RePost: Taela Sage Calder

This was my first real post on this blog and I feel like reposting it today. It's something I wrote up when everything was fresh in my mind. 4 years ago today our sweet Taela Sage was born. And 9 days later she passed away. This year it is hitting me extra hard. I am sure it's mostly because in the past 18 months the same feeling of loss and confusion have re-happened twice. Or maybe it's because after Aiyana and Malcolm I'm realizing I got to see Taela LIVE instead of only seeing her die. Or maybe because Keira and Scharae are getting so grown up and aren't able to even pretend to take the place of a baby in my arms anymore. Or maybe every year has been like this I just haven't remembered?  Whatever the case may be, I'm having some rough days. John is having some rough days. And we know they'll be over and life will keep moving on. And we'll be-we ARE-ok. But for now, the waters are white with rapids that feel like they're going to capsize the little boat I'm in.

I wrote this in the wee early hours of the morning following Taela's passing. I decided that if I didn't get it all written out then, I never would. And I'm glad I did it...because I'm pretty sure I'd still not have found the strength to do it (mostly I was just numb when I wrote it).

Taela Sage Calder

11/1/2007-11/10/2007

October 27, 2007-At 3am my water broke. I called Nana Heidi and Papa Roy and sat on the floor, just waiting for that first post-water-breaking contraction to come. I wasn’t aware of any change like that with Keira, but when I had Scharae there was an amazingly intense difference in contractions within 30 seconds of my water breaking. The whole time waiting for Nana and Papa I just sat and waited, very tense. It never did. Nana and Papa got to our house and Daddy and Papa gave me a Priesthood blessing. In it Daddy said absolutely nothing to reassure me that you would be ok, just that my body would be ok. This worried me very much, but wasn’t something to dwell on at the moment.

Daddy got us to the hospital as fast as he could. When we got there we had 2 very very excellent nurses-Chris and Jen. I don’t remember most of my nurses names, but for some reason I do remember them. Jen was very kind and eased much of my worries, for that moment. They had an ultrasound done to check my fluid levels. The u/s was “negative for fluid” which basically meant all the amniotic fluid around you had leaked out…leaving no question on if my water had indeed broken. They did explain that you were constantly producing more fluid from the nourishment you got from me. And that occasionally fluid could build back up, but not usually when all the fluid had leaked out already.

The health insurance we have is one that has a lot of rules regarding where you can go for having your baby. I was under the impression that it was due to our insurance that I was going to have to be transferred up to a hospital in Portland. Jen made the comment to me that I was going to the best place for my situation. We talked about it briefly and I was finally able to let go of that frustration with my insurance-no matter what we would be going to Portland because the hospitals up there have larger and “better” NICU’s. Basically they’re better equipped-both doctors and equipment-than most others probably in the entire state.

The doctor that we saw here in Salem was a very kind man. I had met him once before when I was in the hospital earlier (maybe I’ll have to write the previous journey before your birth later and include those experiences). His name is Jonathan Pugmire and he is also a member of the LDS church-although I don’t think he knows that we are. He is a very very kind and gentle, empathetic man. He came in to give a bit of a reality check type of speech to us. You see, when my water broke you were only 23 weeks 4 days. That’s very much too young to have even a slim fighting chance to live outside of your mama’s body. I had been able to keep my emotions together until he came in to talk to us. I think because he was so calm, but also caring and really didn’t want to be the one giving us that news. I could just see it in his eyes.

An ambulance was called and I was loaded up on the stretcher, strapped down, hooked to IV antibiotics to keep infection from setting in, and got nice warm socks on my feet from Jen because it was so darned cold outside!

The ambulance ride was almost relaxing. Minus the part where the blood pressure cuff went up and up and up to a pressure of 250+ because the ambulance kept jostling me. That was kind of nerve wracking. But the EMT that rode back there with me was excellent. He let me be when I dozed, and talked/joked with me when I was awake. Daddy drove up in the car, so that he could have that up there with us. He also stopped to get something to eat.

 

We got to Providence St Vincent Medical Center in Portland (really it’s Beaverton, but I guess still considered a Portland hospital). They got me all checked in and let me get up to go to the bathroom when it came time to transfer me to the hospital bed. I wasn’t leaking anymore fluid…because there really wasn’t anymore to leak!

Dr Lubarsky was the perinatologist on-call for my perinatology (high-risk pregnancy) clinic. She came right in and brought a small portable ultrasound machine, just to “make sure” it was my water that really had broken. It is really funny how so many doctors want to see results for themselves-first hand. When she did her u/s she did find your bladder to be empty (amniotic fluid is secreted from you as urine) and 2 small pockets of amniotic fluid near you-one was 2cm long and the other was almost 4cm long). And about an hour later I had two small gushes, which is to be assumed was those two pockets of fluid making their way out. But the good news from that u/s was that it confirmed you were very much head down. This was a positive thing because it meant A)your head was sort of acting as a cork in mommy’s cervix to help keep infection from coming up and in. and B)if I went into spontaneous labor we were prepared for a normal delivery and no immediate need for a c-section. This was very good news. And the doctor mentioned how you weren’t very likely to do any flipping around since there was no fluid to help you float.

At this point it basically came down to me being on bedrest-able to use the bathroom and shower once a day-until my body either got an infection, you showed signs of fetal distress (heart rate not sounding/looking too good) or I went into spontaneous labor. In that case they would try to stop labor, a little, but after the water has broken it’s not an easy thing to do. The other two scenarios would involve them inducing labor because it would be a more positive thing for you to be out than in.

Once Daddy got to the hospital Dr Rabin, a neonatologist in the NICU, came to talk to us. We had to make a very hard decision after talking to him. We had to tell them what we wanted done if I went into labor, or you had to come. At what point would we want them to do everything in their medical power to save you and help you fight as long as you were able. This was a very hard decision we had to make-what I thought would be the hardest one of our life. We chose the mystically magic number of 24 weeks. That would be on Tuesday, so just 3 days away. And the statistics regarding your survival, at this hospital, jumped from 11% in the 23 week range to a nice big number of 74% in the 24 week range. We didn’t even really care what the numbers were regarding neurological impacts-at that point we were more concerned with your life, in the most general sense. That was a very hard decision to voice. But we made our choice and let the doctor know.

October 28 & 29, 2007:Basically that decision meant that Saturday, Sunday and Monday were all pretty uneventful days. Every 4-8 hours a nurse would come in to take a listen to your heart rate and it was always so great and strong. They’d also take my temperature to keep an eye out for infection. And also my blood pressure. Nothing changed. I had a few random mild contractions, but nothing too drastic at all. Daddy slept at the hospital to be near us. It was also a shorter commute for him to get to work, which was a very reassuring thing for us because we knew that he may need to be back to the hospital with very little notice. His work was wonderfully supportive of us at this time.

Your sisters were being so well taken care of by Nana and Yaya. They made sure that I didn’t have to worry about a thing (although I of course still worried because I am a Mama). They worked things out with our Relief Society president and just had everything covered. Daddy did go home on Sunday night to be with your sisters (and enjoy Nana’s Sunday Dinner). They were very happy to see their Daddy. They didn’t really understand why I wasn’t around, but they seemed to adjust well.

October 30, 2007:Tuesday came an went without ado. It was finally our “safe zone” for you. They did more monitoring-an hour at a time every 3 or 4 hours. Your heart rate was pretty good on Tuesday. Looked much like a 24 week baby’s should look. And I wasn’t having any contractions show up on the monitor. All day, though, I did notice that when they would put the heart monitor on me to find where you were at that there was a big ball of you on my left side that just was sort of annoying/painful. I just figured you were stretching.

October 31, 2007:On Wednesday I noticed that I hadn’t felt any movement from you since the day before. And also when I would have fluid gushes they had green in them. This indicated one or two things. Maybe you were having a bowel movement inside-which is a sign of stress/distress for you. Or maybe I was getting an infection. They were planning on doing an ultrasound in the afternoon anyhow. Mom and Yaya showed up to bring your sisters in to visit me. They were beautiful, just as I had left them. About ½ hour after they got here I was told that they were going to take me to my doctor’s office (in the hospital) to do an ultrasound. It was likely a long one, so Mom and Yaya took the girls back down to Salem-it was too long for them to wait in a hospital room without getting into things, or getting upset.

The ultrasound once again showed that the only fluid in me was what was in your bladder-no other fluid had been able to build up. It also revealed that there was nothing in the gut-which sort of confirmed the thoughts that you had a bowel movement inside of me. Your heart was beating strong but they weren't able to see some of the things they were looking for. They were looking for you to be practice breathing and saw none of those movements. They were a bit concerned about that but at the same time it was to be expected with you being so young.

The biggest finding at this ultrasound was the fact that you had done the unlikely and had flipped yourself around so that you were breech. You were sitting directly on top of my cervix. This completely changed the name of the game for my day-to-day treatment.

When I got back to my room I was put on NPO. I have no clue what those letters actually stand for…but it means that I was not allowed to eat or drink. They had me on an IV, so I wasn’t at risk of dehydration. But since you were breech they needed to be ready to do an emergency c-section at the first sign of trouble. They had no clue if I was slowly dilating (which is sort of a characteristic of my pregnancies) without being in active labor. They didn’t want to do any exams because of bacteria being introduced that way. So they wanted to be extra careful because they did know I was a stretchy 1, nearly 2, just based on the last exam I’d had a week or so earlier.

So that’s how Wednesday passed. I did get to eat a late dinner, finally, but at midnight they took away everything again-even all my water bottles. Daddy was planning to go down to Salem and take the girls to a Church Halloween party. But he decided that this year Halloween would just have to be missed for them. He felt the need to stay up there with me, just in case.

November 1, 2007: Thursday came. We had made it through the night uneventfully. Daddy left for work like normal. I got up to have a shower around 8:30 or 9 or so. I knew that Nana was coming up (by herself) and really wanted to be showered! While I was in the shower I just had this really weird feeling down low in my cervix. Like something was moving IN it. Not on it, but actually IN it. I finished my shower, got all dressed again (but didn’t get the chance to comb my hair, darn it!) and my nurse came in the room to hook me up to monitors. I mentioned to her that something just didn’t feel right in my cervix. She had the doctor come in and they did a sterile speculum exam-basically she just looked really hard without actually touching anything because she didn’t want to add any risk of bacteria getting in. She couldn’t see anything out of the norm…so I felt a little silly. She did tell me that it was likely just you messing with my cervix. In my ultrasound there were no feet or hands to be near, just your little bottom sitting right on top of it. She took a look at your heart rate strip from the morning and while it still wasn’t quite as reactive as they want, it was pretty much the same as it always had been, so she told me to go ahead and have some lunch. So I ordered it…and called Nana to tell her I was allowed to eat so she should stop at a bakery and get me some yummy donut or pastry on her way in. She was almost to the hospital by then.

Nana got there after I’d just finished lunch. She brought…Cheesecake Factory cheesecake! 2 different kinds. I’d never had any from them before. I ate the entire large slice of cookie dough, and she left the white chocolate raspberry for Daddy-he loves cheesecake.

Nana stayed and visited with me for quite awhile. Finally she decided it was time to go. Just before she left she told me she really felt you were coming that day. No real reason to think so. Just an impression. And while she knew she (nor anyone else, not even Daddy) could be there during the birth since it would be a c-section that would involve me be placed under general anesthesia, she wanted to be here immediately after-she wanted that phone call telling her to get up there.

So Nana left. As she’d been there I was getting more and more crampy and uncomfortable. I finally decided it was because I needed to use the bathroom really bad. So I went in there, and really did have to go. I had almost immediate relief from my cramping. But as I was cleaning up I felt the toilet paper touching something. Something that wasn’t part of me. I reached up and felt one of your little feet literally making it’s way out of me. I pulled the cord that called my nurses and they came running in. I was so stunned and in shock and freaked out and scared that I could barely get the words out, but I told them that there was a foot coming out, and for real this time. They got me to the bed and immediately flipped a bar on it that made my head go way down and my feet go way up in the air-they were trying to use gravity to keep any weight from pushing you further through, but also to keep my cervix from triggering contractions and throwing me into labor. The nurse asked if she could do a real quick check-she almost didn’t even have to put her fingers up anywhere to feel your foot-it was that far down.

I knew that I was headed, as soon as they could get everything prepped, for a c-section. Mom had literally left just 10 minutes earlier. I first called Daddy at work and didn’t give the poor guy any details, just was crying and telling him he needed to get there now. Then I called Nana and, once again crying, asked her to turn around and get back to the hospital. And then I was wheeled away to the operating room.

This was one of the scariest experiences of my life. At the time it was the very scariest experience. The OR is very white and cold and bright and sterile. I had no clue what was going on. They asked when I’d last eaten, and when I told them not ½ hour before and that it was a rich cheesecake, they let me know that they expected me to vomit when they put me under. They made me drink some yucky stuff that was to neutralize my tummy to prevent that, but since I’d just barely eaten, it wasn’t likely to work at preventing it. Another nurse put in a catheter while another shaved me a little bit near where the incision would be. And yet another one cleaned my tummy with iodine. The anesthesiologist held a mask over my face that I think was pure oxygen, to help make sure I wouldn’t hyperventilate out of panic. And then they told me they were going to put me out and basically as soon as I was out the surgeons would cut and get her out. My last thoughts were me panicking about how would they know if I was really out. I was panicked that they would begin cutting and I would actually be awake/aware.

I needn’t have worried about that. The next thing I remember is waking in a recovery cubicle with Nana sitting right next to me waiting for me to wake up. Daddy was in the NICU with you. He got there soon after you were born, but they wouldn’t tell Nana anything so she was really worried, not knowing what was going on-I hadn’t had a chance to tell either of them what was going on before they got there.

I don’t know how long I was in recovery. You were born at 1:31pm. You were 1 pound 4 ounces and were 12.25 inches long. Just a tiny little peanut. I kept going in and out, unable to keep my eyes open for very long. I know I talked to Nana and asked the same thing many times. I think mostly wondering if Papa was coming up…but I don’t really remember. Eventually they wheeled my bed into the NICU so I could see you. Once again, I don’t remember much, but I do remember being able to touch your little leg with my hand. And your skin felt so thin, yet just like a little baby’s. And then I was out again. Next I woke up in my recovery room. Eventually Daddy came in there. Papa had gotten to the hospital and had gone to see you and give you a Priesthood blessing with Daddy. Nana had a bit of a cold so she didn’t want to make you or any other babies sick, so she stayed with me the whole time. The rest of the day was basically me going in and out of being awake. Mostly I was awake, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. But as soon as I’d get them closed I’d be wide awake again. No real sleep was gotten.

November 2, 2007:I woke up from one of my dozes around midnight and realized I was absolutely freezing cold. I woke Daddy up enough to put another blanket over me, but I just couldn’t quit shivering, which made me shiver more, and my teeth were chattering and my tummy-incision hurt so very badly because I couldn’t relax my muscles. I paged the nurse and she came in. I wasn’t running a fever. She spent some time talking to me, soothing me, explaining that the rapid hormonal changes can cause the shakes like that. I was finally able to get a hold of myself, I thought, and she left to talk to a doctor. She came back in 10 minutes later and I was shivering again and had already spiked a temp that just kept going up until it was over 101.5 ½ hour later. At 3am they started me on IV antibiotics. The doctor speculated that this was something that was going on before the c-section. He said that an infection from the actual surgery wouldn’t have set in so quickly. He thought that although we’ll never know why my water broke, it would make sense if I was developing an infection in my uterus which my body fought. But in the process of fighting the natural chemicals the body produces and uses to attack infection might have weakened and deteriorated my amniotic sac. That was just his speculation, but it’s the closest thing I have to an explanation of WHY? So I hold onto it. So that was why he wanted to treat me with antibiotics-in case it was something that began earlier but wasn’t completely killed, therefore becoming a stronger bacteria. By 8 or so I was feeling really pretty good. I got up, walked to the bathroom, had my catheter taken out, no problems there. And walking wasn’t anywhere near as painful as I had expected. But by 10am my head was pounding and I was getting chilled again. My temp spiked way up again and later came down. It sort of did that all day Friday. I was unable to come and see you because they wanted to be sure that my infection wasn’t something you could catch. Daddy kept coming to see you, though. Uncle Bo-bo and Auntie Jo-jo came to visit. Jo-jo stayed and kept Mommy company while Bo-bo went with Daddy in to see you. He thought you looked like ET with your long piano-player fingers. By evening I was feeling much better, just really weak. I’d started pumping for you to get some food and that was going very well. By the end of the day my milk had started to make a small appearance!

November 3, 2007: Saturday came and my morning nurse was pretty upset that I hadn’t gotten to see you since Thursday. She got a hold of the charge nurse for the NICU and was told I was fine to come down. So I took a shower and came on down to see you. Daddy wasn’t there-he’d gone home to be with your sisters. He was so relieved to know that I was able to go down to the NICU to be with you. I couldn’t physically stand to be there for too long. But you were beautiful. Just gorgeous. We had to wear gloves and yellow gowns because our family has a history of MRSA, which is a dangerous bacteria. Your sisters get infections on their bottoms, and just 2 days before my water broke I had to take Scharae to the hospital to have surgery to drain a particularly bad one. They were worried that you would be pre-colonized, just from being in me. But also worried about us shedding it onto you, causing you to be infected. Your tiny tiny body was so perfect. It was so amazing to me how this all works.

Later, Bo-bo and Jo-jo stopped by again. This time we all went down to see you. They were just amazed at how tiny you were. As they were leaving I was told that Bishop Jones and his wife were waiting to see you and me. So I brought them back as well. You had a lot of visitors that day!

You were doing so wonderfully. No ventilator was needed. No oxygen help at all. Just a C-pap in your nose to keep constant pressure on your airways so they wouldn’t randomly collapse and cause apnea. Your lungs were being so mature and strong for you. And your heart was going great. Basically the only problem we were having was that you were so tiny and small. The doctors were all amazed and proud of how well you were doing, but also had prepared us to know that many premature babies have a “honeymoon” period where they do really really great for the first 2 days or so, and then go downhill, but can be brought back up.

Papa came by after he got done working a shift at the Temple. We went down so he could see you and also so I could take some milk to the fridge. I didn’t know it, but the NICU is closed from 6:30-8 am and pm. It was a little after 7. So we went back to the room.

We came back down around 8 to see if I could be there when they removed all your “equipment” to do a weighing. Timing didn’t work for that right then. The very nice night nurse (I really wish I could remember her name) told me to come back around 11ish and we’d see if we couldn’t do it then. I came down around 10:30 and she felt so badly that she’d already done it, and we missed it. You hadn’t lost much, though, and did great without the C-pap on to keep your airway pressurized (prevent apnea spells). She promised that the next night she’d call me when they were ready to do that, and said it’d be right at the beginning of her shift-around 8.

November 4,2007: Once again this was a good day. I visited you off and on. Daddy was in Salem with your sisters. He did head back up in the evening, after Church. Our goal was for him to there before 8 so he’d be here for the weighing. At about 5 after 8 I got a call from the night nurse wondering if we were going to come. Daddy was still a little ways out, but she said she really needed to get started. So I went down there, really hoping Daddy could get there with the camera. I got there and she’d found some ways to dawdle here and there. We were just barely getting started with taking temps, changing diaper, all that stuff, when Daddy got here with the camera. We got some wonderful pictures. I think you weighed in at 1lb 2.8 ounces. Your weight loss still wasn’t too drastic, and you did so good without the C-pap in. You even peeked open one of your eyes-the left I think it was. We didn’t get to hold you because your skin was still so fragile. But it was wonderful to be there to watch the process and see you without your hat for the first time! Your head was so perfect and tiny! It was such a blessing that Daddy got there in time. It was a very special experience for us as your parents.

November 5, 2007: Monday was my discharge day. I was so overwhelmed. I didn’t even know how to begin thinking about how to juggle my two different “households” as far as where to be when. I spent as much time as I could down there at the NICU with you. It felt so refreshing to be actually dressed in my own normal clothes. Almost felt normal. It came time to leave and that was really hard for me. I didn’t know when I’d get to be back up there with you. And I just didn’t know how the next while was going to work.

You did have a head ultrasound which showed absolutely no bleeding in the brain. They decided to repeat this test early the next week, to be sure. You also had an echocardiogram and ultrasound of the heart done. They were checking if a tiny little valve that is open while a baby is inside Mama had closed off like it should have. In premature babies it can do fine, or have a hard time closing off-therefore cycling blood through the lung with every heart beat. You had no signs of any issues, other than one abnormal blood-gas level early this morning. But the ultrasound came back pretty good. You did have a small PDA (the name of the valve problem) but it was small enough that they wanted to check again on Wednesday to see how your body was handling it.

We got home and had an uneventful drive there. I did finally go to bed, but I didn’t sleep real well. Your sisters were still at Nana and Papa’s and I wouldn’t see them until tomorrow afternoon.

November 6, 2007: Tuesday showed up. Daddy called the NICU to see how your night went, how the weighing was. You had lost an entire ounce. I was devastated. That was almost the same amount as your total weight loss in the first 4 days combined. And of course, being a mom, my mind immediately decided it was because I’d left the hospital-that if I’d not left you’d have not lost so much at once. Obviously I knew this was irrational. But my emotional side had a hard time letting go of that. It was hard this morning because your sisters wouldn’t be back to the house until 1pm or so. And so I wasn’t being Mama to them…and I wasn’t up north being Mama to you, either. That was really hard for me. But Pappy arranged to take me up and drop me off to see you the next day, and that made all the difference for me-knowing exactly when I’d be able to see you again.

November 7, 2007: You were still doing great. 6 days old and no help for breathing at all! You’d been on and off the lights for jaundice. You just looked really good, though. I hadn’t seen you so active before! You were stretching your arms over your head and arching your back to stretch, just like a normal sized newborn!

They did do some follow-up heart tests. Your small PDA had become a tiny PDA and the cardiologist was really happy with the progress your heart was making on it’s own. They decided to check again on Monday and hold off on any treatment until then, unless things changed suddenly

You did have a slightly low hemoglobin level so they had to give you a blood transfusion. Once again, they told me you did so well to make it to day 6 before needing one. Babies your age don’t replenish their blood supply hardly fast enough to keep up with normal attrition (when the blood cells die/are lost all on their own) let alone with the fact that they were taking blood at least once, usually 2x a day! We also found out that your blood type was pretty rare-and it’s pretty rare when you look at what me and Daddy are. You were B-. Daddy is B+ and me and your sisters are O+. You’re kind of the odd duck out, there! Papa was so sad he had A+ because he had wanted to donate blood to go directly to you.

I got to the hospital around 1pm and planned to stay there until Daddy came after work. I was in so much pain, though. I had developed a severe urinary tract infection that came on and was seriously bad in the course of just 3 or 4 hours. I did get some antibiotics to help start getting rid of it. But by the time Daddy got there I was in so much agony I could hardly walk. You had an extra really great day…and Mommy had an extra not so great day!

November 8, 2007: Day 7 of life. When I called the nurses in the morning I found out some really great news…you had gained an entire ounce back! This left a little more than ½ ounce to be back to your birthweight! You had such a great day. They upped your feedings to every 3 hours because you were doing so well with every 6 hours. You just had a stellar day and the doctor I talked to on the phone just in awe at how good you were doing, with no downward turns! I couldn’t make it up to be with you. But I thought about you all day. They were finally able to get a PICC (central) line in your right leg today. This let them feed all your IV fluids, basically anything except red blood cells, through one place and not multiple IV’s.

November 9, 2007: Friday wasn’t so hot of a day for you. It really wasn’t a bad day in the life of a 24 week baby. But it was a bad day for you. You were having problems keeping your oxygen levels up and so they did start blowing some oxygen through your C-pap but just 20 or 30%, not too much. Pappy brought me up to be with you, once again. They did decide to give you another transfusion because you were slightly anemic. They also moved your feeding tube to be down into the top of your intestines, bypassing your tummy. This was because your tummy kept filling with air from the C-pap. They put a 2^nd tube down your throat into your tummy to be constantly sucking air out. But if your feedings were going directly into that, it’d suck all that out, too. You were doing so well with feedings that they didn’t want to stop them. They actually upped the amount so you were getting 1cc every hour which was almost ½ ounce every day! Dr Hendrickson was really hoping it was merely a case of the anemia making you weak and maybe the air in the tummy compressing the lungs. She hoped by taking care of those problems, maybe you’d bounce back. You had a steady day while I was there and when Daddy came we had to say good-bye to come home to your sisters.

November 10, 2007: I got a phone call at 3:30am from a nurse at the NICU. She was calling to let me know that you’d had a really rough night and they were needing to intubate you. At first I wasn’t too worried because most babies your age would have had to have been intubated from the very beginning. I went back to sleep and tried calling at 6:30 to see how that procedure went. I was told that your nurse was busy in your room, but would call me back…but no one called back. So at 8 I called again. I talked briefly to the nurse but then Dr Hendrickson came in and she got on the phone with me.

Things were not looking great. She said that you were on 100% O2 and barely keeping your oxygen saturation up to 77%. You just were having to work so hard to breath. She had started IV antibiotics, just in case it was infection. She had drawn more blood, to check levels. The blood at 5am looked pretty normal, though. She asked if we were coming up today and I told her I’d get there around 3 this afternoon. She wanted to prepare me to not be seeing the same little girl that I left in their care last night, and then said “I just wanted to make sure you were coming up today.” And the thought crossed my mind that maybe that was her subtle way of telling us that we needed to come up today, but maybe it was just for her knowledge. So we went about our morning with the girls, planning for Daddy to stay home with them while I came up with Papa Roy in the afternoon on his way to the Temple.

 

We got a phone call around 11:30am telling Daddy and I that if we could, we needed to get up to the NICU ASAP, that you weren’t doing too well. I knew this morning that things weren’t great, but really wasn’t expecting that phone call. Pappy came to the house to be with your sisters and Nana and Papa headed up to meet us in Portland.

When we got there we were told that just after that phone call you coded and CPR had to be performed, as well as epinephrine pushed to get your heart going again. Ironically, by the time we got up there, your little lungs were doing much better. Still intubated, but they were able to have you down to 50% O2 and your sats were staying up. They were in the process of doing another ultrasound of your head, as well as heart, chest, and belly. The head one did show a small brain bleed-likely caused by all the problems you were having, especially the CPR. The belly and chest ultrasounds confirmed what your doctor thought she saw on the x-rays: major fluid build up around them that wasn’t there at all yesterday. You were seeming to do ok, though. The biggest issue they were finding, in terms of keeping your heart rate level, was acidosis of the blood-it was too acidic. So they would push spurts of what is essentially baking soda to neutralize your blood. Problem with that is that it’s extremely hard on such small veins, as is most of the meds they were having to use. You had an IV in your head, and one in your arm. The theory is that the PICC (central) line they got in through a leg on Wednesday had perforated and all that fluid was simply flowing through your right side and filling in every empty space. This caused your cells to freak out and release all their acid, as well as potassium. They had to keep your blood sugar levels at 400ish to be able to administer enough insulin to fight the potassium. Your kidneys were completely shut down and your liver seemed to be struggling. Around this time I had to leave the room to pump. When I was finishing Daddy and Dr Hendrickson (who’s an absolute gem) came to find me. She had just gotten the latest blood results back. No infection could be cultured either in your blood or from fluid from your lungs. And very ironically your bilirubin (the stuff that causes jaundice) was very good, especially in light of the fact that you’d been on lights off and on for the last week, but not for 3 days or so. BUT every other enzyme level was not ok. She actually said “I’ve never seen such abnormal labs on a baby.” Your potassium levels and all of your other liver levels were high enough that in an adult they would warrant major attention by a doctor. And the cardiologist had spoken to her and told her that he had a hard time fathoming that the heart ultrasound was of the same heart he saw on Wednesday. It was ultra tiny-they could hardly get detailed pictures of it-and very deteriorated. He was surprised that it was still managing to pump, even as poorly as it was. At that point she basically had to tell us that if we kept up the medicine, IF you pulled through it would very certainly mean a life with no quality at all. Essentially a life dependant on machines. That pretty much left our only part in the decision to be WHEN? We chose to right then have you disconnected and extubated. The wonderful nurses took some pictures, and Daddy and I were finally able to hold our little angel and not have to worry about MRSA and gloves and gowns and wires and tubes. There are volunteers who crochet hat/blankie sets for this time. The blankie will be buried with you and the hat is in a beautiful keep-sake box that the NICU gave us. They also gave us a tiny bit of your hair, some feet- handprints, your thermometer, the bottle of babywash they used for you, a comb, your last blood pressure cuff and a gorgeous quilt which is the perfect size to become a wall hanging for our home. We don’t know what they will put as time of death, but I’m pretty sure it was pretty darn close to your time of birth-around 1:30pm. For 9 long days you fought to be here with us. And 7 of those were beautiful and amazing days-watching you amaze the doctors and nurses. Our Bishop and his wife met us up in Portland and were in the room with Mommy, Daddy, Nana and Papa as we all took turns holding you for the first and last time. They sang “I Am A Child Of God” for you, which was so very touching and brought such tears to my eyes. You truly are a child of God, as are we all. And you are back in his arms until Daddy and I can get back to you and be your parents in the eternity.

One small and seemingly insignificant detail is that your final nurse was also LDS. Daddy and Papa gave you a blessing after the head/heart ultrasound, but before any results were back. The nurse had come back in during this prayer to adjust some IV stuff. I wondered how totally odd she thought what we were doing was. But afterwards she quietly asked me if we were LDS. She said she was too. She said to me “I know it might not be of any comfort now, but someday the Plan of Salvation will be a lifeline for you. You’ll still need to go through the same pain and grieving. But just having that will be a wonderful thing for you, when you’re ready.” She really didn’t do a whole lot of anything different than probably any other nurse would have. But somehow just knowing that Toni Monson, the last medical professional to take care of you, was “one of our kind”-someone who held the same belief structure-was such a blessing to us. Very comforting.

Everything took such a quick turn. While the PICC line probably sped the process up, I truly feel this was your severe prematurity at work. Sure, lots of babies make it. But Taela, you just weren’t meant to. It’s a little tough to figure out WHY you had to fight for so long, just to not win that fight with life. But Daddy and I take great comfort in knowing that there is a reason. We can speculate what that (those) reason(s) might be. But I doubt if we really, truly ever KNOW what the reason was. But we know there’s some sort of Plan.

We are holding up ok, and then not, and then ok, and then not. I think that’s to be expected. It’s rough, but one thing that I am truly counting as a blessing is the ages of our girls here at home. They don’t understand even the concept that you were born or what that means. Nor what death is. And I don’t even have to worry about that! I know there will come a day when it will be addressed. You are not a child that will be forgotten or not talked about. I am happy that I don’t have to plan that talk in the near future though. I think it will end up being something that is just picked up on, and for that I am truly grateful.

Daddy and I love and appreciate all the prayers, thoughts and support we’ve had throughout this pregnancy. It was not an easy one for either of us and we are convinced that all the faith and prayers of those around us had a lot to do with us getting the opportunity to love and parent our Taela for as long as we did.