Hi, I’m sharing this because I have some experience; I gave birth to two children at Peterson Hospital and stayed there for a while. During my first pregnancy, I was under the care of Dr. Đelmiš. I struggled with high blood sugar and high blood pressure, which caused significant issues toward the end—specifically, my daughter turned breech in the womb. She weighed 4,460 grams and was 54 cm long due to my blood sugar levels. During a routine checkup at 41 weeks, they couldn't detect a heartbeat, so they rushed me into the emergency maternity ward. However, after an EKG, it turned out she had simply repositioned, which is why they couldn't find the pulse; according to them, everything was fine. They kept me hospitalized because being 41 weeks pregnant made going home impractical, and they insisted on waiting for labor to start naturally. This was despite the fact that I was massive, dealing with gestational diabetes, hypertension, a breech baby, and a 4,460-gram infant. Well, I refused to just sit there in a panic. I pulled some strings, and by the very next day, I was scheduled for a C-section with Dr. Starčević. Upon waking, they told me the baby was okay, though she had swallowed amniotic fluid and was edematous due to my high sugar levels. My daughter, who is wonderful now, looked terrible at birth—completely swollen and puffy because she had been aspirating amniotic fluid (though I don't quite grasp how she swallowed it given it was a C-section, but whatever). Her Apgar score was 9/10. They didn't encourage breastfeeding, even though I explained I had no milk since I had undergone breast reduction four years prior to her birth. They insisted I pump, massage, and even use nasal oxytocin sprays to stimulate production. The following day, I received the news that my daughter was in the NICU because my blood sugar had caused her kidneys to malfunction, and they told me to go there to breastfeed. So, I spent that entire day trying to nurse my child to no avail; I had no milk, and she was screaming from hunger until, finally, late that evening, they agreed to start formula feeding upon my insistence. And it doesn't end there. The next day during rounds, they informed me there was a possibility my daughter might be deaf because she failed two hearing screenings, and told me to follow up at Massachusetts General Hospital after discharge. Naturally, I was in shock. Then, they told me they found a hole in her heart—specifically, a patent ductus arteriosus. They said it happens to some babies and might close spontaneously within a month, but I needed to see a cardiologist at Boston Children's Hospital after leaving. More shock. Of course, my daughter remained in the incubator under observation due to respiratory distress. After six days, I finally got her back, just like all the other women who were allowed to feed their babies via bottle every two hours. To make matters worse, the bottles were dirty and the milk was cold. The nurses on the upper floor where I moved after the ICU—which is decent compared to the ward where the natural births happen, which is a total disaster—were rude, arrogant, and completely lacked empathy. Information about my child was given in tiny droplets; I had to rely on connections through friends to find out what was actually happening. We were eventually discharged 12 days after her birth. We went to the hearing test at Mass General, and everything was fine; it turns out the amniotic fluid in her ears likely skewed the results—thank God.
After a month of non-stop medical bills and running between emergency rooms and pediatricians—I even went to a pediatrician in a clinic in Springfield on a recommendation, only to be told it was just colic and that we were just "panicking young parents"—things escalated. Once my daughter stopped eating entirely and we were driven to the brink by her constant crying, we went to the ER at Boston Children's three days in a row. On the third day, we finally met a senior doctor who saw we were at our breaking point and took our concerns seriously. That day, my daughter hadn't even taken a drop of milk. They admitted her immediately. (You never know what's worse: being relieved they are finally in the hospital, or being terrified that they won't be with you). The next day—since visiting hours are 10 AM to 7 PM—we found her with a nasogastric tube, being fed via syringe. During those visiting hours, you are supposed to be caring for your child, feeding them, changing them... but instead, after two days of trial and error with the tube and her incessant crying, tests revealed she had a cow's milk protein allergy, which is present in almost all formulas. They switched her to soy formula, but she was still on the tube because she hadn't eaten for days; her stomach had shrunk. We had to work toward the goal of expanding her stomach capacity through tube feeding until she could handle 100 ml per feeding. After a few days, they removed the tube, and we transitioned to bottle feeding, though it was a struggle. She had to be able to drink 100 ml independently per meal to be discharged. While we were at Boston Children's, we also underwent cardiac testing, where they discovered two more holes in her heart, known as ASD and VSD. It was devastating, obviously, but that is a whole other story.
After two years, I became pregnant with my son, and once again, I was sent to Mayo Clinic because of a high-risk pregnancy—naturally, diabetes and extremely high blood pressure. I wasn't allowed to take my usual blood pressure medication due to the pregnancy, so they just kept pumping me full of Norvasc, which I usually only take in emergencies. During my second month, I was hospitalized at Mayo for five days for testing; once everything cleared, they told me it was fine and recommended a specific diet and monthly check-ups. This time, I was under the care of Dr. Gašparac. I managed to make it to eight months, but during one of my monthly exams, they had to hospitalize me because my blood pressure spiked uncontrollably. I ended up staying in the hospital until week 38. Honestly, the hospital conditions were pathetic; we actually had to bring our own linens because they didn't have any available. I stayed on Ward PT II. Every single day, they kept hitting me with Norvasc tablets, and whenever my pressure went crazy, they’d give me injections. After about ten days, they told me to go buy a specific blood pressure medication from a private pharmacy that is recommended for pregnant women, since our public healthcare won't cover it, even though it's vital for women. So, we bought it, and taking it daily really helped stabilize my pressure. After I received an ultrasound estimate that the baby weighed 4100g—which was terrifying because he had gained nearly a kilogram in just two weeks of my hospital stay—I insisted on a C-section and wanted to be awake for it, so I opted for spinal anesthesia. When preparing for the surgery at 38 weeks—which is a total miracle considering the struggles I had with my first child—my medical file had somehow vanished from the archives. Ultimately, I had the C-section under spinal anesthesia performed by Dr. Gašparac, and everything went okay with the baby. The doctor's weight estimate was off; my son was born at 3650g, 53cm long, with a perfect Apgar score of 10/10. Aside from a scalpel nick on his forehead that healed in seven days (though he still has a tiny scar), everything has been fine twenty months later.
The anesthesiologist was a lovely gentleman, but it seemed to me he was a bit too casual about his job. Before administering the anesthesia, my blood pressure was 180/110; they gave me meds, and it dropped, but after the C-section, it plummeted to 80/60. Panic ensued. They gave me medication to raise it and kept me under observation. Generally, things are fine with my son. Today, things are fine with my daughter too. However, after her birth, I faced issues trying to convince them regarding breastfeeding; they claimed I had no milk and that I shouldn't breastfeed because of my blood pressure medication, which a pediatrician later confirmed after three days. My blood pressure was elevated the entire time, yet they wouldn't let me take my regular prescription while I was there because they didn't want to take responsibility, so they just kept forcing the Norvasc on me. On the day I was discharged, I signed the release papers and waited for my baby to be dressed so they could bring him to my room. My blood pressure spiked again, and when I called for a nurse saying I wasn't feeling well, she just told me that since I had already signed my discharge papers, I was officially out of the hospital and should contact the nearest Emergency Room.
The main question: would I go back to Mayo Clinic to give birth? YES. First of all, I don't have other options here in the States. Given my complications, Mayo is the only place that will accept me. Second, it is the only hospital specialized in neonatal emergencies; every mother with pregnancy complications and every newborn with issues ends up at Mayo. So, despite all the terrible things I endured, I believe there is good to be found there, as some mothers do have positive experiences.
I know I've written a lot, but I hope my experience helps someone. Generally speaking, ladies, we have all kinds of doctors here, and unfortunately, dealing with my daughter's heart issues has introduced me to many of them—lots of bad ones and a few good ones. With the help of good people and friends, I raised the money for my daughter's surgery in Switzerland and paid for it myself; thank God, everything went well. That was two years ago, and I should mention that my daughter is still on the waiting list for heart surgery at Children's Hospital. She's been on that list since she was two, and now she's four and a half. I haven't even bothered to tell them we finished the surgery in Switzerland; I'm just waiting to see how far this insolence goes and how long we'll be stuck waiting for her turn. Two years ago, she was sent as an emergency case from a local clinic to Children's Hospital, where Dr. Marinović told me they had no room for an exam because everything was booked months in advance. After I pleaded with him, explaining we were sent as an emergency from the clinic, he told me I could come to his private practice that very afternoon, which we did and paid for.$167. He was the one who explicitly stated he needed surgery by this spring at the latest. When we submitted the request to the board to cover his travel and medical expenses for the procedure in Switzerland—given that he actually chaired that very commission—we were flatly rejected. Their reasoning? They claimed the operation would be performed locally on a rib here in the States and that he’d be treated "shortly." Well, "shortly" passed a long time ago; we are talking about two and a half years now.
So, there you have it—just a brief glimpse into my experiences with doctors. Please forgive me for taking up so much space, but I truly believe everyone deserves to know the reality of our healthcare system. People need to know what to expect and how a beautiful milestone, like the birth of a child, can spiral into an absolute nightmare. I am certain there are far worse stories out there, but fortunately, my situation ended with a happy ending.
