, whether he is throwing up, whether he has a temperature, answers the phone “What ??”, And even with such ambition, as if I had come to his house to ask for bread. By the way, when we just entered, on the shift of the same doctor, I asked about the condition of my child, to which he specified who exactly, where he was lying and confidently answered that he was in a coma. I say how it is, he was conscious, we just entered yesterday, to which he muttered something absurd. Judge for yourself the professionalism of such a doctor.
Literally a week before our child left, the baby had such an edema that he was unrecognizable: his big eyes became narrow, narrow, he was all puffed up like a balloon, and this happened on the shift of the same doctor. Yes, at that time, a lot of things were injected intravenously, up to nutrition, but shouldn't they constantly monitor and stop if they see that something has gone wrong? Instead of waiting for the manager to come in the morning and take action.
Somehow it happened that in the morning I brought milk and waited for the necessary document. Then the resuscitation worker came out from the shift, and I asked how she was doing. To which she replied that there was no time for fatigue - she needed to work as a dishwasher. I don’t blame her or others, because every second person there works part-time at other jobs, the thought does not leave me, how can such an employee conscientiously work out a shift? She will not think about how to save the lives of children, because she has her own problems up to her ears: loans, tuition fees for children (I asked), will she be interested in the elementary, did your baby eat / is he okay ...
In addition, medical staff who directly monitor children can afford to come to work with obvious signs of SARS and walk without masks (one sick nurse personally observed us). In fact, this is a very important point, since the risk of infection from constantly nearby people increases, moreover, it can be fatal for such small patients...
What can we say about ordinary employees, if the leadership of the clinic allows itself ... Somehow by chance in the administration I witnessed a conversation between the leaders of the clinic, when one of the other says (she apparently did not notice me) that she was already sick of her mothers. If you're sick of us, maybe you shouldn't torture yourself? What is holding you? If you hate it so much, give it to others who love this business - saving children. You can "twist", we have learned this from bitter experience ...
Does anyone know if the clinic management has to tell the parents directly that the child will not survive this night?! They don't have a sense of tact, they don't learn that?
To say that I was shocked is to say nothing, I kept silent, but thought to myself: "She imagined herself to be Allah in order to speak like that? How does she know how long my child will live?" He lived that night and lived the day, and at sunset he left...
Approximately two weeks before the incident, they stopped letting me in to see the child in the evenings, motivated by the fact that we could bring infections. The head physician did not even let him into his office, he passed "an order is an order." We had to agree, but a little later, kind people reported that other parents kept coming and going. To my question, I received an answer from the administration that only children of very difficult children come in, and that we are ungrateful parents. Naturally, I began to find out what, unlike us, other parents are grateful for. The father of one child said that every evening he "thanks" the doctor and nurse with N amount, unfortunately, we found out about this too late, we had the opportunity to thank so much ... Severe children, whose parents also visited in the evenings, were transferred to chambers, they remained after our departure ... Just draw conclusions about who was heavier and why they were launched.
You probably won’t believe it if I say that intensive care doctors can afford to set parents against each other, so much so that we were ready to cut each other’s throats in the corridor.
And parents, after all, bow before doctors, as before gods, because the lives of our children are in their hands.
We must pay tribute, there are moments for which you can really be grateful, thank those who invest in children from the bottom of their hearts: some nurses for taking care of them as if they were their own children; a doctor who did everything in his power to get my baby out, and it showed; to the attending physician for showing his professional and human qualities more than once, for allowing me to say goodbye to the baby, to be with him in the last minutes ... Yes, we thanked as best we could: somewhere with money, somewhere gifts, no matter how small. What else should I have done to save my child, who had every chance and desire to live ... Unfortunately, there were so few conscientious doctors ("one in the field is not a warrior", as they say), a few among dozens .. .
Literally a week before the tragic day, we were told that there is every chance to recover. And I am sure that there were chances, because the child practically did not differ from healthy children in appearance: he followed everything that was happening with his eyes, raised his arms and legs, grabbed, sucked on a pacifier, even smiled. The percentage of his spontaneous breathing reached 49, it could be better and better ... We were preparing for treatment and rehabilitation abroad, as soon as the child became transportable, we would fly away ...
In fact, I planned to write a short text to pour out my soul, to show this "hellish kitchen", and now I understand that I am ready to write a book about everything that happened during these months.
I would very much like, and I think hundreds, if not thousands of mothers who have lost children, will join me so that people who go into medicine, especially those who go to children's intensive care (no matter by whom), realize that this is not just a job that children, innocent creatures who did not even have time to really see this world can die from their action / inaction ... For example, do you want to live yourself? In the same way, if not more, these children, babies want to know the joys of this world...
Janitors can under-clean, plumbers can under-repair, even teachers can under-teach something, but you don’t have the moral right to under-do / redo something. I am telling you this as a mother who "lived" in intensive care for almost seven months and saw as many deaths as Allah forbid anyone to see and experience this!
Why am I scared for the parents and their children who, by the will of fate, find themselves within the walls of such medical institutions? If ALL medical staff do not properly treat their duties, neither the most expensive and effective medicines and preparations (we found everything they asked for on time), nor the coolest connections (a high-ranking official from Astana took personal control of our child's treatment) won't help you.
Dear mothers, future mothers, in order not to experience such horror, I ask you to take care of yourself and your children, carefully go through all the examinations, do not blindly trust doctors, double-check, play it safe. As you can see, it is impossible to predict everything in advance, if you are not lucky, the outcome can be more than deplorable...
P.S. While I was writing this article, several more premature babies died in this hospital, with whose mothers we were in the maternity hospital. Unfortunately, we have to state the fact that such children in Kazakhstan are doomed. Another important point worth mentioning: we were called to the morgue and said that I myself and no one else were to blame for the death of my child, that they were ready if we were going to sue (although there was no talk from our side about this yet) And they didn't even show the conclusion. To the question: “How do you connect the death of a child from sepsis with the mother’s polyhydramnios, especially since the extract from the maternity hospital states that there were moderate waters of a transparent color?” They said that this is a different organization and they were not there ...
I am writing this letter after 1 year, 7 months and since my life was divided into “before” and “after”. Attached to the letter is a "Decree on the closure of the criminal case." But, unfortunately, the mean lines of the investigator will never be able to convey the feelings of a mother who has lost a child.
My seven-year-old son Igorek is a very cheerful, cheerful and active boy. Rarely ill child, who loves outdoor games and constantly asks a lot of questions. So it was once.
For the first time, “we” had chickenpox at 1.5 years old (there is an entry about this in the outpatient card, 10.10.2005). Everyone, like everyone else, was cured and ran to explore the world further. But at the age of 7, the diagnosis was repeated (for the Easter holidays), the doctor we visited Strelchenko Tamara Viktorovna, the district pediatrician of the Korsun-Shevchenkovsky Central District Hospital surprised me with the answer that it was impossible to get sick with such a disease twice, and explained this by the fact that the primary diagnosis was then incorrect. After the illness (the son was at home for 10 days, although the sick leave with such a diagnosis was at least 21 days), the doctor asked about his state of health, but did not offer to do tests to check whether everything was normal. This was the end of our treatment for recurrence of chickenpox.
On July 1, 2011, the son went to my father, his grandfather. Everything was wonderful, the child played, rested and was under constant supervision. But already on the 15th in the morning, Igor had a fever, as my dad told me by phone. Dad offered to treat his grandson on his own, but I insisted that the child be brought to me. The fact is that we rarely parted, he was always with me. And, of course, I could not allow my sick child to be away from me, although his grandfather is a very responsible person. On the same day, at 11 in the morning, when my son arrived, he was very tired after the road, complained of pain in his stomach, I thought it was from the heat and the long tiring road. I went from 11 to 12 in the morning with my son to our hospital. At the reception was doctor Konelsky V.D. at that time he worked as a district pediatrician at the children's polyclinic of the Korsun-Shevchenkovsky RCB (currently working at the place of registry, Kharkov). After examining his son, feeling his stomach, listening to his heart, the doctor suggested that it could be poisoning. The doctor gave a referral for a urine test and advised to do an enema, prescribed medications, the doctor pasted the result with the tests done on the card. Lymph nodes were not examined! We were not sent for a blood test.
When we got home, we did an enema, and Igor felt better, his temperature stabilized. I breathed a sigh of relief. On the second day in the morning, Igorek played in the fresh air, rode a bicycle, behaved like a healthy child. Toward evening, when we were outside together, Igor turned his head sharply, and I saw swollen lymph nodes on his neck. Since my grandmother is an experienced dentist, I asked her if this could be what I'm thinking about ... Cancer. Grandmother confirmed my guesses, but tried to calm me down, saying that this could even be from a draft on the road.
The next day, and it was Sunday, July 17, 2011, I rushed to the hospital with the child, I wanted to refute my terrible guess. My boy became worse again, the temperature is 38.3. The next doctor is the doctor on duty Gomelyuk V.M. the pediatrician of the emergency department examined the child and, hearing that there was no diarrhea, no vomiting, or any other symptoms of poisoning, asked how many times the enema had been done. Hearing the answer that the enema was done only once, he answered - it is necessary to do more. I asked to look at the enlarged lymph nodes in my son, they bothered me, but the answer was not clear.
I took the initiative into my own hands and began to ask for a referral for a blood test, to which the doctor reluctantly prescribed it, and said that it would be possible to do this tomorrow. Because it was a holiday. I insistently asked for analysis today and right now. My worst guess came true, waiting for the results, I found out that there were 223 leukocytes in the blood. The doctor did not suggest hospitalization. Therefore, we took Igor and his grandfather to the children's department of the Cherkasy Oncological Hospital, without a referral, on our own. In the waiting room, we were met by a nurse who, after looking at the child, said that the child was not bleeding, that he had come with his legs and did not look like a sick person, there was no referral, which means that she would not call a doctor.
In the morning of the next day, we went to Nesmiyanova N.V. (district pediatrician of the Korsun-Shevchenkovsky Central District Hospital), but she did not even want to listen to us, arguing that we were without a voucher. It was Monday. There were huge queues in the hospital, it is clear that with such tests we did not want to waste a single minute, and I went to the children's department, where I finally received advice, attention, and, most importantly, a referral for a second blood test with the formula from the doctor Taranenko Olga Fedorovna, X-ray of the chest and ultrasound of the spleen and liver, seeing the results, she immediately gave a referral to the Cherkasy Oncological Hospital.
On the same day, the Cherkasy Hematology Department received us. A second blood test showed that the leukocytes had doubled. Having made a diagnosis - “acute lymphoblastic leukemia T-cell”, they began to treat us, but in vain. My boy got worse.
On the 5th day of treatment, we were prescribed chemotherapy.
But at 4 am on July 22, 2011, Igorka was gone. My baby burned out in 5 days...
This date was established at the initiative of the European Federation for the Tracing of Missing and Victims of Sexual Exploitation of Children.
About 90% of missing children are in hot pursuit or in the first year after the disappearance; in most cases, these are babies lost due to parental oversight. However, there are a number of cases where lost children return to their families after many years.
At the end of March 2012 from a kindergarten in the city of Krasnokamsk in the Perm Territory. The investigating authorities worked out two versions: either the boy was really kidnapped, or he was taken by a woman friend who did not inform her parents about the whereabouts of the child. The authorities of the region announced a reward of one million rubles for reliable information about the boy.
Five days later, the city taxi service received a phone call from an unknown woman who said that the child was at a bus stop in the Kirovsky district of Perm. There he was discovered. All the perpetrators were arrested. The woman who kidnapped the boy said that she wanted a child named Ilya and stole Yaropolov just for this reason. The child was treated well, he was well kept, they even bought toys for him, but they did not take him out for a walk. The situation was explained to him by the fact that his mother was in the hospital.
In 2010 in Ukraine, 10 years later, Tatyana Menzheres, a resident of the Kyiv region, found her daughter Olga, who was kidnapped at the railway station in Kyiv on March 6, 2000 at the age of 4 years. Tatyana saw her daughter in the Internet edition of the program of the All-Ukrainian charitable project "Child Tracing Service", which broadcast a story from one of the boarding schools in Odessa. The girl could not recognize her mother, the woman had to undergo a DNA examination and prove her relationship with Olya for two years. According to the girl herself, she lived in Odessa, first with her grandmother, who called her Diana Sklyarenko and made her beg for money from passers-by, then because of repeated beatings, the girl ran away and ended up in a gypsy camp, receiving a new name - Nina Burdyuzha. The girl continued to beg, for which she was detained by police officers, after which the teenager was taken to a boarding school, where they actively began searching for her relatives.
In 2010 15-year-old Samuel Perez, Filo Filo and 14-year-old Edward Nassau from the New Zealand-administered Tokelau archipelago, stole a motorboat, went to a nearby atoll for a drink, but swam in the wrong direction. Three days later the fuel ran out. Teenagers with the help of a tarp managed to collect water during the rain. The tarpaulin also sheltered the boys from the cold. During the seven weeks of the forced journey, the boys ate only once, after they managed to catch a seagull that had landed on the side of the boat.
In 2008 in Latvia, in Daugavpils, 16 years later, a teenager was found who was kidnapped from a stroller left at a supermarket at the age of one and a half months. As it turned out, all this time he lived in the neighborhood from his real parents. The case of the missing child was solved by accident: the woman with whom he had lived all these years ended up in a pre-trial detention center, the teenager was handed over to social workers. Starting to collect documents for the boy, officials discovered that he did not have a birth certificate. After lengthy clarifications, the woman admitted that the child was adopted. She said that the boy was brought at the age of one and a half months by her now deceased husband from Dagestan, calling him his illegitimate son. Despite the large number of inconsistencies in the story and circumstantial evidence pointing to the woman's involvement in the kidnapping of the baby, the investigators failed to prove her guilt. DNA analysis fully confirmed the relationship of the lost child with the parents who have been looking for him all these years.
In 2007 at a resort in the Yeisk district of the Krasnodar Territory, 14-year-old windsurfer Rodion Kadyrov was blown into the open sea. Strong winds interfered with the search for the boy: because of the high waves, it was impossible to see the windsurfer's board. Rodion fought for life with all his might. "Cassiopeia". The boy managed to spend the night in the hold, hiding with navigation charts. There was no water on the barge, so they had to drink sea water. In addition to cards, the boy found matches and wood in the hold and decided to set fire to the barge to attract the attention of rescuers. The plan worked and on the same day Rodion Kadyrov was found. The rescuers were so impressed by the masculinity of the young Robinson that they even offered him to join the ranks of the Ministry of Emergency Situations in a few years.
In January 2007 in the United States in the state of Missouri in the city of St. Louis, Sean Hornbeck was found missing in October 2002 after he went on a bike ride in his hometown of Kirkwood in Pennsylvania. It was possible to find the boy in the process of searching for another missing child. Ben Ownby, 13, from Franklin County, Arkansas, did not return home on January 8, 2007. During the search, police found a Nissan car belonging to a pizzeria worker, Michael Dalvin. The car fully matched the descriptions of the car in which Ownby was seen kidnapped. During a search of the suspect's apartment, both boys were found. As the investigators found out, the criminal was not afraid of exposure and even allowed children to play on the street.
In 2007 two girls from the Moscow region who attended the "Young Biologist" circle of the Moscow Zoo, 16-year-old Masha Sorokina and 12-year-old Masha Tarnopolskaya, came to the Urals with a group of ecologists. In the area of the "Denezhkin Kamen" nature reserve, the Ivdelsky district of the Sverdlovsk region, the girls got lost. Children in the taiga ate berries, drank water from springs and streams, and slept on cedar branches. . The girls were prepared for survival in nature in the classroom "Young biologist".
The children were found alive and healthy by a walking rescue team near the Maly Potmak River in the Perm Territory, after more than a week of searching.
In 2006 in Dresden, Germany, 13-year-old Stefanie went missing on her way to school. The search for the girl yielded no results. The police circulated a photo of Stefanie, but after that no one came forward with any information about the missing child.
A 31-year-old man came to the police, bringing what seemed to him a note worthy of attention, which he found in a bottle in a glass container. In it, Stefanie reported that she was in the hands of a rapist and asked to be saved. The note even contained the approximate address of the house where she was kept locked up. The police team found the girl in the home of a 35-year-old unemployed man with a previous conviction for rape. The house where Stefanie was kept by the criminal was just a few streets from the place where the girl herself lived.
March 2, 1998 10-year-old Natasha Kampusch was kidnapped by technician Wolfgang Priklopil in Strasshof, a suburb of Vienna (Austria). According to her friends, she was thrown into a white van by two unidentified men. After that, the girl was considered missing for 8 years. All this time, the kidnapper kept the child in a secret room, periodically allowing him to walk in the courtyard of his own house, and supplied him with books. During one of the walks on August 23, 2006, the girl managed to take advantage of the fact that Priklopil was distracted by talking on the phone and run away to the neighbors, who immediately called the police. The kidnapper, having learned about Natasha's escape, committed suicide by throwing himself under a train. The girl described the story of her abduction in the autobiographical book "3096 days", published in 2011.
June 10, 1991 11-year-old Jaycee Lee Dagard was abducted in the United States. From the reports of that time it is known that two unknown people in a gray sedan car drove up to Dagard at the time when the girl was walking to the bus stop, and then dragged her into the car. until, on August 27, 2009, she appeared at a police station in the city of Concord, California, along with her kidnappers, the Garrido spouses. The investigation found that the kidnapped girl was repeatedly abused by 58-year-old Philip Garrido and gave birth to two children from him. The Dagard family considered their daughter dead all these years.
In 1987 Indian Saru Brierley got lost at the station at the age of 5, lagging behind his brother and mistakenly boarding one of the trains, which was going in the opposite direction from the boy's residence. From fatigue, he fell asleep and woke up only after 10 hours in a completely different part of the country. For 4 months, Saru tried to return home, constantly facing danger and even being enslaved for a while. When the authorities released the boy, he was placed in foster care with guardians from Tasmania. Only 25 years later, Sar managed to remember the details of the past and the name of his hometown, after which the man turned to the police, who helped him find his real family.
The material was prepared on the basis of information from RIA Novosti and open sources
Natalya Rodikova
Exorbitantly blasphemous things happen in life, unnatural and contrary to nature itself - when parents lose their child. The whole horror of what happened lies in the fact that a woman remains a mother, but the child is no longer around.
These women survived. Survived after their death.
Radmila
After the departure of my son, my Dani, I began to go to the hospital. Many of Danka's friends remained there, women whom we met there and with whom we communicated for several years. In addition, when Danya and I were still in Moscow, and I saw how various holidays and training were organized for children there, clowns, some celebrities came. Our children were left to themselves, they entertained each other as best they could. At first, I did not understand that I was saving myself. I remember that Danka was 40 days old, I bought 3 or 4 tricycles, large cars that you can sit on and ride. I brought this as a gift from Dani. Then I just remembered how it was in Moscow, and I wanted our children to have it too. She held a holiday, brought household chemicals, water, came with volunteers. It always seemed to me that if Danka sees me, then he is proud of me. I still have that feeling. I consider my No Loss Foundation, which was born from this activity, as my child. Sometime in 2011 I gave birth to him, and now he is already 5 years old. And every year he becomes more mature, stronger, smarter, more professional.
I really like it when people remember something, some interesting moments from his life. My Danka had a friend Roma. He is now an adult, 21 years old. It's been 8 years, but every year he comes to the wake. And I am so pleased when he remembers some things that were connected with their friendship. And to this day I recognize some tricks that they did, but I didn’t know about them! And I am pleased that this little boy then, still remembers my son, appreciates this friendship. When I look at his photos on social networks, I think, wow, how big already. And I could have a child of the same age. Of course, I am glad that Roma's life has developed, and he is such a handsome, smart guy.
It is probably better to talk frankly with the child about what is happening to him. In these cases, irreversible tragedies do not happen to mothers. Mothers do not make decisions to leave after the child either. The child leaves some kind of order. We give him the opportunity to accept this situation, we have the opportunity to say goodbye - and this is priceless! In the pursuit of salvation, parents forget about the dying child himself. These palliative children are already so tormented by treatment, they just want to be left alone. At that moment, maybe the best thing would be to fulfill his childhood dream. Take him to Disneyland, meet someone, maybe he just wants to stay at home with his family. I made a lot of mistakes. I now remember, and I think, maybe he will forgive me. Because, of course, I wanted the best. I didn't have that knowledge then. I remember that he even tried to talk about it, but I did not hear. Now I would definitely talk to him, explain that this happens in life ... I would find the right words.
I dream of organizing a memorial day for such mothers. So that they have the opportunity to meet, talk about it, remember. And not only cry, but also laugh. Because every mother has some kind of happy memory associated with her child. I try to remember just that. Of course, a child dying in your arms is an imprint for life. But when it's especially hard, I try to remember something good. About how he took care of me, how he laughed, how we went somewhere, how he loved his bike, how he loved to collect his legos. His birthdays are how we celebrated the new year. We all united for him with all relatives. I was packing these gifts for half the night, we came up with traces of how Santa Claus came out of the window and left gifts. And these are very valuable and pleasant memories. I remember how he was born, how they gave him in my arms. In the morning they brought him to me, I thought: “God, how beautiful he is!”, It seemed to me that he had a halo, he was shining! Others are somehow not very ... but mine! I was proud that at the age of one he spoke three words: kitty, mother and fly. When he went, there was not yet a year, I thought - this is only mine! Nobody else! This is a unique case! :) When a child just dies, you can’t call and ask “how are you doing”. I think this question is stupid and inappropriate. How can it be for parents who have just lost their child. And we need to talk about what happened. If you try to close this topic, then the parents will experience it inside themselves. It is important to remember, to give parents the opportunity to tell about it. If the child has just left, of course, mom goes to the cemetery every day. Maybe try to perform this ritual with her, help her get there if there is no car. Be an assistant. No need to stop going there! Mom intuitively begins to do some things that help her. You just need to listen and not go against the grain.
For me, the first three years were the most difficult time. Everything around reminds of the presence. I know that many mothers decorate their apartments with photographs. Keep some things you love. For example, I have already gone for the ninth year, but its Lego constructor is still assembled. I like to say: he collected it! Imagine, at your age! There is such a complex structure, a car on a motor. And I was so proud that he collected it. Of course, you can’t leave your mother alone for a long time with this grief. Let her talk, cry. Many say: don't, don't cry... let her cry! It is necessary, it is very important to mourn your loss. This pain will always be with me. It's not going anywhere. And not a single mother who has lost her child will not go away. It seems to me that the parents of these children become palliatives for life. These parents need help throughout their lives.
Olga
My husband and I live - this year will be 35 years. We have two daughters - Maria, 32 years old, and Svetlana, 30 years old. Masha is married and lives in Novy Urengoy. Her daughter is 6 years old, son is 2 years old. He also works, like me, at an art school. Svetlana has been dancing all her life and works as a choreographer. While still studying at a pedagogical college, every year she worked in a pioneer camp as a choreographer and counselor. There she saw the children from the orphanage, who spent the whole summer in the camp. For several years she persuaded me to take a girl - Verochka, she really liked her - she also loves to dance. But for a long time I could not make up my mind, and only in the fall of 2007 did they write an application at the orphanage. The application was accepted, they said to wait for a call - they would invite to pass the School of foster parents. There was no call for a long time, I already decided that we were not suitable. They called in April. I was told that Verochka would not be given to us, since she has a brother, children cannot be separated. And they will give us another girl - Alina. She was given to the family last year, but they want to return.
She was born in a large family - the fourth or fifth child. According to the orphanage's documents, everyone visited places of detention. Mother was deprived of parental rights when she was 3 years old. Since then, she has been in an orphanage, since the age of seven she has been in an orphanage. The house where she lived with her parents burned down. She only remembers her grandmother, who came to her until she was taken into the family. I don't know why, but I got scared. Then I could not explain this fear to myself, now I think it was a premonition of our future events, a sign that if you are afraid, don’t take it!
I remember the moment we saw her for the first time. Alina had to be brought and immediately given to our family so that the children would not injure her with questions. We came for her with her daughter Svetlana. We were led to Alina. She sat at the table, indifferent, with slumped shoulders, all pressed into a chair, as if she wanted no one to notice her. Her gaze was fixed on nowhere. When asked if she would go live with our family, she glanced at us briefly and nodded as if she didn't care. So May 31, 2008 she became ours. At that time she was 10 years old. According to the documents, she is Alina. But at home we call her Polina. We decided to change her name after she read somewhere that Alina means "alien". We chose for a long time. We stopped at Polina not by chance: P - Olina (that is, mine); according to the digital designation, POLINA fully corresponds to ALINA; according to church canons corresponds to Apollinaria. Polina also means little. And she so wanted to be small, loved, because she was deprived of this.
For 2 years we lived not to say that it would be happy, but calm enough. Polina, in addition to school, also attended an artist and a musician. She had many friends. She turned out to be a cheerful, cheerful child. And in the family, everyone accepted her as their own, dear. Our hospital epic began at the end of August 2010. Polina found some kind of lump in herself.
Since November 17, 2010, the oncohematology department has become our second home. We lived there: we were treated, studied, went, when it was possible, to shops, cafes, cinemas. Met new people. They made friends, they fought, they made up. In general, they lived almost as before, with the exception of one thing: they learned to live with everyday pain. In children, pain is physical, in parents it is moral, mental. We also learned to deal with loss. Probably, in our case, this word should be written with a capital letter, because these are not just Losses, these are Kamilochka, Igor, Sashenka, Ilyusa, Egorka, Vladik ... And in my heart lived the hope that it would pass us by. We will recover, forget about this time, like a bad dream. Polinka has become truly dear to me here. I wanted to take her in my arms, press her to my chest, close myself from this illness. I did not give birth to her, but endured, suffered. How we rejoiced when we were discharged home in July. And how short-lived our joy turned out to be... In November we found ourselves again in our 6th department.
All year we came home only to pack things for the next trip. We hoped! We lived in this hope! But in December, here too, we received a terrible verdict. Until the last day, Polinka enjoyed life, rejoiced that spring would come soon. She managed to congratulate everyone on the first day of spring and live in her last spring for 3 days ...
How did I live these two and a half years? For the first six months, I just forgot how to talk. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, go anywhere, see anyone. Didn't answer phone calls. I quit the art school, where I worked for 25 years, I was the head teacher. Every day I looked at photographs, went to her page on VKontakte - leafed through her notes and comprehended them in a new way. In the store, I first of all went to those goods that I bought when we were in the hospital, to what Polka could buy. On the street I saw girls like her. At home, I put all her things, every piece of paper in her closet. I didn't even think about throwing away or giving away anything. It seems to me that then tears from my eyes just poured constantly.
In April, my eldest daughter left her granddaughter in my care. Now I understand how difficult it was for them to decide on this, but by doing this they probably saved me, pulled me out of depression. With my granddaughter, I again learned to laugh and rejoice. In September, she got a job at the Children's and Youth Center as the head of the art studio. New job, new people, new demands. A bunch of paper work. I had to study, not only work, but also live in a new reality for me. Time for memories was only at night. I learned to live without thinking about the past. It doesn't mean that I forgot - it was in my heart every minute, I just tried not to think about It.
I am grateful to the people who were with me that they did not bother me with questions. Sometimes it was scary to communicate with people, I was afraid that they would touch on a sore subject. I knew that I could not say anything, nothing at all - I just caught my breath, my throat constricted. But mostly there were people who understood and accepted my pain. It's hard for me to talk about this right now. On the other hand, I remember with gratitude how persistently she called me if I did not answer - to my children, one of the mothers who became just a friend to me. She wrote to me on the Internet, demanding answers. I just had to talk to her. She scolded me for not answering to others, because they are worried about us, offended by my inattention, by the fact that I simply ignore them. Now I understand how right she was. After the tests passed together, they did not deserve such treatment. It was sheer selfishness on my part to think only about my grief, to make them feel guilty that their children were alive, and not rejoice in it with them.
I am grateful to those who remember Polina. I am happy when her girlfriends write something about her on the Internet, post her photos, remember her in the days of memory. Now I understand how wrong I was, even selfish, when I was offended by those who told me that there was no need to bother her anymore, that we should let her live her last days calmly, at home, surrounded by loved ones, no need to inject her anymore, take medicines. I thought that it was necessary to fight to the end, especially since Polina wanted it that way. It's just that no one told her that she could no longer be helped. But I knew it! And continued to beat in a stone wall. I remember another girl whose mother accepted the inevitable and calmly gave and did everything for her daughter that she wanted. And I did not give Pauline rest. I begin to forgive those whom I offended during treatment. We left the hospital with a grudge. Rather, I left with a grudge. Polina, it seems to me, did not know how to be offended at all. Or life has taught her not to show it. I forgive because they are just people, just doing their job. And the palliative is not included in their competence. It turns out that they were not taught this. Now I know that there is no palliative care as such in Russia, with the exception of Moscow and St. Petersburg, and everything is very difficult there.
Once I was asked - would I like to forget about this period of my life? I don't want to forget. How can you forget about your child, about other children, about how they lived, what they experienced together. Illness has taught us a lot. This is part of my life and I don't want to lose it.
Oksana
My daughter Arisha was born as an angel on the feast of Easter and left for Christmas... There is no rational explanation why this happened to us. Our loss is terrible, and truly unfair. 10 months have passed, and I still look at the grave of my daughter - and I don’t believe it. Visiting your own child in a cemetery is something unrealistic. It’s like I left my own body and I’m looking at someone alien, unfamiliar, who stands there and puts flowers and toys on the ground ... Is it really me? Is this really my life? The common phrase that a mother is ready to give her life for her child becomes fully understandable - at the level of emotions - only when you yourself become a mother. Being a parent means carrying your heart outside, not inside. No matter how you imagine how a person who has lost a child feels, multiply it by a trillion times and it will still not be enough.
My experience is this: sincere human concern and kindness surprised me as many times as their absence. In fact, it is not so important what to say to a person. We really can't say "I understand you" here. Because we don't understand. We understand that it is bad and scary, but we do not know the depth of this hell in which a person is now. But a mother who has buried a child feels empathy, compassion for another mother who has buried a child, backed up by experience. Here every word can be at least somehow perceived and heard. And most importantly, here is a living person who also experienced this.
Therefore, at first I was surrounded by such mothers. It is very important for orphaned parents to talk about their grief, to speak openly, without looking back. I have found that this is the only thing that relieves the pain in any way. And also a lot, calmly and for a long time to listen. Not comforting, not encouraging, not asking to rejoice. The parent will cry, will blame himself, will retell the same little things a million times over. Just be around. It is very important to find at least one or two reasons to continue living. If you lay such a solid foundation in your head, it will serve as a buffer in those moments when the desire to “give up” arises. Also, pain is a trainer. Trainer of all other senses. Pain mercilessly, sparing no tears, trains the desire to live, develops the muscle of love.
Therefore, for the sake of all parents who experience grief, I will write 10 points. Perhaps they will change the life of at least one orphaned parent for the better.
1. 10 months have passed, and I wake up every morning with the same feeling of grief that I experienced on the day of Arisha's death. The only difference is that now I have learned to hide the pain of my torn to shreds heart much better. The shock slowly subsided, but I still can't believe it happened. It always seemed to me that such things happen to other people - but not to me. You asked me how I was, and then you stopped. Where do you get the information that in such and such a week, in such and such a month after the loss of a child, the mother no longer needs such questions and participation?
2. Please don't tell me that all you want is for me to be happy again. Believe me, no one in the world wants this as much as I do. But at the moment I can't achieve it. The most difficult thing in this whole story is that I have to find some other happiness. The one I once experienced - the feeling that you care for a loved one - will never come to me in its entirety again. And in this situation, understanding and patience on the part of loved ones can become truly saving.
3. Yes, I will never be the same again. I am now what I am. But believe me, no one misses me more than me! And I mourn two losses: the death of my daughter and the death of me as I once was. If you only knew what horror I had to go through, you would understand that to remain the same is beyond human strength. Losing a child changes you as a person. My views of the world have changed, what was once important is no longer so - and vice versa.
4. If you decide to call me on the first birthday of my daughter and the first anniversary of her death, why don't you do it on the second, on the third? Do you really think that every new anniversary becomes less important for me?
5. Stop constantly telling me how lucky I am to have my own guardian angel and another child. Did I tell you about this? Then why are you telling me this? I buried my own daughter, and you seriously think I'm lucky?
6. Is it bad to cry in front of children? You are wrong. It is just very useful for them to see how their mother mourns the death of their sister or brother. When someone dies, it's okay to cry. It’s not normal if children grow up and think: “It’s strange, but I’ve never seen a mother cry because of a sister or brother.” They may learn to hide their emotions, believing that if mom did it, then it’s right - and it’s wrong. We must grieve. As Megan Devine puts it, “Some things in life can’t be fixed. It can only be experienced."
7. Don't say that I have one child. I have two of them. If you don't consider Arisha my child just because she died, that's up to you. But just not with me. Two, not one!
8. There are days when I want to hide from the whole world and take a break from the constant pretense. On days like this, I don't want to pretend that everything is fine with me and that I feel my best. Don't think that I let grief break me or that I'm not right in the head.
9. Don’t use worn out phrases like: “Everything that happens is for the better”, “It will make you better and stronger”, “It was predetermined”, “Nothing happens just like that”, “You need to take responsibility for your life”, “Everything will be fine”, etc. These words hurt and hurt severely. To say so is to trample on the memory of loved ones. Say literally the following: “I know that you are in pain. I'm here, I'm with you, I'm there." Just be there, even when you feel uncomfortable or don't seem to be doing anything useful. Believe me, it is where you are not comfortable that the roots of our healing are located. It starts when there are people ready to go there with us.
10. Grieving for a child will stop only when you see him again. This is for life. If you're wondering how long your friend or family member will be blue, here's the answer: always. Don't push them, don't belittle the feelings they're having, don't make them feel guilty about them. Open your ears and listen, listen to what they tell you. Perhaps you will learn something. Don't be so cruel as to leave them alone.
Gulnara
When a big misfortune comes into the house - the loss of a child, the house freezes in an oppressive terrifying silence. The universal scope of grief falls on you like a wave of a giant tsunami. Covers so that you lose life orientation. Once I read in a smart book how you can save yourself if you got into it. First: you need to stop fighting the elements - that is, accept the situation. Secondly, it is necessary, having taken as much air into the lungs as possible, to sink to the very bottom of the reservoir and crawl along the bottom to the side, as far as possible. Third: you must definitely emerge. The most important thing is that you will do all the actions completely alone! A good instruction for those who know it and will use it if they find themselves in such a situation. It's only been a year since my son became a "celestial". It turned my whole life upside down. My personal experience of living with loss allows me to compose my instructions for “rescuing the drowning”. You can drown in grief very quickly, but this will not make it easier. Maybe my thoughts will be useful to someone.
From the very beginning, I have been surrounded and surrounded by people who support and help me. No, they didn't sit with me around the clock and mourn my child, no, they didn't teach me how to live and didn't analyze what happened. The first days and late evenings, there were sensitive, delicate people near me. They came to my house, invited me to visit, these were extraordinary meetings - support. I am very grateful to friends and acquaintances for this delicate care. Yes, they called me, but NOBODY asked HOW IT happened. Everyone was interested in my well-being and my plans for the day. I was offered joint walks in the beautiful places of the city, offering me to make my own choice.
Later, I decided to give all the toys, and the child's things to other children who need them, made a small rearrangement in the apartment. I removed all photos. When I'm mentally ready, I'll put them in a prominent place again. It made it easier for me to deal with grief. I have a goal, I really want to reach it. Moreover, the goal appeared immediately, as soon as the irreparable happened.
I had to live through “I can’t”, I have always loved Life, and I believed and believe that I can handle it. I went on a trip to the sea. And I'm very lucky with the company. All the people on vacation were new, unfamiliar to me. And that helped me a lot. After the trip, I went to work. And I am very grateful to the team for that silence and delicacy, for patience and for showing care. I will not hide, at times it was disastrously difficult. I also tried to be among people more, to make new acquaintances. When it got really hard, I called mothers who also lost children, and began to entertain them with all sorts of positive stories. It was difficult, but I WANTED TO PLEASE. And it became easier for me. The girls in response told me that I called in time and thanked for the support. We laughed together into the handsets, remembered our children, and it was a bright memory that gave strength. It is necessary to communicate with those who are in the same whirlpool. It makes you stronger and these people feel you as you feel them. I remember that at the very beginning I had a huge sense of guilt that I did not save my son, and in order not to destroy myself, I began to deal with this problem. The help of a psychologist is a good support, especially if he is a high-class professional. And another important point, I don’t like it when they pity me and even worse when I start to feel sorry for myself. I am sure that you need to bring yourself back to life through communication with people with whom you feel good, through your favorite hobbies, try yourself as a lone traveler in some uncharted area that you have long dreamed of, of course, without fanaticism. More to be in the fresh air, perhaps to master a new business. Gather guests in the house. Walk around with guests. Read new books, watch interesting films, visit theaters and museums, travel. Be sure to interact with your children when you are ready. They are very sensitive and give a lot of love and care. And remember, humans are not perfect. Try not to be offended and not offend those who say incorrect things to you. You are living a terrible grief, and people do not always know how to behave next to you in a difficult situation. There are no institutes and schools with a special curriculum in such cases. Release them in peace. And live on.
And yet, you have a great power within you. Believe in it, then you can live this pain. And also you have a lot of love, warmth and kindness. Give it to people and more will come back to you. If any of you who live in a similar situation need support and help, then you can call me 8-927-08-11-598 (phone in Ufa).
The original interview is on Leisen Murtazina's LiveJournal. All photos of moms - photographer
Children who died because of the "kindness" of their parents. Real stories
It's scary for the kids, really. I want to save and protect them from everything. But sometimes the best ideas go sideways, either from their overzealous implementation, or from the fact that they are abused by people who should not have been allowed close to children from the very beginning.
Fear of malnutrition
Dead animals, GMOs and glutamate, dyes, preservatives and the general fear of obesity. It is difficult to say whether there is at least something left on sale that you can feed your child without feeling remorse. Not surprisingly, parents try to choose the most “correct” food. The trick is what is right.
In 2015 Sean and Maria Hosanna, parents of three children, ended up in court. Their youngest girl, Matina, was 2 years and 3 months old in 2011 when she died from a combination of asthma and malnutrition. Parents sincerely loved their daughter, never offended her, and fed her exclusively healthy vegan food. They were not bothered by the fact that the weak child barely crawled at two years old. As a result, the mother and father were convicted, and the rest of their children ended up in guardianship authorities.
Horrible story happened to a 6 week old Crown Shakur. The child was born at home, premature, the doctors did not show him. His vegan parents fed him soy milk and apple juice. As a result, the newborn died, and the parents, Thomas and Jade, were sentenced to life imprisonment.
In 2011, they distinguished themselves in a similar way Christopher and Mary Soultze from Wisconsin, earning a year in prison and a $25,000 fine. Their newborn girl was also premature, the doctors wanted to leave her in the hospital for observation, but the mother decided that in such conditions the child could “ get fat“. At home, the girl grew and developed more slowly than normal, and in 14 months she gained only 6 kilograms. Parents stubbornly refused to follow the recommendations of doctors to feed the baby properly, because obesity is so dangerous. Not only was the child taken away from them, but they were forbidden to ever approach him.
Fear of medicine
The healthcare system also causes fears among modern parents, sometimes quite justified. But there is a safe and well-publicized alternative medicine! Why not contact her.
In 2013 7 year old Ryan Alexander Lovett(Vancouver, Canada) died of a bacterial infection that could be treated with antibiotics. His loving mother never wished harm to her son, but, unfortunately, she was a staunch opponent of official medicine. She never showed the child to the doctors at all, and when he had a fever, despite the concern of her acquaintances, she stubbornly treated him with homeopathy. She called an ambulance only when the child began to have convulsions, but it was too late.
In 2002 an Australian Thomas Sam My wife and I tried to cure their 9-month-old daughter Gloria on their own. Thomas was a specialist in homeopathy, so he remained absolutely confident in his abilities. The child fell ill at 4 months, the baby had serious and obvious skin problems, eczema. The girl's condition consistently worsened for the rest of her life, to the point that she became gray-haired. In the end, Gloria died from blood poisoning and exhaustion, and her body's desperate struggle with the disease led to exhaustion. Attempts to count the number of children who have died as a result of parental refusal to vaccinate are being conducted at antivaccinebodycount.com. Now there is the number 9020.
school fear
The school also has something to blame. Everyone is taught according to the same pattern, children and teachers often torment each other, and the principles of education may not correspond to family values. And then there is a great idea - to teach children on their own. In many US states, it is very easy to homeschool a child. In 10 states, it is not regulated at all, and in 15, parents are only required to confront the school with a fact. It is difficult to assess the pros and cons of this system, since it is closed: teachers, social workers do not have the right to find out what is happening behind the doors of private homes. And that is why sectarians and sadists began to resort to it. After all, a child taught at home may not appear in public for years, and no one will hear complaints and will not see bruises.
February 2010 Kevin and Elizabeth Schatz conducted a lesson with two adopted daughters, 7-year-old Lydia and 11-year-old Zaria. The sessions consisted of beating children with a plastic tube for several hours. The younger girl died, the older sister survived, her parents went to prison.
May 11, 2011 13 year old Hana Williams dropped dead in her foster parents' backyard. A baby from impoverished Ethiopia was adopted three years ago. On the night of her death, she was emaciated, her head was shaved baldly, and her body was scarred from being beaten with a hose. The girl was kicked out into the yard in the rain for disobedience, ordered to jump if she was cold. She developed a fever, in a fever and delirium, she tore off her already light clothes and, in the end, died of hypothermia. Adoptive mother, Carrie Williams, and 8 brothers and sisters Hana watched from the window as the unfortunate woman rushes around the yard, falls, rises and falls again. The adoptive father called the rescue service with the words: “ I think my daughter committed suicide. She is very stubborn“.
Lydia and Hana's parents belonged to the same radical Christian movement, they taught children according to the book of Pastor Michael Pearl "How to teach a child." Pearl wholeheartedly recommends using plastic tubes to punish children as young as six months old. And between beatings, a parent can wear a pipe around his neck on a string to remind him of discipline. The author, of course, did not take responsibility for the deaths of the girls, because he did not offer to kill anyone directly.
