I was very young when I had Brandon; I was 20. After he was born I got very sick in the hospital and the doctors did every test on me to find out what was wrong. They had said it was a virus. They gave me antibiotics and then released me after keeping me 1 more day. I was very sick and delusional and I couldn't hear very well. Everything sounded so far away but yet the doctors still insisted on me breastfeeding him.
I took Brandon home; he was healthy. He got sick 2 weeks after I brought him home and I brought him to the doctors WHO said he was fine, he simply had a cold. The diarrhea and vomiting continued and he didn't want to eat. The next day he was pale white and stared up at the ceiling. I would like to think he was already in heaven, he suffered badly. He was 17 days old. He died Oct 12,1992, 8 days before my birthday. When I brought him back to the same clinic the day he died they said sit down and wait your turn so I sat down near this lady and I started to cry. I realized how sick he was at that point and I had asked the lady if his finger nails where supposed to be blue like they were an she said no bring him up there and show the doctors. I walked up there and the doctor said to the nurse see why mom is crying and i put Brandon on the counter so the nurses could see him and the nurse escorted me to the back to examine him. After they called the ambulance to bring him to the hospital, they still had me trying to breastfeed him. He refused to eat. After the spinal tap and other tests it seemed like hours I had waited in the room. He turned blue. I asked the nurse if that was normal and she said wait here I will go get the doctor. When they came in the room they said code blue he had stopped breathing. The doctors asked me to leave the room and then started asking me questions like had I moved him or anything; I said no. They soon brought him to the ICU where he stopped breathing again and they revived him and then again soon after so i didn't see him after they took him up to the intensive care unit. He died the second time he stopped breathing.
I held him for awhile in a rocking chair. I was devastated. I still mourn for him wondering why? Why not me? Why god did he have to suffer? So, today he would be 15 years old. This is the story of Brandon Michael Younkin. I would like to thank every-one for their love and caring support after he died and thank you for the beautiful cards.