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I want to start by saying thank you for all the well-wishes for Bruno and his sister. The transplant went well, and we are still waiting to hear whether or not it was successful. Switching gears...This time of year brings with it a lot of emotions. It was 3 years ago on 9/23 that I was admitted to the hospital on bedrest with Marco at 27w 5d. I remember the day like it was yesterday. As I make my journey through the 2 week “countdown” until Marco’s angelversary, I’ve been reflecting a bit. Although I did harbor a healthy dose of “mommy guilt” surrounding Marco’s diagnosis (which is still unknown) and death, I do believe in my heart that there’s really nothing that could have saved him or prevented what happened from happening. Yes, we could have pushed the doctors to pursue heroic measures to prolong his life. Bruno and I were faced with a decision no parent wants to make. We decided that we would let him go, so that he did not have to live a life of suffering. While reflecting on that, it made me realize that I am extremely grateful for having been admitted to the hospital on bedrest for the 2 weeks before I had Marco. The admission was the result of a second opinion. Had we not sought the second opinion, I would have been monitored on an outpatient basis by the perinatologist I was already seeing 2 times per week by having biophysical profiles and NSTs. Because I was hospitalized however, Marco was being monitored multiple times per day. If it weren’t for that, we may not have caught that he was in distress as early as we did, and he might have died in utero. We then would have missed out on those precious 4 hours that we had with him here, alive with us. For the last 3 years, I have held onto anger toward the doctor who we saw for that second opinion, the one who admitted me that day. She was a little lady, sitting at a very large desk. Bruno and I were across the desk. She was telling us horrible things. Things that I was afraid I would hear. She told us not only that she agreed with the other doctors’ findings (we had seen so many doctors by that point), but that she noted an additional finding that indicated that Marco would most likely be “severely mentally retarted”. Of course the content of what she was saying was extremely upsetting, especially because even though deep down I didn’t think I’d hear anything different, I was hopeful that she’d say the other doctors had all been wrong. The content did not make me angry at her, however. Rather, it was the way she delivered the information. While she was telling us her assessment, her hospital cell phone rang at least 4 or 5 times. And she answered it. Each time. In the middle of telling us this news. While I was in tears. She acknowledged that she should turn off the phone, but never did. It just kept ringing, and she kept answering. Bruno and I were hurt, to say the least. She delivered very sensitive information to us while allowing interruptions. What I realized with all this reflection, is that I feel grateful for this doctor. Ok, yes, her bedside manner was seriously lacking. That is a fact, and I still upsetting. BUT, had it not been for her, I may not have been admitted to the hospital on bedrest. What if I had seen a different doctor in that practice that day? What if that doctor didn’t think Marco even had a chance, and didn’t think it was medically necessary for me to be admitted? I wasn’t in pre-term labor, so that’s not the reason I was put on bedrest. I was put on bedrest because of the pressure in the umbilical cord. The perinatologist that I had seen just the week before didn’t seem to think I needed bedrest – he never even brought it up as an option. So – to bring this all together – what I am feeling right now is gratefulness. I am grateful for this doctor. I am grateful that it was her opinion on that day that I be admitted for close observation. Because of that, I had 4 hours with my son while he was alive. Because of her, I was able to give my son a bath and get him dressed while he was alive. Because of her, I got to hold him on my chest with Bruno by my side while he passed. Thank you, Marco for helping me find a new perspective. I am so grateful for those hours that I had with you. I will never forget it. I love you, son.