Sometimes I wish this life that I am living wasn’t mine. I wish that things had turned out how they were supposed to.
I feel more than ever that I am living a life that isn’t meant to be this way. We have been actively trying to get some answers as to what happened. We finally received those answers, but they are not easy ones to hear. At all.
As I’ve mentioned in the past, especially in my post Justice for Finley, we decided to seek legal advice. Somehow we managed to get put in contact with lawyers who have experience in medical negligence, wrongful death and military scenarios. I will forever be thankful to the local law firm who took the time to refer us; I had no idea who we should go to or who would be able to handle such an intricate case.
After the initial contact, we sent off all of the medical records. Mine and Finley’s. And we waited. Finally I received a phone call and my gut instinct was that they didn’t think we had a case. But I was wrong. My heart rose up into my throat and I started crying as soon as we were advised they were going to represent us. I asked her to wait before she explained everything, and called Steve in the room. She explained everything over speakerphone while both Steve and I asked questions. I asked what they were stating as the main points defending our case and I was not at all surprised at her answer. In my heart I’ve known all along, and I’m so glad I trusted myself and pursued this.
Cue more waiting while they went through every detail of the days surrounding the events that took place. Somehow I managed to put it all to the back of my mind for a little while.
Last Tuesday we received the documents for signing. I was not prepared for what I would read or how terrible things actually were. Page after page of details far worse than I ever could have imagined. All made worse by the lies and the way things were so poorly handled by the “professionals” on every front. My poor baby.
I feel that for the time being I won’t share the details on the blog; I don’t want to jinx anything or hinder the process in any way. But know that I am so, so relieved that I didn’t let up in my quest for justice for our son. Our incredibly beautiful Finley, who should be here with us today, nearly two years old and keeping us on our toes.
I would love it if you could all keep us in your thoughts in the coming weeks and months. The legal process could take a year and nothing is a guarantee.
I find myself struggling a lot with anger; anger that is so forceful it feels as though it will consume me sometimes; anger born out of a mother’s love for her child. It is as though the grief has come all over again, only this time with a rage alongside it that I haven’t figured out how to deal with yet. It terrifies me. I am sure that now we know what happened, it will take time to come to terms with everything. But I am hoping that in knowing what happened, I can rest easier once the initial enslaught of emotion has subsided a bit, and finally start to heal knowing that I did everything that I could for my son.