Well it has been a while...my sisters Dad has passed...Christmas and New Year has come and gone. I haven't had the best start to the New Year. I broke my ass....literally on the first day of this year. Wow, I figured that bad things come in threes. My friend isn't my friend..and her husband killed himself...that is one. My sister's Dad died of cancer...that is two. Then I learned that my daughter's baby has a congenital heart defect....teterology of follot...I thought that was three until..I actually fell and broke my ass. Hmmm so where do we go from here?

I have been contemplating just being a good person. I think that I am okay...and then something happens. I am sure that you could only keep up if I wrote everyday. Maybe for my well being that is what I need to do. So let me start by backing up..and telling you why I have been so distraught.

Our daughter Shannen is 28+ weeks pregnant. Thank God! That is how far along I was at 19 when my first child was born and died. I truly think the staff was hardened...they kept saying "Your young and you can have another one"..but that isn't what I wanted. I wanted Fontayne to live..I would have gave my live for her. I never wanted to seem bitter. I kept thinking that if I didn't "BLAME" anyone that life would go on and it would be okay. Life went on...but my thoughts didn't end. I have always wondered if me stopping life support was the right decision.

I remember dancing at my boyfriends family event in Payson...my stomach felt heavy. I didn't know why. I was young...or maybe that is an excuse...I didn't want to dance..it hurt. I went into the bathroom. There wasn't anyone I knew. I still felt the pressure to have Yancy's family accept me. I danced..even though the pressure felt awful. (I have not told anyone this in my life.) We later went home..where I made...what I called at the time love. It was finally more lubricant than it had been...I didn't know...it was blood! We went to the hospital....with Yancy's Mother....we stopped by to tell my Mom...she just said she would meet us. After we arrived at the hospital it was very strange. The Dr's and Nurses didn't want to tell me the truth..I could tell. It is different now days. There wasn't anyone with me...just them and me. I felt so alone. Once they learned of everything I had told them...the truth...they looked at me like I was a whore....having sex with my boyfriend..the father of my child was bad. I felt bad.....

I ended up admitted in the hospital. They told me I would be there until the baby was born. I t was like a confinement. I felt so awful for feeling that way. I wished that I felt different. I told my Mom...if I could just run around this room one time and get back in bed I would be fine....what I didn't know...Then I started coughing. The Dr was of course busy and I was a secondary in their mind. Besides...I was young and I could have another baby...another time when I was older. I asked for a Dr all day. They never came. My Mom stopped by...but she thought I was worried over nothing. I was laying at an angle to keep my baby inside me...I thought are you sure this is no big deal? But she comforted me somehow.

Later that night I had what I thought was a bowel movement...but now I have learned that isn't what happened. I hadn't had a bowell movement in so long they were bugging me every time that I had to go to the bathroom. Of course by now this is like a week later and I have been on my back unable to get out of the bed. I really thought I had a Bowell movement. The nurse immediately called the Dr to find out what was going on. They all came in the room together. I remember it like it was yesterday. The Dr. asked...What happened did you have a bowell movement...and before I could answer..the nurse said "NO"...I was dumbfounded. I didn't know what to say...I looked at her and she looked at me and again she said "NO"...what was I to do? I said I guess no? As soon as I said that the Dr. said we are going to take you into the delivery room and we no longer going to try and stop your labor.

I didn't know what to think..had I pushed the baby out trying to poop? What would I do...the Dr's knew best. They began calling family members. They told me they were going to take my baby and that it would need to be worked on right away. They asked me if I would sign papers to allow administration of a trial medication. They said it would help the baby's lungs. Of course I signed. My mother made it for the arrival of my daughter Fontayne....I remember as they took her across the room and into NICU that my Mom said..."It's a Girl...and they fight harder." I believed her.....then

What I remember from there is sort of a blur.....I remember that the Dr's.... said you need to come and see your daughter while she is alive....she needs you...I did. Then later in the night a Dr. said...we don't think she will live without life support and you need to make a decision. I had to make those decisions every day in the hospital...Do you want to be revived if you die..a living will...and I thought...I wouldn't want to be on life support. I knew...there was life that there was a quality and not a quantity...I stopped life support.... At the ripe age of 19..I alone stopped life support. I am not sure that I will sleep well the rest of my life...but that is the decision that I alone made.

Then Fontayne was gone. They let me see her and hold her and love her. Yancy was there...I just remember me. It was...I am sure the most difficult thing I have ever done. She was still. Breathless. A small little baby that I unfortunately couldn't bring to life....how do you go on. I wondered what to do...there were people all around telling me what to do.

I didn't want to listen to them...then I got to my room. by this time it was full with people. They were talking about obituaries and funerals and all I could think about was that I walked into my room and she didn't. She didn't see the sun. She never got to breathe the fresh air. She didn't get to see a sunset.....they were trying to keep me in the hospital..I couldn't take it...then...I received a bouquet of black balloons...at the time it was devastating. I am sure there wasn't ill intent behind it..yet it was the end of a life to me. It was like deflating my balloon...I could barely breathe...I remember telling the staff that I needed to leave. It took several more hours to actually be released. That was something that I will never remember fully. Thank God!

It only got worse from there. I went through the days of getting her ready for burial..finding a plot....finding a dress and then we had to dress her. What a devastating moment. I still remember her still body. We had bought a dress that was for a doll to make sure it fit. She was so blue...I felt like it was my fault. The days had went by..but not with me. I wondered why...WHY...what did I do! I had quit smoking...no drinking...no drugs..just taking care of my child. Why me?!?

I went through the ceremonial stuff that everyone does when someone dies..but, I am not sure I was there. We picked places, plots, obituaries, clothes and who knows what...I am sure I meant well. I just barely remember..except it happened. I still wonder why!