Have you ever seen the light at the end of the tunnel and then watched it fade away?
We arrived at the hospital, both very excited as it was the day before we were meant to go home. It was going to be a busy day. We had to meet with the companies that would be supplying us with Evie’s equipment and meet with the doctor to discuss the discharge orders. As we walk up to Evie’s crib the nurse who was not familiar with Everly asked us immediately if it was normal for her to be breathing so fast. At first, we said yes but after looking at her we realized something was not right.
The doctors were called over and after assessing her they decided to x-ray her lungs. It came back positive for pneumonia. My heart dropped. We were so close to going home and then just like that our hearts were broken. Which at this point seemed to be a pattern. I started to cry out of frustration for my baby she just could not catch a break.
It would take them three excruciating hours to get blood from her tiny little veins. Until they could identify the type of pneumonia she had they would not give her any medication. What I did not anticipate is that she would go down hill so fast. All she wanted to do was sleep but they wouldn’t let her. They kept poking and prodding only to be interrupted by x-rays, nurses checking vitals and doctors observing her. Finally, they were able to get blood it would almost be too late. By this time Everly’s heart rate was in the 220’s and she had to be put on the BiPap Machine.
It was determined that the pneumonia was from aspirating on her food. Up to this point Everly was fed via a pump but our insurance company didn’t think she needed it and that we could give her food manually. However, Everly couldn’t tolerate foods manually because she was used to drops of food at a time, the insurance company did not care about this (insert angry face). So, every time she ate she would throw up and every time she threw up she would breathe some formula it into her lungs. Thus, pneumonia.
Through all this she still needed to be suctioned because she couldn’t swallow and now she had even more mucus. Aaron and I went to suction her and when we took off her mask our eyes immediately met. Everly was dying, she was gray and her eyes were fixed towards the back of her head. We called her nurse over which thankfully was one of her primary nurses. She convinced the doctor that it was not normal for Everly to hold a stare like that. They decided to give her a medication for seizures.
After 15 hours and easily one of the longest days of our lives her heart rate began to drop, her oxygen was able to be maintained by the BiPap Machine and her color had started to return to normal. We were out of the woods, well these woods anyway.
On our way home a dark but very real thought crossed my mind, if no one meets the baby did they baby ever exist?