I Wasn't Always This Strong - part 4

I experienced my first miracle about six months into my NICU job.  It was Jonathon’s mother who made me a true believer. Jonathon was a full term infant who came to us with severe kidney problems.  I don’t remember exactly what was wrong with his kidneys but I do remember that he was a very sickly baby from the start.  His skin was very pale, translucent even.  He acted like a normal, healthy infant and as he got older actually gave us some smiles.  Although the docs were doing everything they could his kidneys simply were barely functioning.  Back then we had all of our babies in one big room.  The beds were about ten feet from each other and there were maybe eight beds in a room.  As much as we tried to provide privacy for our parents and babies, it was very difficult and we could usually hear exactly what was going on at every bed.  Every day Jonathon’s mother, Sue,  would come in and hold Jonathon and in a sing song voice tell him “Jonathon you are so special.  You are the most beautiful baby in the world.  We love you so much Jonathon and we know you are going to get better and come home to us.”  

Hour after hour, day after day she would repeat these four things.  As much as we tried to have compassion, it was very wearing on all of us.  When she walked through the door we would all look at each other and roll our eyes and Sue’s litany would begin.  Although she might give us a little respite and arrive later in the day, she never missed a day.  This went on for months and during those months Jonathon continued to deteriorate and the physicians were running out of ideas to help this baby.  Sue never lost hope.  She continued to come in every day and start her ritual.  Some of the other parents were being driven to distraction and had lost their patience.  Many times the nurses would talk about how difficult it was going to be for Sue when Jonathon died.  We tried to prepare her for the inevitable but she would have nothing of it.  And so she persisted. 

The day finally came when the physicians met with Sue to tell her there was nothing more that they could do.  She needed to take Jonathon home to die.  He was four months old.   She smiled at the physicians and said “I will take him home, but not to die.  Jonathon is strong and our love is strong and he will be fine.”  And with that, Jonathon was discharged.  We let out a collective sigh of relief and enjoyed the peace we once again enjoyed in our unit.  Over the next few weeks we talked about Jonathon and his Mom frequently and hoped she would be able to find peace when he died but with the passing of time we forgot about them and turned our attention to  our new admissions and the babies we knew we could help.  About eight months later the unit received an invitation.  It was Jonathon’s one year birthday and Sue was inviting us all to attend his party.  We soon found out that once Jonathon arrived home he thrived.  His kidneys kicked in and his health returned.  At one year of age he was only slightly behind developmentally and he was the picture of health.  Instead of attending his funeral, we attended Jonathon’s one year birthday party and I never again questioned the power of persistence, compassion and a mothers’ love or the possibility of miracles.