What a Lucky Baby, Our Experiences in NICUMay 18 '06 Write an essay on this topic.
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I had the strangest delivery. I delivered my daughter at noon in a teaching hospital. There was a huge crowd of student nurses, and doctors. There were probably about 15 in the OR. I had signed and agreed to have the students in the OR. I was so nervous, I figured the more the merrier. My OB care was very thorough, with the exception of my OBGYN informing me 3 days before I delivered, that she had made a mistake, and had allowed me to take Zoloft during the course of all three trimesters. She informed me that my daughter may have to spend a few days in NICU experiencing withdrawal symptoms. She also informed me 3 days before the surgery(repeat C-section), that she would not be delivering the baby, but rather another doctor would be performing the surgery. This upset me quite a bit, and I was glad someone else would be performing the surgery. The doctor stood in front of me as the students each took a turn making the insision, and whatever else they do down there during the C-section. I was amazed on how nervous some of the students were, and also the amount of passion they had for their job. All was well, and were they shocked when the baby came out. She was HUGE.. 10.6 pounds in fact. I got to see the baby for just a split second. She came out green. Apparently she had swallowed some of her meconium. The head pediatrician slammed her hand down on the table and told the student nurses to be quiet and listen. My little baby did not cry, rather she was grunting. She could not breathe. The pediatrician came up to me and tried to explain why she needed to take her to the 3rd level NICU. I told her to explain it to me later, and to take her NOW! She did, and she thanked me. It turned out that things were much worse. They found out that she had a condition called: Persistent Pulmonary Hypertension in Infants. I was not sure what this all ment, but I knew that it did not sound good. I figured that we would be at a critical point for a few hours until they were able to stabilize her breathing, and then everything would turn out fine. Little did we know. One of the happiest days of my life, felt like a cruel joke. Right away we were signed to a caseworker. I had no idea. She came in and asked me if we wanted to room in at the Ronald McDonald House. I had never heard of it before, and I just wanted her to go away. I declined her offer, and she insisted she put us on the waiting list. I agreed, just so she would go away. Little did we know that we would be looking for that social worker, and would need to stay at the Ronald McDonald House. All I wanted was to see my baby. The March of Dimes came in and brought me a few things, one thing in particular was a photo of my baby. I did not know how much I would appreciate that photo. It turns out I spent more time with that photo than I ever did with the baby. The doctors came and explained to me what was wrong. I did not understand to much about what was going on. The minute they told me she had to be hooked up to life support, was all I needed to breakdown. I finally went in to see her briefly after a few days. I was not allowed to touch her, make ANY noise, or let her know in any way that I was there. They were afraid her heart rate would go up to high, and she would have a heart attack. This went on for over a week. The first time I saw her, I wanted to die. I blamed myself for her condition. She had a tube down her throat, pic lines going every which way, and IV's going full force. She had a line in her belly button. She spent the first week on the ventilator, and had to be given Nitrous Oxide gas in order for her to survive. She was not doing so great and the Doc's came once again, to tell me about a procedure called ECMO, which is basically an artificial lung built outside of the body. After a week of being on the ventilator, and having the gases administered, she was not getting better. They wanted me to think about having the ECMO, and we were going to evaluate her overnight to see if anything changes. A few days earlier my mother came and asked us if it would be ok if her priest came up to baptise the baby. Well, my hub was raised Baptist, and he did not feel it was necessary, although he did not say no. The day the doctor came in and mentioned about the ECMO, was the day that we almost lost her. I wanted to make a small visit with the baby, and was not allowed. I was told she was not doing well at all. I called the family. Hub and I agreed to having her baptised, and infact was willing to let his pastor, and any of the families pastors come to pray over her, no matter what the denomination was. The priest came, and the doctor would not allow her to be baptised. He was afraid the water would make her heart rate go up, and asked us not to do it. So rather, the Baptist Pastor, and the Catholic Priest both went in and said prayers over her. The whole family went home and prayed. I prayed all night long. She was put on several prayer lists. The doctor taking care of her stayed with her all night. I had a meeting the next day with the doctor. To my surprise, she started to do better. He ruled out the ECMO, and told me she was very lucky, and he was glad he did not have to perform that procedure. He said that the prayers must have worked. I believe that. I also believe that doctor deserves a medal. I never even knew his name, or was able to thank him. He was a busy man. I never seen him after that. The baby spent a total of 3 weeks in 3rd level NICU, and then an additional 2 weeks in the regular NICU. During this course of time, we spend the entire time at the Ronald McDonald house. I met people with problems that you could not imagine. The courage, the strength, the saddness... I can't explain it. Some left with their babies, some did not. Some had longer journeys than others. I can't begin to tell you how this experience has touched me. The parents that stayed at the Ronald McDonald House would come in after spending sometimes as long as 12 or 13 hours at the hospital. While each of us were consumed with our own child and problems, we were able to support each other, and find the strength to hold out our hands and offer a bit of compassion. I made friends with a woman who had to quit her job, and she moved into the RMH for about 7 months because her child was so sick. We were so excited for her because she was a "long timer." She did her time at that hospital, and she had informed us on Friday, that on Monday she would be taking her child home. We were so happy for her. She and her baby deserved so much happiness and life to enjoy..... Her child ended up contracting Pnuemonia on Saturday, and died early Monday morning. What a cruel joke. I think we cried more than she did. I can't even begin to imagine... She was getting ready to go back home, and she started to walk out with the empty stroller. She looked at the stroller for several minutes. She reached in her purse and pulled out a teddy bear she had bought for her baby. She brought the bear and the stroller in, and she gave it to a woman who was getting ready to bring her baby home. I couldn't take it. I went to my room and had a good cry. We were so happy when we saw couples leaving the RMH with their now healthy babies and children. The ones that left empty handed brought about so much sadness for all of us. We all developed a bond. All of us, no matter what color we were, what religion, or what differences we had, we came together. Whether we were younger or older parents, whether it was a cancer treatment, a burn victim, a birth defect or any numerous reasons one can find themselves here, there was one thing we all felt. There was a feeling of helplessness, while our loved one was fighting for their lives. I was amazed to see a young man and his wife that were in a gang, actually break down in tears, when the "Enemy," came and offered her compassion and hugs while they went through their struggles. All of the worries we once had, or the problems we had endured prior to this experience, meant so little now. All of the little things just dissolved. After they took the life support off of my daughter, we spend the next few weeks trying to teach her how to take a bottle. She could not figure out how to suck, I am assuming the tube that she had down her throat for so long had something to do with that. I know that the feeding tube surgery was not as big as the possible ECMO she almost had, but I felt that she had been through enough. I was there for each and every feeding except during the late nights due to our curfew at the RMH. We tried to bottle feed. We were lucky to get 2ML down her by mouth. Each end every day she refused to suck, and they had to place her formula down her nose through a tube. We were grabbing at straws for many days trying different bottles, and exercises. The Doc came in and said we need to think about having the surgery for the feeding tube. We prayed and prayed once again. One day she went from drinking a few ML to drinking a full 60 ML. WOW.. this was great!! She was spared once again from surgery. I was so scared. I remember when the nurse called and told me it was time that my baby finally left the hospital. After 5 weeks, I couldn't not believe that day was finally here. We packed up and stopped by the RMH to say goodbye. I can't begin to tell you how that felt. I was so happy, and so sad at the same time. Everyone came and gathered around the baby. Everyone was so happy for us. I don't understand how some found the strength to be happy for us. I just wanted to hug them all and take their pain away. I feel so bad I can't forget the faces, the stories, the pain, and the happiness I experienced for others. I thank God for the Ronald McDonald House, and the generous people who take the time to make this place happen for parents in need. I thank God for the March of Dimes, they were the first ones on the scene. The Girl Scouts came and brought us pictures they colored. You would not believe how much that meant to us after spending hours in the hospital with heartache. Churches came and provided parents with dinners sometimes in the evenings. Elderly women got together and made quilts for each and every child in NICU level 3. I remember in the midst of looking at all of the scary tubes and wires coming from my baby, I noticed such a beautiful quilt laid at her bedside. It brought a moment of comfort. The hours I spent with out her, having just a small picture meant so much. I thank the hospital, the doctors, the nurses, and the strangers who helped lend a hand to save my daughter and provide us with comfort. We are lucky.. I am lucky to have been blessed once again. She is doing WONDERFUL now!! Here is a link to see her first photo from birth: http://www.jpegwizard.com/view.asp?File=519200623425AM9767  |
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