Name: Cyterria
Pronouns: She/Her/Hers
Snapshot: Cyterria is a mother that has experienced injustice in the healthcare industry. She recounts her last pregnancy experience, her struggles to feel heard by medical professionals, and describes her ongoing journey dealing with perinatal loss.
Content Warning: loss, trauma, and sensitive images
How were you connected with POEM Rise?
I was told about POEM through the WIC Program.
Tell us about your pregnancy and postpartum journey. How did your experiences impact your mental health?
My brother passed away last year, June 30th. Before his death, on the 14th, I found out I was 6 weeks pregnant. I was initially upset because I already had three kids, and the youngest was 13. I love kids, but I wasn’t financially, mentally, or emotionally ready for another one. But, you know how when someone dies, a baby becomes the next blessing? So we were getting excited for the baby’s birth and welcoming another member of the family. I was told I had a subchorionic hematoma, so I started to research what that was. I found out it is extremely rare to harm the baby, so the doctors wouldn’t do anything about it. Just in case, I still went to the doctor any time something felt off. They said I might bleed – and I did, and cramped – so not to be scared if that happened. I went to the ER at least 6 times during my pregnancy due to bleeding and cramps. The last visit, they said the hematoma had gotten larger, not smaller, but nothing was done. By that time I found out I was having a boy. They still said not to worry. I kept going to the ER and getting ultrasounds while there, but they failed to keep checking up on me. My OBGYN at the time was at Mt. Carmel Grove City. The doctor never checked my ultrasound to monitor the subchorionic hematoma when I had appointments. Also, I saw a different doctor almost every time. The only place monitoring the hematoma was the ER when I went in for bleeding or cramps. One day, I was having contractions so I went to the ER. They said I wasn’t having contractions but I have had 3 kids and a miscarriage, so I know exactly what contractions feel like. Another day, I was having heavy contractions and bleeding a lot. I went to the ER. Baby was fine. They said I was having Braxton-hicks. They observed me for a while and sent me home. I went home and had contractions from September 30th to October 4th. The hospital kept sending me home. Then my mucus plug fell out one day. They said it was probably the lubrication from the vaginal ultrasound wand, but they finally asked me to come in. They checked me, said everything was fine, and my cervix had not softened. Thankfully, another doctor decided to check me before I went home and said I was already 1 cm dilated. She told me they would probably not be able to save the baby, and I would be giving birth most likely today. They wanted to see if they could put a pin in to stop the dilation. I continued to dilate, and they could no longer put the pin in. The doctor said that the hematoma was pushing the placenta out. I received an epidural but it never worked on the left side. A few hours passed. Doctors came to check me, and the baby was already out with the placenta. I didn’t feel him come out because of the epidural. They gave him to me and I held him while he passed, surrounded by doctors.
I felt like I was let down because I had been reaching out all that time, and nobody helped me. If they had been on their job, this would not have happened like that. I felt like I was failed by doctors, and I don’t think I can ever get over that. I tried my best for my son, and to be let down like that was horrible. Now I struggle with anxiety and depression. I lost a friendship because my friend was pregnant with a boy at the same time as me, and I couldn’t bear to be around them right after. I still struggle when I see babies and baby stuff. The hospital kept calling me after my son passed to “remind” me of ultrasound appointments because they never updated their system. They actually lost my son’s body so it took them a while to find it. I had to call the coroner, the funeral home, etc to find his body, while freshly grieving the loss. His name was JaQuan Quintel Addison. He passed October 4th, 2021. 9:38pm.
Were there any forms of support you found beneficial to you in your journey?
I found a lot of support through the POEM program. Ms. Hailee and Ms. Cass are my angels.
Are there any words of wisdom or encouragement that you’d like to offer other birthing persons?
As a mother, if you feel something is wrong, don’t let anyone tell you differently. Make somebody do something. You know your body, and you know if something is wrong. Push the limit. Never give up.
