To say life hasn’t been stressful since 12/29/13, would be
lying. That night just before New Years, Holly’s amniotic sack ruptured somehow
and we both awoke to massive amounts of fluid in the bed. So many thoughts
rushed through our heads. “Why is this happening 8 weeks early?” “Is the baby
still alive?” “Is she moving and is there a heart beat?” As panic set in on
both of us, I was grateful for the reminder from my sister Rebecca who was
staying in town. She mentioned to me, that there is no reason to freak out.
Assume everything will be fine unless told otherwise. I was grateful she was
here at our home, as I rushed Holly down the stairs, into the car, and we
honestly hauled ass across the I-90 floating bridge from Bellevue to Seattle to
get her to Swedish-First Hill where our OB/GYN was, and to see of Ella was
alive and moving and well. Rebecca, bless her heart, spent I don’t know how
many hours cleaning up the amniotic rupture aftermath. She cleaned our bed, our
mattresses, our sheets, the carpet into our master bathroom, the stairs all the
way down to the garage, the landing, and out to the car. I know it wasn’t
exactly her “ideal” vacation experience. But I’m so grateful she was here, and
I didn’t have to rush over to a neighbor’s house in the middle of the night and
ask for help. Though I know several of our neighbor’s would have been happy to
house sit, and baby-sit Oscar.
Photo Note: Taking Oscar to visit Mom in the hospital.
We arrived at Swedish-First Hill and Holly was immediately
admitted to the hospital. She was admitted to the Antepartum Unit to delay
labor. Things settled down, albeit her losing most of her amniotic fluid.
Ella’s heart was beating fine and we knew our little girl was still with us.
The panic we both felt in the car. The stress of the unknown. It was out of our
hands completely.
Photo Note: Oscar and Mom getting some overdue quality time with each other. Holly being hospitalized 24/7 was hard on him.
The goal was to have Holly defer labor for up to two weeks.
We didn’t know, but apparently you can still keep a fetus in uetero with no amniotic
fluid, so long as you are under 24/7 monitoring at the hospital. Your body
still produces amniotic fluid. As long as no infection is a concern, you can
keep the baby in. Holly was constantly monitored, but without any vaginal
examinations as to not introduce the risk of infection. All was well for a few
days…
Rebecca’s vacation was over and she headed back to Utah on
1/2/14. The bonding she and Oscar were able to have is priceless. He always
asks for “Ah-Bee-Kah” or “Aunt Beck” in his toddler voice. He runs around our
house looking for her, and yelling her name at the top of the stairs. It was no
coincidence that she was here, when she was here.
I had been off work since 12/18/13 for the holidays. We
didn’t travel this year, as Holly was too far along pregnant. I was just
getting over a bad spell of pneumonia, so it was nice to not have to go/be
anywhere for Christmas. We had a nice time, just the three of us, in our home. Creating
new traditions, and spending time spoiling Oscar. Rebecca then flew in right
after Christmas, to spend New Years with us.
After my holiday vacation, I was slated back to work on
1/2/14. Oscar and I took Rebecca to Sea-Tac Airport to fly back home to Salt Lake City.
I took Oscar to daycare and I went back to work. Everything was fine; I put in
a full day of work and headed home with Oscar. I had arranged for a friend of
ours to come over that evening and house sit / babysit after Oscar went to bed,
so I could go back to the hospital and be with Holly for a few hours. That was
the planned schedule while Holly was in the Antepartum Unit.
In the amount of time that it took me to leave the house in
Bellevue, and drive the 15-20 minutes to get to Seattle, Ella’s heart rate
started to decelerate. I was greeted by a nurse at Swedish who blurted, “You
are Daniel Craven, I recognize your photo from your wife’s room. She’s in the
OR. You need to gown up and come quickly.”
At that point, I started to wonder what the hell was going
on. Holly was slated to have a C-section in a few weeks. But given the
significant heart deceleration that Ella had, she wasn’t gong to make it a few
more weeks. Things were prepping in the OR to deliver that day, on 1/2/14.
Nearly 8 weeks early. And just barely over 31 weeks gestation. Of course we
both had many concerns, but Holly’s health and Ella’s health both had to be
taken into consideration and be the priority. I was in scrubs at Holly’s side, and things started
to calm down. Holly was getting ready to go back to her Antepartum room. Then Ella’s heart
decelerated again, and more severe.
At that point, Holly’s OB/GYN arrived. She also delivered
Oscar for us two years earlier and was just getting off shift that night. But given the elevating
circumstances with Holly, she stayed. Our doctor is the chief of the OB/GYN
unit at Swedish-First Hill and oversees all the high-risk births. I love Dr.
Cole’s straightforward, no-nonsense approach to information sharing. She
doesn’t sugar coat and tells you what you need to hear to understand the situation, and will also tell you what you want to
hear, and I like all the details. She talked to me a few minutes in the side area of the OR. It was
becoming harmful for Ella to stay in uetero.
There was a hustle and bustle in the OR prepping for
potentially everything or nothing. Then the third deceleration of Ella’s heart,
Holly’s heart started to decelerate as well. People running in the OR calling
other teams to get there. Holly stated to code on the OR table, and I was
lifted up by two male health care providers and rushed out of the OR. I could
hear Dr. Cole say, “sorry Dan, this is a Code Red, and we are in life saving
measures for Holly and Ella.” I also work in the health care industry, so I knew
exactly what a Code Red was, and the severity of it all. My heart sank as I was escorted out and felt totally helpless for my family.
I was outside the OR, still in scrubs, watching people run
into the OR where Holly and Dr. Cole were. People tripping over chairs to get there.
I watched 16 people rush in to the side of Dr. Cole to assist with Holly. I
learned afterwards that Ella was in breech position and on her own turned head
down. In the process she got her foot stuck up by her head, and her umbilical
cord wrapped around her neck. They had less than 5 minutes to intubate Holly
under full anesthetic and deliver Ella under emergency C-cection.
As I was out in the hallway beside the OR, sheer panic set
it. I didn’t know what would be he outcome of Ella, as well as Holly. In a
planned C-section you have the luxury of 20-30 minutes to deliver. With the
emergent nature of Ella’s arrival, Holly was basically filleted to get the baby
out. Her C-section scars are a lot bigger than the standard.
Photo Note: My first photo of Ella, moments after birth and transport up to NICU.
I was texting any friend that would answer late that night,
and also cold calling any of my friends that would pick up. I was panicking and
thought I was going to lose part of my little family. Within moments I had
dozens of texts and my cell phone was ringing off the hook. I’m eternally
grateful for the goodness of so many friends and colleagues in our lives that
have dropped everything to help us out, starting that first night. Within 20 minutes, I had
friends at the hospital to be with me until I felt like things settled down, and my nerves started to normalize.
Ella arrived, or should I say, was “extracted” in the rush
of chaos and emergent conditions. She was greeted by a neonatologist team, and
placed in an isolette. Holly had a surgical repair recovery ahead of her. I
went up to the NICU after Ella arrived. It was a blur. I couldn’t believe she
was here so early, and in my mind I was expecting to see a very unhealthy baby.
She was born at 3lb-12oz, and was 16-1/2 inches long. She was bigger than what
I was expecting, but still so very tiny. My hand from my thumb to pinkie covered
her entire body from the base of her neck to the bottom of her butt. And her entire
hand, all five fingers could grip my forefinger between the tip and just past
the first knuckle.
Photo Note: First documented photo of our new family of four.
Photo Note: Ella is so tiny compared to me.
1/2/14 has been the beginning of a very early start for Ella.
Nearly seven weeks in NICU at the hospital. The daily barrage of health care
providers. Alarms. Machines. Tubes. Tests. Milestones. Physical Therapy.
Occupational Therapy. Bills. Bills. Bills. It’s been stressful. But through it
all, I can recognize the miracles taking place in our lives.
Photo Note: Feeding Ella for the first time via bottle.
Photo Note: Ella finally getting some girth and weight on her body.
We’ve wanted two children for years. Holly and I get to be
the proud parents of two babies. With Ella being in Intensive Care, it’s allowing Holly the opportunity to completely heal up. With Holly and I both splitting
time at the hospital, it’s helping Oscar get accustomed to a schedule without
both of us all the time. He’s learning already that Mom and Dad share time with
Oscar and “baby.” Oscar has been a stalwart during this, and has had his
routine of daycare and Montessori school to look forward to. He’s adjusting
fine with a few meltdowns here and there, typical with any toddler 2-yo.
Photo Note: Ella likes her hands OUT, and NOT swaddled.
Photo Note: Our NICU Sleeping Beauty.
But mostly, the overwhelmingly generous outpouring of love,
support and caring from hundreds of friends near and far, neighbors, colleagues
at my work, colleagues at Holly’s work, our current congregation in our
Somerset Bellevue LDS ward, prior congregation in our Seattle Greenwood LDS
ward, prior colleagues, and on and on is what is at the forefront of my mind We’ve had meals brought in to our home,
house sitting by adults so Holly and I can go to the hospital at the same time
together at night, play dates with Oscar so he can get to know more kids here
in Bellevue, and give Holly and I a moment to decompress, run errands or just
sleep for a few hours. The cards. Notes. Emails. Facebook messages and wall
posts. We are so amazingly blessed to have so many amazingly good, selfless,
supportive, loving people in our lives.
Photo Note: Ella all swaddled and enjoying time with Mom.
Photo Note: Our little "Sugar Cookie," is getting stronger each day.
Photo Note: Volunteers at Swedish-First Hill have given Ella scrapbook pages, 12th man paraphernalia, a hand sewn quilt and a hand crocheted hat.
Ella will get though this. I have no reason to doubt that
she will prosper and excel normally. She just got an early start on life because
she was too excited to stay in uetero and wanted to be part of our family
sooner than planned…LOL. She’ll eventually get to come home with us. She’ll
eventually be a vibrant, healthy, spunky little girl. And the stress and
overwhelming aspects of having a child in the hospital NICU for 7 weeks and counting
will become a distant memory.
Photo Note: I took this photo of her yesterday in the NICU. I love the "off the shoulder, silky negligee" photo opportunity that presented itself.
So grateful that our little Ella is a fighter. She'll come home when she's ready. Selfishly I just want my family under one roof. Seven weeks is a long time for a displaced schedule. The beauty is that Ella will never remember staying in the hospital in NICU as long as she had to. And she's got quite the birth story to recant to her in the decades ahead.
