Dear Italy

I am sorry.

I am sorry for the decisions you are being forced to make regarding people's lives. I am sorry to those of you who aren't even being given an option in the matter. I am sorry for the pain and sorrow you are feeling surrounding uncontrollable loss and loss you feel could have been prevented, halted or delayed.

I am sorry, and I at least in part, understand.

Spencer, despite all his many issues, essentially passed away because of a the combination of those conditions and how much they exacerbated something involving his vocal cords.

A condition only seen in older kids and/or adults with lifetime asthma, sleep apnea, similar conditions first. Our team had not seen it in a newborn.

The other conditions he had made it worse.

But essentially, when he was anything other than calm and/or happy, his vocal cords would close and he would stop breathing. He got agitated by something and started crying- he would stop breathing. Something hurt, same thing. He was in a slightly off position, same thing.

At first it was minimal and we could 'stun' him out of it with blowing on his face or adjusting his direction. Rubbing his belly, rocking him. It was quick and then over.

But as time went on, it got worse. And there is and was no cure. Older kids and adults can usually be taught techniques to help calm down, relax their throats, etc. Newborns? Not so much, and his other conditions made his muscles weaker than normal and there were other factors that were going to make it near impossible to help him control it.

Towards the end, it wound up, none of that would matter. The small tricks were not working, and he was having spells of not breathing lasting longer and requiring intervention on a regular basis.

So, I know what respiratory issues and fear look like. I know what it looks like when you don't understand how there are no fixes, or how there might be something that could delay the inevitable, but that the inevitable would still occur.

We were lucky in that the hospital had the ability to help us and we had the ability to make decisions. But the decisions we were able to make, were not ones that could have saved his life.

I know what it is like to walk into a hospital thinking you are going in for one thing, and leave having lost life.

I do not know what it is like to have to make decisions for those you are meant to serve, or having no say in what decisions are made.

But I do understand holding your loved ones while some random, uncertain, misunderstood thief takes their breath from them.

I do understand that it is not peaceful and quick like the movies. I do understand that the loss is gut wrenching and never one you forget even the slightest.

Italy, and all the others who might be hit by this Pandemic and be put in similar situations where choice is no longer, and loss is through a horrible goodbye. Know that we see you. Some of us understand you. We all grieve with you.

From this mama who has lost, and who is currently checking on her toddler sleeping, and who is 5 weeks away from welcoming a new life, that right now I am hoping against everything comes home happy, healthy and without a respiratory worry in the world. I see more than you know.

I just hope I am making the right decisions for now to help see the child I am expecting and the one who counts on me daily, into what feels like an unknown and unstable future.

Everyone deserves a little more compassion right now. Extra care and understanding. Love, support, and let's be honest some action by those who have the ability to enact large enough action that it can truly impact everyone for the good.

Everyone has their own thoughts here, but I would hope we can at least all agree that human life is of value and what is happening to require actual value be placed on it, is heartbreaking, unthinkable, horrible to say the very least.

Everyone has their own choices to make, but as someone who has made the ultimate choice involving a child, know that what you do can matter, and that no one will be perfect here, and we all are unsure and just hoping for the best. Look out for each other, we're all in this together-as apart as we may be.