The night a family is ruined.

I'm not sure what I'm feeling. 

Sadness. Anger. Shame. Worried. Guilt. Concern. 

All blended into some kind of emptiness inside me. I feel sluggish. My arms weak. 

Everything time I was part of the chain of events that lead to somebody's demise, in this case a 2-day old infant, I cannot help but feel responsible, as anyone would. Was my part in this chain significant in his demise. The typical answer I get from others was that "it's not your fault". But the honest answer would be that you are always somewhat responsible. Things happen in a sequence, and having had a hand in it makes you involved. 

And as medical people, we always want to think that disasters are avoidable. I'm never quite sure what the actual answer is. To some extend, there can always be more that could have been done. The catch is that we were never aware of this before hand. 

This isn't the first time I was intimately involved in someone's death. This is also the second time that this has happened just before the holiday season. Every time this happens, I try to reflect on my role in the whole sequence. What could I have done differently, what did I do wrong?

Every time, I sit with the determination that I don't want anything like this to ever happen again. 

But shit always happens, even if it's different kinds of shit. 

Last night wasn't about my place in the sequence, or our medical team's involvement. It was about that poor family and their 2-day-old infant. That poor mother and father and older sister whose lives will be forever marred by this tragedy. Christmas will never be the same for them. Life will never be the same. For a very long time to come, their lives are completely ruined. 

Just imagine what they have to bear with when they continue to receive heart-felt congratulations for their newborn from around the world and as they open presents after presents of baby things coming their way this Christmas. 

I don't know what to think. I don't know what to feel. 

I'm so very, very sorry.