December 22, 2014 at 6:55pm I received an email containing the Appellate
decision regarding Noah's medical malpractice case. The timing of
this news even harder as it was the day I went into labor, with Noah's
birthday today, and Christmas only 2 more days away. This time of year
is beyond hard to write about, I try to do my best to downplay and
minimize the reality of what I really feel so as to not let on the true
nature and pain of the suffering that I continually experience - the
perpetual pain. Compounded to all these feelings are things that are
beyond my control.
The Appellate Court's Decision:
JUDGMENT AFFIRMED, ORDER VACATED,
AND CASE REMANDED WITH DIRECTIONS
In Noah's case this means that the jury's decision stands, and that the costs against us will simply be set for a hearing.
I
feel like Noah will never have the proper closure to what happened to
him at birth. It doesn't even matter what other's opinions may or may
not be because I lived it. I live, breathe, eat, sleep and wake up to
the truth every single day. I am haunted by it, knowing my son will
never have justice. I re-live it all on a regular basis, the sounds,
what was said, the hospital smells, it never goes away. It's as fresh as
the day it happened. The memories never fade, and I carry this weight
around me like a chain that grips my heart.
I dedicated nearly
ten years of my life to a judicial system I believed in. A system I
never thought would fail my son. I believed the truth would conquer
all. And the truth is more important to me than anyone could ever
realize.
I had to tell Chris about the news in the email. I
seen his body just gently fall, his shoulders collapse and tears well in
his eyes. He held his composure best he could so not as to deviate
from being strong. Luke still much to young to even understand what
has been going on or what this all means, looked with deep concern as
endless tears followed down my face. I was in and out of sleep most of
the night. Luke awoke with a bad dream and for a brief instant I forgot
and then remembered the news. This pain in my head from the pressure
of all my tears, shot down through my throat and past my heart and into
my stomach. How could this be? This nightmare I cannot wake from.
We've
endured putting Noah through invasive Court ordered genetic testing,
faced an order to sedate Noah, who likely would not have survived
sedation, for a MRI the day I was giving birth to his little brother, a
theory that Noah suffered a brain injury weeks or days prior to birth
(which is plastered all over the Internet in a Supreme Court ruling),
only to get to trial and have them spring a new defense of merconium
aspiration syndrome. Tell me where the truth of what happened to Noah
is in that paragraph... because it's not there. It's not there at all.
It's
in the fact that Noah wasn't timely delivered and was crying out for
help and those cries were ignored until it was too late for Noah and he
was born dead and then miraculously revived 13 minutes later. His life
would have been different. He should be running around right now
telling me how excited he is for his 6th birthday. And this pain, this
terrible heartache as a mother that I can't change what is. I don't
know how one recovers from this kind of brokenness. How much pain is
one person supposed to carry in their lifetime?
And all I can do
is try to hide the tears from my children as I celebrate Noah's sixth
birthday, and move forward the best I can with Christmas.
Love,
Noah's Miracle by Stacy Warden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.