By the time Wes got back the room at 11:30am, I was fully dilated and pushing. This is when the fun got started. From 11:30-12:30pm we pushed together and experienced the wonder of childbirth. It was truly an exhilarating process, and Wes and I have great joy in remembering that time. We saw a dark head of hair and new our son would be with us soon. The NICU staff was coming to the room because we knew Will was at high-risk because of the meconium. Our hope was that the delivering doctor (Dr. Joanne Meyers) and the NICU staff would be able to suction any of the meconium fluid before Will took his first breath. As soon as Will came out we were elated and waited joyfully to see what our 10 months of waiting would bring us. He was beautiful as the labor and delivery staff convinced Wes to cut the cord :)
Quickly he was given to the NICU staff to get started working, and that's when things started going downhill. Pretty much at that point I was clueless as to what was going on. I heard Will crying and the staff talking, but I couldn't see anything. Soon I would begin to hear and see all the things that you never hope to see in your delivery room. Wes's face looked concerned and confused as the staff kept working. They weighed and measured him (7lbs, 8oz, 20 inches) and got his feet print, and I was hoping that I would be able to see him soon. They wrapped him and brought him over to me for about 30 seconds, and as I looked into his beautiful eyes I realized that something was also wrong. He was grunting and gasping for each breath as I was holding him...that was something I had heard should not be happening. We were blown away to finally see our son, but I have to admit that that was one of the most terrifying moments of my life as well.
They quickly took him from my lap and back over to the table for some observation. The NICU doctor (Dr. Gudoy), came into the room and listened to his chest. I heard him say, "that is not good", and my heart began to ache. I could then see that they had gotten a breathing bag out to cover his nose and mouth and began to breath for him. Seeing his little belly bounce in and out with each compression was more than I could handle, and at that point I broke down. Something was terribly wrong.
They told us that he was having trouble breathing and they needed to get him to the NICU as soon as possible. They also said they may have to intubate him, and I just lost it. Wes came over and held me as we cried together. While that was a terrible moment, it is also a moment I will never forget with my husband. He is truly my hero and strength. He told me "Jesus will take care of him" again and again. We looked and saw they had brought in a oxygen enclosed case and quickly he was put in the box and whisked away. I was heart broken.
Wes went in the hallway as his family watched Will be rolled by into the NICU. All the doctor told Wes was that his breathing problems were substantial. Dazed, confused, and scared, Wes and I waited in the room as the doctor was finishing stitching me up. The doctor told us that they would not be able to give us an update for about 45 minutes, so all we could do was wait. I don't remember much about that time, but there was a voice that I remember. Michelle, my nurse, was talking to me throughout the whole ordeal so calmly and reassuring. She said, "I'm so sorry this is not what you expected or how you visioned this moment". She was grieving with me which was really meaningful to have someone there with me. Wes asked if I would be OK for him to go check and see what he could find out about Will...he wasn't going to leave me. I wanted to see what we could find out, so I told him to go ahead. As the room stirred around me with cleaning and straightening, I sat in bed alone.
Not too long, I heard Wes call in and ask if I wanted friends to come in. Jenna Moyer, Amy Barry, and Nicole Richardson came in to pray with me and be with me during this very emotional time. I asked if we could pray, and their comfort and care was very special.
Wes had gone and seen Will in the NICU and took some of his first pictures. At that point they had put a tube in Will's stomach and his head was covered with a oxygen case at 50% oxygen to help him breath more normally. They had taken his first chest x-ray at about 2:00pm and we were waiting to hear the results. Wes came back to my room as we waited together to hear from the doctor. At around 2:30 the NICU doctor (Dr. Gudoy) came into the room and the first words he said were, "This is very serious...very serious." He told us they would put a oxygen hood on him because he had ingested a good bit of meconium into his lungs. If he saw improvements with the hood then they would not have to intubate him. At that point we knew that Will would be in the hospital 7 days in order to take antibiotics to prevent an infection in his lungs. They would have to wait at least 48 hours before we could feed him anything, so he would have IV fluids and a tube to his stomach. As quickly as the doctor arrived he was gone, and Wes and I were left reeling with this information. It felt like a huge punch in the stomach with very little hope or encouragement. The rug had been ripped out from under us. While we were in shock, neither of us felt hopelessness. Wes had remembered his surrender earlier to God, and he felt peace that Jesus would take care of Will, no matter what the outcome.
His main concern at that point was for me. My family was driving down from Kentucky and Tennessee, so we knew they would not arrive until later that evening. I think God allowed me a level of heavenly shock, so that I didn't really remember or know what was happening. With the epidural wearing off I decided to shower to try to feel better, but getting out of bed made me a bit sick and exhausted. I got back in bed and waited for what I knew would be a long night.
My good friend Dawn Jones came in with her 2 month old daughter, Lily. It was a strange comfort to be with Dawn at this time, because I knew that she herself was going through quite a time with her own little one. Lily had just the week before been diagnosed with Neuroblastoma, a cancer that was attached to her adrenal gland. Lily had been through tests and spent time at the Children's Hosptial, so I knew that Dawn understood the fear and pain of watching your little one suffer. We cried together, and it was during her visit that Wes showed me the first pictures of Will in the NICU. It was very difficult to see him with tubes and IV's...never what you want to see for your child. Dawn's comfort and love was a very special memory to me.
Wes spent more time in the NICU, and I was in the room alone at times. It was very quiet. A strange stillness. When Wes returned I learned that I could go into see Will, so I got in a wheelchair and headed to see my son for the first time since he was born. It had been about 5 hours since they whisked him away. I was still pretty groggy from the pain medicine but I remember talking to Will. All we could do was touch him from the head down because he was still under the oxygen hood. I talked with the nurse, and she told me that he had meconium fluid in his lungs and that he had a Numothorax, which meant that he had a hole in his lungs...or what she also called a small part of his lungs had collapsed. That news made me very concerned. She said it was only a small part of the lung, but if it had been bigger they would have had to insert a tube into his lung from the outside. I was thankful to see that he had not reached that point. He was not being intubated, which was also good news to me. I couldn't stay long, but it did my heart good to see him.
My family was getting into town about dinner time, and I was looking forward to seeing them. My dad is a retired General Practitioner who had delivered hundreds of babies, so I really wanted to hear his feedback on everything. He always has a way of explaining things so I could understand, and at this point I felt pretty clueless. When my dad and sister arrived, we discussed what the nurse had told me. I have to say that the look on my dad's face was terrifying. He has a certain face that he makes when a situation is serious, and he had that look. He asked if he could go back with Wes. It's times like this that having a doctor in the family comes in handy...because he asked to see the x-rays and get a good idea of what was going on. When he came back in he said that he could see the damage on the x-rays of the fluid and the collapsed lung...but he also gave us good news. He said that Will's color, and certain physical cues were very positive. He said that it looked like his breathing was improving or getting stable. He was also just able to explain what meconium did to the lungs. We knew that he needed to have the antibiotics to prevent a bad infection in his lungs, and that the hole in his lung needed good recuperation time to heal.
The rest of my family began to arrive, and we were able to let them visit Will one at a time. I remember visiting him one more time on Thursday night, and I prayed for him and with him. Exhaustion began to set in, and I headed back to the room to try to sleep. I was very committed to breastfeeding, so I would spend the rest of the night pumping every 2 hours to try to get my breast milk to come in. Wes was an amazing trooper during this time, as he got up to help me every two hours...we were beginning to understand that parental feeling of no sleep!
By about 5am Friday morning we were both up and ready to go see Will. We headed to the NICU, and were very pleased to see that Will's oxygen hood had been removed. They told us that his oxygen levels were good enough to allow him to just breath room oxygen. He still had an IV in his hand and a tube in his stomach. He was still breathing too fast at times, so they wanted to have the stomach tube to feed him. The nurses explained that babies are not good multi-taskers...Will would not be able to eat and breath at the same time until his breathing had some more stability. I was very excited to know that I would be able to bottle feed him later that day. Dr. Gudoy was making his rounds that morning and we watched as a x-ray was taken of him at about 6:15am. We waited anxiously to hear the doctors report, as we knew the last words from him the night before seemed very somber. As the doctor listened to Will's chest, we were relieved to hear him say, "Much improved!" We were also thrilled after he looked at Will's x-rays and this time his first words were, "Remarkable improvement!" He told us that he was expecting to see some improvements, but that his x-rays were just remarkable.
The doctor seemed shocked, but in a way, it was something that didn't come as a surprise to Wes and me. Throughout the entire night, we were concerned, but never without hope. It was not just a matter of hoping though...we had a quiet confidence in God's hand in Will's life. No matter what the outcome, we knew God was big enough to take care of Will resting in His hands. I actually had pictured Will's body laying safely in two strong hands that surrounded his small body. That was really the only way mentally I was able to be at peace throughout the night. We couldn't wait to get the good news out to everyone about Will's remarkable recovery.
My family arrived that morning, and we shared with them the great news. My dad wanted to go back as soon as possible and take a look at the new x-rays. I went back with him and we were able to speak to the nurse practitioner. More good news came as every test came back positive...Will continued to come back with negative test to bacterial infections, and his oxygen levels continued to look better and better. As we looked at his x-rays I could see how dramatic the difference had been. His x-rays on Thursday showed his lungs to be cloudy with fluid, and you could clearly see the hole in his lung. The x-rays on Friday morning showed hardly any fluid, and no real sign of the Numothorax. It was truly amazing...my dad seemed very excited which made me very excited. It looked as if we had a miracle on our hands. As Dr. Gudoy came around he shook dad's hand and gave me a pat on the back (again--a nice time to have a doc in the family!) and he encouraged us that the x-rays were remarkable. As he was explaining the improvement it was almost as if there was no explanation. He seemed to have a hard time coming up with the right words--but he was pleased to tell us that things were looking very good! What a change from less than 24 hours before! I knew that Dr. Gudoy was dumbfounded, but to us it wasn't surprising at all. At two days old, God had decided to reach down and heal our son.
The rest of the day was spent visiting with friends and family, and many were able to come in and visit with Will. We were so blessed to have so many people share food, thoughts, and prayers with us throughout the day on Friday.
By Friday night we were filled with a joyous exhaustion after telling Will's story so many times, and while we knew he was out of the woods there was still a level of concern for his well being. We knew that we had a long week ahead of us with the thought of being discharged the next day and having to leave our baby at the hospital for a week. By the end of the day, the concern began to set in, and I was getting very discouraged at the thought of leaving him. The reality of the seriousness of Will's situation the night before was hitting me. People had told me of meconium babies who had died, and even the NICU nurses explained that many meconium babies ended up being intubated for a substantial time. (to use his exact words--Dr. Gudoy mentioned to Wes that Will's x-rays on Thursday looked horrendous). I went the NICU to hold Will. I was really hurting physically as well, so I had to come in a wheelchair. I just sat and cried there in the NICU as fear and anxiety started to take hold of me. I knew that he would be OK, but the tubes, monitors, and IVs made me wonder otherwise. We went to bed as soon as possible on Friday, and thankfully the lactation consultant told us to only pump at 11pm, 3am, and 7am...so we were thankful to get some more rest! However, after my 3am pump I was having a very hard time sleeping. My mind was anxious and unsettled and every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Will's face.
I was praying, singing songs, and meditating scripture in my mind to try to calm down...and what happened next was such a blessing from the Holy Spirit. I remember how on Thursday, God had given me peace by picturing Will resting safely in His hands. To me...Will had not been in the NICU under an oxygen hood, connected with all kinds of tubes and machines. Will was resting safely in God's hands. At that point God clearly said to me in my spirit, "Ellen, you put your son in my hands yesterday--are you going to take him out now?" So I again surrendered Will to God's care and the Sprit gave me a vision of Will in his NICU bed, but this time I saw two large hands surrounding under him, and a warm light of love shining down on him. Because he needed extra warmth, Will's bed had heaters on the top shining down on him. I remember in scripture that says, "God's banner over me is love". I knew at that point that Will could not have been any safer...cupped comfortably in His strong hands, and being warmed and surrounded by His love. In my own hospital room I felt a warmth and peace swirling around me, and I could picture that same warmth and peace moving all around the NICU, not just at Will's bed but on all the other beds and babies as well. I was at peace.
I was so excited to see Will and to cover him with scripture, so I went to see him at about 5:15am on Saturday. We were able to spend some quality mom/son time as I sang to him and read scripture to him. I had written a number of scriptures about anxiety, strength, and help in trouble for my labor and delivery, but I realized that God had brought these scriptures to me for what we would need for Will. This entire ordeal has instilled in me the power of God's Word, and how we need to use it as a weapon. We cannot just read the Word and know the Word, but we must use it as a sword--we must speak the Word to combat attacks from Satan. Combat lies with truth...combat death with life...combat darkness with light. Thank you, Lord for bringing those scriptures to our family and our lives.
Saturday was a more encouraging day, and we knew that we would be discharged by about lunch time. Wes and I were able to do some bottle feeding with Will, but they kept his feeding tube in just in case his breathing got abnormal. Dr. Gudoy talked to Wes on Saturday, and as he had mentioned, Will's x-rays on Thursday were so horrendous, that if he had seen the x-rays on Friday, he would not have believed that it was the same child. Again we were reminded of God's miracle in our lives. I was feeling a bit edgy about leaving that afternoon, but I was looking forward to getting home and in my own shower and bed. We left feeling fairly upbeat, and I knew I would come back to see Will later that night. We at dinner at the house my sisters were staying at...the Cunninghams. It was a beautiful house with an amazing view of Lake Tuscaloosa with a large swimming pool (a part of this story that will be important). The Cunninghams opened their home to us and offered us such a gracious dinner with comfort and love. They are an amazing couple. The whole time the only thing I could think of was getting back to Will. I was beginning to lose it, and after dinner I quickly said I needed to go back to the hospital. As we were leaving I starting to lose it...and was able to just grieve with my family. My mom, sister, and dad all surrounded me as a sobbed like a two year old. I can't ever remember crying like that in my life. My dad was especially comforting as he held me and rocked me. I am my mom and dad's baby too...I realized then that this feeling I have for Will would never end.
I was so excited to get back to the hospital to see my baby on Saturday night, but unfortunately that night was a blow to our spirits, as we learned that Will had pulled out his IV in his hand. The doctor had tried a number of other places, but ended up having to put the IV in his head. While we knew this was really the safest place for a baby to have their IV, it was still very troubling to see (and it would also prove tricky when breastfeeding!) Will was covered in bruises and pricks from his knees to his his elbows to the top of his head. I was devastated to also find that after that ordeal, Will had gotten so upset that he had to be tube fed instead of bottle fed. He also had vomited and unfortunately the nurses had not heard him. When we walked in on Saturday he was still sitting in his own mess. It was heart wrenching to see him this way, but the nurses cleaned him up and changed some of his dressings. By the end of the night on Saturday we were able to feed him and clean him up, so we felt better leaving him. Saturday night still had many tears for me, and thankfully my husband was such a stronghold and comfort.
Sunday I took some recuperation time in the morning as my postpartum recovery was still in full force. I knew I needed to rest if I was going to make it through the rest of the week. Wes went to the hospital earlier in the morning, and I was thrilled to hear that Will was doing marvelously. He was breathing normal enough that they decided to take out the stomach tube. Everything was looking up, and by the time I got the hospital I was beaming. The closer I was to Will, they happier and healthier I felt. Wes and I enjoyed every minute of bonding and feeding him. It was an extreme high.
That day my family was coming in to bring us lunch, and later they were even talking about going out on the boat at the Cunningham's (the house my sisters were staying at for the weekend). At about 1pm, Wes went to get lunch with my family while my mom and I stayed with Will. My oldest sister, Lisa, was still at the Cunningham's with her husband and two-year old son. My nephew, Sam, had been to the hospital and was so excited to be a new cousin. He had been praying for "Baby Will" for many months before. We were waiting in the lobby for my family and Wes to return from lunch, and as they came in they all had somber looks on their faces. Wes told us they had just received a call from my brother-in-law from the DCH Emergency room. We learned that earlier that day my two-year-old nephew, Sam, had found a way to get out the front door of the Cunningham's and had fallen into their pool. By the time my sister found him and pulled him out he was blue. They were about to do CPR when he spit up the water. At that point we knew that he was OK, but they were doing chest x-rays to see if there was fluid in his lungs. My family decided at that point to head out the the DCH ER in order to be with my sister and brother-in-law. We were reeling with this information. Wes and I stayed at the NICU to be with Will, and we were anxious to see how everyone was. Our good friends, Lindsay Long, Adam Madi, and Nick Osterman came to eat dinner with us which was a great encouragement at such a stressful time. Later that evening we took a trip to the other DCH to check on Sam. He seemed to be doing fine, but my sister and brother-in-law were understandably shaken. We continue to pray that God brings healing physically and emotionally from going through something like this. Sam continues to do well and has a full bill of health.
After three days of the most thrilling, devastating, hopeful, and miraculous days of our lives we have now come to new levels of understanding ourselves and our God. We also knew that we were in for a long week...a test of endurance. Thankfully God helped us endure to the end of this week, and we are absolutely thrilled to now have our little one at home with us. Now the real journey begins...
2 comments:
Wow, Ellen, that is an amazing story. I read that your son had arrived on facebook, and I have wanted to read the whole story. God is so faithful to us and Will has already begun to experience God's power and healing. I can't wait to see what He has in store for your son and you and Wes. Thank you for blogging the story. It has already encouraged me and many others, I'm sure.
Ellen, Thanks for sharing your story. It was a blessing to read.
Lori
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