We have been a couple for 11 years and married for 7 years. We are 35 years old and have three children aged 5, 3, and 1 year. We live in a house in the countryside. The mom is a language trainer and the dad works in logistics. Everything was going well until the unthinkable happened to us.
Pregnancy and Delivery
The delivery was induced due to macrosomia, estimating the baby’s weight at 4 kg. Induction began on Thursday with a balloon catheter, tampon, and oxytocin infusion, and the birth occurred on Saturday. The delivery was very heavy and painful. The waters broke late in the evening, marking the beginning of what was my third difficult labor. The contractions were extremely painful and close together, giving the sensation that the baby was there without the midwife being able to see its head. I felt like dying due to repeated drops in blood pressure. The epidural was interrupted to relieve me a bit, but I could not rest. They made me push for more than 30 minutes with no result. I then told my husband that something was wrong and that I might not survive; if he had to choose between the baby and me, he should choose the baby. An obstetrician was called in to make me push again, without success. I was at the end of my strength. An ultrasound finally revealed that the baby was stuck and would never come down. We accepted a green code cesarean more than 6 hours after losing our waters.
Our son was born by cesarean, weighing 4 kg 400 grams. A curtain in front of me prevented me from seeing him. I continued to have drops in blood pressure and trembled all over my body. It was the hardest delivery of my life.
We noticed that they waited a long time before acting to understand why our son wasn’t coming down. They let us suffer for hours with extremely intense contractions every 30 seconds, without the baby descending.
Upon returning home, our son was in our care. We quickly noticed that he easily bruised on his skin (for example, when pressing our fingers to burp him). The medical staff assured us it wasn’t worrying and would improve over time. When he cried, he cried extremely loudly, turned red, and stopped breathing. Doctors explained that these were sobbing spasms and there was no need for concern. However, after these episodes, his eyes were very red with petechiae around the eyes and on the face. He regurgitated a lot, vomited, and writhed in all directions. The medical staff suggested changing his milk and massaging him.
Although the medical personnel were very reassuring, we felt that something was wrong.
The Day Everything Changed
Our son had just turned 2 months old, and we were still worried about these sobbing spasms when he stopped breathing because his eyes would turn red and petechiae appeared on his face. He bruised easily: when he scratched himself with his little nails or when his sister dropped a small bell on his cheek.
At the two-month check-up, I insisted with the doctor. Although not worried, he decided to prescribe blood tests for an assessment, stating there was no urgency.
A few days later, our son was alone with his father during diaper changing. He had just pooped after a tummy massage because he refused his bottle and was safely placed on his back in his crib. He was crying loudly when his father went to get wipes. Upon returning, our son wasn’t crying or moving anymore. His father picked him up, thinking he was dead and panicking. He called out his name, slapping him without result. He then ran to me to warn me. I didn’t understand what was happening until I took my baby in my arms: he was limp. “He’s dead,” I said in panic. I ran to our neighbors with him in my arms, completely frantic. While calling the SAMU, we stimulated our son, calling out and pricking him to react. Talking with the SAMU operator, our son opened his eyes and started whimpering.
The medical dispatcher asked if I wanted/could take him to the emergency room. I replied “yes of course, we’re leaving immediately.”
At the emergency room, they make me wait and then check my child’s vital signs: everything is fine. I feel like I’m going to be sent home with simple instructions to monitor their condition at home. I then start insisting. I show them the doctor’s prescription for a blood test, mention that he stops breathing when he cries hard and that his bruises appear quickly. I also insist on checking his lungs as he has been coughing for several days and his sister recently had a severe pneumonia. A chest X-ray is performed.
When the Diagnosis Fell
After examining the photos and the X-ray, we are told that we will stay under observation for one night. Blood tests are conducted and they monitor him every hour. The next day, an MRI is done. I wait all day without receiving any results. We are then offered to stay another night.
The following day, the previously warm atmosphere changes drastically. A skeletal X-ray is performed. At noon, the pediatrician asks me to meet with my husband and her. I have a bad feeling and am certain that we will be told our baby is seriously ill.
We are invited into an office where three women are present. The doctor asks some questions about the birth and then describes everything found in our son. We are stunned. They tell us that a report has been made. I still believe it means our baby is seriously ill until she says, “we think you did this.” It’s as if the ground beneath our feet disappears, absolute horror.
We are told we must say goodbye to our child and leave the hospital immediately. We don’t understand anything. The pain is so intense that I want to die.
From this moment on, medical staff become abhorrent. We are monsters in their eyes. I am certain they would have spat at us if given the chance.
It has been over a year and part of us is destroyed forever. The trauma is immense.
In the Judicial Machine
We were placed under arrest several months after the incident for 30 hours.
Our son was immediately placed with foster parents for three weeks, then with a trusted third party for a year. Child welfare staff have been incredibly humane. They spent hours explaining the procedures and supporting us.
The legal process is still ongoing.
Our son returned home after a year in care. Since then, no follow-up has been set up for him. We do everything possible to ensure he receives medical and psychological support.
Living with Suspicion
100% of the people who know us have always believed us. There were never any doubts on their part.
Despite this, the emotional storm is immense. Our three children are followed by a child psychiatrist; we parents are treated by therapists specializing in trauma, as well as several members of our close family have been psychologically supported.
Suicidal thoughts regularly come into our heads. Our relationship is strong but we have suffered greatly each in our own way.
The siblings have suffered immensely: eating disorders, sleep problems, and anxiety.
Financially, we used all our savings to pay for legal fees (over 20,000 euros while the process is still ongoing).
We no longer have any long-term plans. Our professional lives were put on hold for months, unable to work at all.
We are still exhausted by this fight. We live in a perpetual state of fear: fear that our son will be taken from us again, fear that our older children will be taken, fear of being imprisoned, fear that every word we say will be used against us, even the simple expression of fatigue (as it has already been reproached to me). We are constantly on high alert. I have lost all faith in justice and trust in the medical community. Perhaps the worst is that I no longer trust humanity.
For consistency across testimonies, this text may have been slightly edited or translated by artificial intelligence. If you notice any error or inconsistency, please don’t hesitate to contact us.
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