Dr. DEATH and the ANGEL

In an effort to keep the story in some of chronological order I've decided to go ahead and venture into telling one of the most painful moments along the way.  That morning around 11 am after being admitted to a room at the first hospital that we went to the ER in.....we were waiting for a solid diagnosis.  Greg was with me as he was the entire time and our families knew we were there but had not been up to visit just yet. The door to my room creaked open and I would love to say a shaft of white light entered the room with the older male figure who was there to deliver our diagnosis.

However what actually followed was 15 minutes of the worst bed side manner, darkest moments and anxieties that I had ever experienced in my life.  Mind you I was already very sick with BP being maintained at an acceptable HIGH of 165/95.  This man who in our best description looked like a much older hippie version of Harrison Ford... meaning his hair was kind of free as well....and silvery.

Ill cut right to it:

Dr. Death:  "23.5 weeks huh?  Well let's take a look at our options here."  (He pulls out his iPhone and begins entering numbers into a calculator with percentages doing a tally of some kind.)   "So, the name of the game is to stay pregnant, but the truth is at your age and your situation being so sick so early....I don't know how long that is going to be possible."   

His tone was rather matter of fact with zero empathy and it sent chills in to my spine thinking what he might utter next.  He begins to type again more numbers. This felt like many have said a Tax Audit feels.

"Basically its like this....If you had to be delivered today.. and its very possible... the chances of her surviving this are about 30- 35 percent but in that case its not likely she will be able to attend Texas A & M and finish. "   



That was his way of insinuating a high chance of her being a complete vegetable.



My throat began to heat up and I could feel my body getting fuller and fatter as my BP rose. Greg found a perfect moment to volley back to Dr. Death and said "That's OK... I don't like A & M anyway."  GOD LOVE HIM for that.   (Greg is in the blue uniform.. because that is exactly how quick he fired back... MY HERO)

Oh but Dr. Death was not finished. "So basically if you made it to 24 weeks the chances go up.  In fact every 24 hours at this point is quite a leap of odds in her favor (as he is doing math again on his iphone) and her chances go up by 20 percent but she still might not go to A & M. However Christi you have to realize the chances you are taking with your own body.  The longer you try to stay pregnant and give her a better chance... the harder of a hit your body takes and you are now risking your own life and leaving her with no mother."

All of this with ZERO empathy... just numbers and stats... calculated.  " Of course there is also the option of scuttling the mission.  She is on 23.5 weeks and between us we could fudge the numbers a bit so no one goes to jail." 

YES... this was said to us.  Clear as DAY.  Clear as eyes shortly after lasik.  Clear as the water in Fiji.
We both were left there with our mouths hanging open.  Obviously I have no photos to share of this moment..... why would we?   So I'm grabbing fun pics from the internet lolo

He then proceeded to do a sonogram and when he looked her he took a moment and made a sound and lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "Hmmmm."    And then he left the room.  No explanation.  Just left.

There was a brief moment of a vacuum of silence.  All of the negativity of his presence and bedside manner lingered so heavily like a thick vapor that made it hard to breath.  There was a brief second or two of complete shock and hopelessness coupled with anger.

Enter the ANGEL.  We call her our Angel to this day.  She was so beautiful with smoky dark skin and long black hair with the kindest eyes and the most genuine smile that came straight from the heart.

She sat down next to my bed and saw our tears.  She said "Ok, I know you have just received some very shocking and sobering news regarding your situation.  Let's take a bit longer and go through all of the information slowly and carefully so that you can process it properly."  

Spent the next 45 minutes carefully explaining all of the things that can possibly happen to one born so small.  She took her time and spoke of the possibilities for her in a positive light... like these are scary situations but she CAN come through them.  The one thing she said to us that gave us encouragement was that EVERY BABY IS DIFFERENT.  She explained that while brain bleeds, NEC - a intestinal infection, eye damage, pulmonary hypertension, chronic lungs for a while etc are all things that can and do happen frequently with these micro preemies.....there is no set calculation of number to predict how any baby will react.... In other words, our little Eden is NOT a statistic.  If we wanted to give her every chance to have a life... we were right for deciding to do so and she simply prepared us for a long NICU journey but added it would be filled with love and support from the best staff, doctors, nurses and RT's available.

The Angel... she changed the molecules in the air in our room.  She gave us HOPE.  And while my BP was rising the whole time.....I began to breathe again freely.... Greg held my hand and we met eyes several times in a look of the unknown.  But we knew we would do this TOGETHER.  We knew it would not be too much as long as we walked this road TOGETHER.

It was then they decided to transfer me downtown to to the  higher level NICU that could handle 24 weekers.  We were currently at a fantastic hospital that only worked with 28 weeks and up.  We were going to MICRO LAND.

As far as Dr. Death goes....I say we lovingly call him that.  It's true.  While I was blessed with an AMAZING female doctor who saved our lives.... apparently in the craziest of most dangerous and unknown situations in labor and delivery.... Dr. Death is the doctor you want... the kind of doctor that delivers one twin and waits to deliver the other one to give them a better chance. His brain is so scientific and calculated for those types of situations that he is disconnected from his empathy at bedside. We later learned this.  His words still stick with us... and apparently Eden too.....

Because about 3 months into her life I was holding her for the 1 hour a day we were permitted to. My chair was faced away and Greg was by our side.  We heard a voice and our neonatologist said "Uh oh.. it can't be good if you're here."  The voice said "yep,"  Suddenly my daughter made the most horrific face like she was sticking her tongue out and then she exploded in her diaper.  She smiled right after very satisfied.    We turned around and sure it enough..... it was Dr. Death.

I guess Eden had the last laugh and made her statement clear.  Poop on your predictions!