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On May 8th 2006 my daughter Camila Amalia died in utero at 41 weeks of my pregnancy.

After having gone through a painful birth experience with my 1st child, I wanted to be in control of this pregnancy. I wanted the best for Camila & I. Camila's gestation was uneventful altogether. At 41 weeks, during my last visit to the doctor, I was seen by a Midwife who "stripped my membranes" & told me to go home and to only go to the hospital if I had contractions.

3 days later I went to the hospital with contractions & because I wasn't feeling Camila move. We waited for about an hour. No one checked the baby's vitals, just my pulse. Finally I was called into triage, I laid on a cold, sterile bed and the nurse searched for Camila's heartbeat with the Doppler. She found nothing & left the room. In an interval of 1/2 hour, 3 different doctors came in & out with ultrasound machines & no news.
Finally, they all stepped in & began uncomfortable smalltalk about my son Salvador, I interrupted them & begged them for some answers to their mysterious behaviour. One looked at the other & said "you want to tell her?". The woman came to my bedside & said "I'm so sorry, your baby has no heartbeat".

Those words brought on the most searing pain I have ever experienced in my life. My heart pounded as if it wanted to explode out of my chest & I wailed moans of despair and sorrow, wails that I had never heard come out of a human mouth before. My husband trembled with devastation and meanwhile our son watched both of his parents; his pillars of safety; crumble to pieces as no child should ever see.
Our daughter was dead, she died inside me, under my care & I didn't even notice. I had another cesarean because Camila was breached and it posed a danger to my life. Camila was born weighing 9 pounds 3 ounces & was 22 inches long. My husband & I held her in our arms for little while that seemed to flow in a slow motion. I had a few minutes alone with her. I checked her from head to toe, she was breathtaking. I held her in every way possible, smelled her, kissed her chubby cheeks & sang her a song. On the rest of my days on earth, I would never again get to do all these things with her since she was to never open her little eyes.

If love could resuscitate people, she would've come back to life just from all the love I felt for her.

We buried Camila on May 12. It was surreal and debilitating to spend those hours preparing for a

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