I was just thrilled to be pregnant again. My daughter was 5 yo and I wanted
                                a boy so bad. I had the Norplant removed in October of 1995 and became
                                pregnant in December of 1995. Everything was going great. I had a six week
                                ultrasound to see actually how far along I was. By my calculations I was
                                right. We heard the heartbeat (and saw it). I had my 10 week check-up and
                               everything was fine. Went in for my 14 week check-up and they couldn't find
                               a heartbeat. I was so scared. I was by myself (boyfriend at home with my
                               daughter). They had me go to the hospital for an emergency ultrasound. On
                               the way there I heard a song that will be my son's song forever - Go Rest
                               High On That Mountain - Vince Gill.( now playing) I cried so hard. Wanting so
                               bad for this to be a bad dream.
 
                              I got to the hospital and waited for about a half an hour to do the
                              ultrasound. That was horrible. I had it done and the technician didn't say
                              anything. She wasn't allowed without the doctor being there. I couldn't see
                              the monitor. So I didn't know what was going on. I was released. I waited
                              again I swear forever. Probably another half an hour or so. The doctor came
                              and said I am sorry your baby has passed on. (I don't think I would want
                              that job). I cried and cried. Had to call my boyfriend. He rushed down and
                              my best friend had just called before he left and met him down there and
                              took my daughter so I could deal with it.
 
 

 

  
                              They said he passed on at about 11 weeks. Nobody knows what exactly
                              happened to Dominick. We had him buried at a cemetery where a lot of our
                              relatives have been buried. His grandmother bought the plot. I am so
                              grateful to her. I was scheduled to be induced on March 23, 1996. That was
                              horrible to go through the labor and have nothing to show for it. He was
                              born at 7:44 that night. Weighed 1.6 ounces and was 10 inches long.
  
                              We buried our son on March 26, 1996. That had to be one of the coldest
                              days that year. We buried him next to a mountain.
  
                              It took us a while but on Thursday, May 7, 1998, his headstone was put on.
                              It took us awhile to save it up. But we did it. Now the world knows all
                              about Dominick Joseph Francis.