I remember the night like it was yesterday. 7 ½
months into my first pregnancy, something became drastically wrong. I was being
prepped for an emergency cesarean section after my baby quit moving. Though 5 ½ weeks early, the baby had a better chance now outside the womb than in. For
mere minutes, I was allowed some quiet before the surgery as I got myself
prepared. It was the eye of the storm, eerily peaceful amid the sure hustle
going on outside my room. My nurse clutched my hand as we implored God to protect my unborn son in the next hours and days to come.
Matthew
was born white as a sheet, not breathing on his own, but his steady heart never
faltering. I had what is known as a fetal-maternal hemorrhage, and my son had
lost 2/3 of his total blood volume through a tear in my umbilical cord! In the first 24 hours Matthew had three blood
transfusions. A machine helped him to breathe and intravenous lines nourished
him. After a precarious first 24 hours, followed by nine days in the NICU, I
was able to take my son home. Jody began as my nurse and floated to the NICU to
take care of my son over the next week. She explained when I needed answers and
calmed when I needed peace. During a terrifying time for me, she was steady. Now
almost nine years later, with not one, but two
healthy sons, I have never forgotten the power a nurse can have on one life.
During that time in the hospital my son was saved by great doctors, and I was saved by a compassionate nurse. Within
me she planted the seed of how I aspire to help others during those nights they
will never forget.
No comments:
Post a Comment