Another sleepless night.
Between pumping, crying, and trying to quiet my thoughts, I eventually fell asleep, but only after completely breaking down.
I don’t even know how to fully describe how I feel. My fiancé is still on the road, somewhere on the west side of the country. I know he’s working hard to support us, especially with everything happening so unexpectedly… but right now, I just need him here.
And I’m angry.
I know I shouldn’t be—but I am.
Family and friends keep reaching out, calling, texting, and checking in. But I don’t want to talk to anyone.
I don’t want comfort from anyone else. I just want him.
After what felt like forever—almost 27 hours—the doctor finally called with Eloira’s scan results.
I listened carefully. I took notes. But my mind… couldn’t keep up.
The doctor explained that Eloira has bleeding in her brain. What they called the Germinal Matrix Hemorrhage (GMH) and Intraventricular Hemorrhage (IVH).
Different grades. Different levels of severity. Some areas are less severe. Some more serious. There’s also fluid buildup… swelling… pressure.
Words that felt heavy. Words that didn’t feel real.
Even after the call, when I read back my notes, I still couldn’t process it.
I sat there in disbelief. Feeling regret. Feeling guilt. Feeling like somehow… this was my fault.
At one point, my thoughts went to a very dark place. A place I don’t even want to put into words.
Today felt like a day sent from hell.
The Eloira Effect 