My name is Andrea Vega; I’m 20 years old, live in San Antonio and am forever heart broken. My story starts in December of 2003. I was a college freshman, working at a daycare. At the time I wanted to be a teacher, I loved kids! I had already been working with special needs children for about 2 years at that point. Before Christmas I started having “female problems”. I had always been heavy, had long heavy periods and when I was about 13 developed Hirtuism. I underwent some testing and it was confirmed I had Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome. After a battery of tests I was told my ovaries were in bad shape and I would probably never conceive naturally. Naturally heart broken I cried for days.

Time went on and my boyfriend at the time (now Hubby, Rene) and I became careless. What was the point we figured, we were monogamous and I was supposedly in no danger of being pregnant. We had fun, A LOT of fun. The first weekend of March 2004 Rene moved into his first apartment. That weekend I stayed over and I had a strange dream. In my dream I had been pregnant and given birth to a baby girl. At the end of my dream my mom (Or at least at the time I thought it was my mom, later I realized it was my grandmother, her and my mom look identical, but my grandma died in 1987) took the baby girl, and told me “I’ll take good care of her, she never want for anything; I need her. Kiss her and say bye bye.” When I woke up I knew I was pregnant. I didn’t say anything to Rene and when I went home that day my sister Michelle came right up to me and asked if I was pregnant. I told her no but went to Wal Mart and bought a pregnancy test! I read on the box that while you can take the test at anytime of day, generally the first morning urine is the most accurate so I decided to wait until the morning.

Monday morning, March 8 2004, I woke up feeling sick to my stomach, like I was going to throw up. Was it morning sickness or anxiety? I peed on the stick and after three minutes still wasn’t sure if it was positive, there was a line but it was sooo faint! I pulled my sis, Michelle, out of bed and she was like oh God, I told you! The line was now hot pink. She asked me if I was going to tell mom. I wasn’t upset and thought my mom would be excited so I was like well yeah! She told me to leave the door open, she HAD to hear this! My mom was vacuuming and I told her if I could talk to her for a minute in the bathroom. She was like, you’re pregnant, aren’t you? How did everyone know if I just barely found out?! She was happy, like I expected and we went to the doctor later that day to get everything confirmed. I was barely 4 weeks pregnant, date of conception: Valentine’s Day. Oddly enough, that is the same day my grandmother (My mom’s mom) passed away in 1987. Rene was naturally happy and flipped out the first time he saw an ultrasound, it became so really for us so soon.

I knew right away Amaya was a girl. Early in pregnancy I was constantly afraid I was going to miscarry as I had constant lower back pain and spotting. The spotting finally stopped at about 13 weeks. By the time May rolled around I had so much baby stuff and I hadn’t even had a shower yet. EDD was Nov. 7. My mom had this kid stocked on blankets, clothes and toys, my grandpa had blown a fortune on expensive gymboree clothes and Rene’s mom bought us a darling bassinet. My baby was growing big and I constantly craved milk and fresh fruit. I would wake up dying for a cold orange.

Summer was a breeze and on July 1 my mom and dad packed up my sisters for a trip to see the family in Michigan. I stayed home and Rene stayed at my house. On July 4th I woke up feeling lousy. I hadn’t slept well the night before because I had so much pressure on my lower back. I took the puppy out to go to the bathroom and took my morning walk. When I got back home I took a shower and while I was shaving my legs I felt weird so I got out of the shower to go to the bathroom. When I got on the toilet I felt something like drop between my legs. I felt down to reach it and started freaking out thinking it was my baby’s head. I was only 22 weeks pregnant! By now it was confirmed a little girl and I was so scared for her. I immediately called the on call doctor. The doc said it was probably nothing but go ahead and come in to be checked out. When I got to the hospital the doctor was doing a C-Section so I had to wait over an hour to see him. In this time I had gone to the bathroom again and this time there was blood in the toilet. I flipped out and prayed the doctor would be there soon. When he finally came Rene was gone to find a bathroom. He went ahead and did the exam without him there for me. Behind that little curtain, by myself the doc looked between my legs and in less that a minute told me, You’re having a miscarriage. Rene walked in just as he said it. We both started crying. I was screaming he was wrong, Im 22 weeks, you don’t miscarry at 22 weeks, save my baby. At this point I was 4.5 cm dialated and fully effaced. I wasn’t having contractions that I could feel. Those didn’t come until I was 9 cms. All day I was on IV medications, trying to stave off labor and mature my baby’s lungs. At about 6 pm I had to give an epidural, my contractions had become painful. There wasn’t any hope…at 7:45 the hospital’s neonatal unit came to my room; my water had just broken and Amaya was coming. At 7:52 our little girl was born.

Despite the neonatal unit’s best efforts my little girl couldn’t be saved, she was only 22 weeks. She was baptized and given to Rene and I. She died in our arms, being hugged and kissed and loved. Those were the hardest moments of my life…being her mommy and not being able to save her. She died at 8:15 pm. She was 1 lb, 0oz and 12.5 inches long. She had beautiful long slender feet, my nose and her daddy’s pouty lips. We able to spend 2 hours holding her that evening. We spent the time talking to her and reading to her from the bible she was given at birth by my mom’s best friend, Lea, whom I had asked to be her Godmother the moment I knew I was pregnant. The next day before I was discharged, and as soon as my mom got to the hospital we got to hold her again. All of us were heartbroken. We left the hospital in the worse heart ache. I physically hurt too, I wanted to die I hurt so bad and I didn’t know if the pain was my heart or my womb.

The following day, Tuesday, my mother, grandfather and Rene went and planned Amaya’s funeral. I stayed at home with Lea and my best friend Jenn, who had driven to San Antonio as soon as her mother called her and told her I needed her. That night I couldn’t sleep, my stomach hurt so bad….I remember thinking how do women who have babies that live take care of them, this is awful!

On Wednesday we buried Amaya. Rene and I went an hour early and we spent it with our little princess. In her casket we put a few things, a Snow White Barbie doll, her first doll! We also gave her a picture of mommy and daddy together, looking very much in love (as we still are) and a small heart gold necklace that was given to me when I graduated high school….I had worn it everyday that I had been pregnant and when I was admitted into the hospital and in labor I had to take it off, so Rene wore it as I gave birth to Amaya. My grandfather also left a small hot wheels car….just a few days before he had been telling how wonderful it would be to buy Amaya her first car, just like he had done for me and my sisters…my mother put in a small pink rosary and my father’s cousin brought Amaya a cute little teddy bear….The service was beautiful and so many family members showed up, my beloved Uncle Pat even flew down from Michigan. The pastor that conducted the ceremony was actually a chaplain we had met in the hospital and he did exactly what we had asked, turn it into a celebration of her life and emphasize our love for her….when it came time to close the casket I wanted to die, I wanted to crawl inside and be buried with my little girl….the same thing happened when we went to the gravesite…we had a short service there and when they interred her I felt my heart being buried. I cried and cried and cried.

After we lost Amaya we discovered I have a condition called Incompetent Cervix. Supposedly its not genetic but my grandmother had it and I have no other risk factors. Once I switched doctors to a high risk/ IC specialist I had a test performs called an HSG which checked my uterus for any other abnormalities. The ruling it I am okay, my cervix is just extremely short and could not hold the pregnancy. In the future I will be on strict bedrest and have a cerclage performed at 12-13 weeks of pregnancy...hopefully with prayers Ill be able to bring Amaya's little brother or sister home.

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