Alex's first few days

Alex was breathing fine right after he was born and he was put onto my chest. However, within 3 min's my OB said something like "You better fix that breathing little one." My heart sunk. This little one was struggling to breathe as well? (Nice picture of me right? I am not one of those women who look perfect right after giving birth!)

In the same way that they did with Brynn, nurses whisked Alex away from me to the baby warmer in my room. In a God thing, the baby nurse was a lady who also worked at my OB's office. She had walked the whole journey of bed rest and worry with me. She listened to his heart and almost right away knew that Alex had a diaphragmatic hernia. She had never looked after a baby with this condition before, but she knew what she heard. To the best of my memory, she described it as follows "His heart was on the wrong side. I knew that he was fine on all your ultrasounds, so I thought through what could have caused it. A diaphragmatic hernia, where his intestines had pushed up through a hole in his diaphragm, just made sense to me."

She was right. Alex was taken away, and again, as with Brynn, Jon followed. However my mum didn't make it to the hospital in time to witness Brynn's birth so when he was taken away I was left alone. This time, mum and Alia were with me. True to form, Alia immediately got on the phone and started calling people to pray for us. And working her family's contacts to provide whatever we might need.

At first I really did think Alex was experiencing the same struggle's as Brynn, and I remember thinking. "Well, we've survived this once, and it wasn't such a big deal really. I can do this. I can meet this challenge." And then Jon came back into the room and told me that Alex would be sent to St. Mary's Hospital, in Grand Junction, to have surgery. X-ray's showed that his large and small intestine had indeed gone through his diaphragm, moving his heart to the side and crushing his left lung. GJ is a little over an hr away by car, so this seemed doable.

Brynn was at our house with Rosa, my parent's housekeeper from Hong Kong, who had come out to help us make it through the summer. Rosa is a wonderful lady from the Philippines who pretty much catered to Brynn's every whim for the next two weeks. Thankfully, she was able to drive Jon's car and drove him to Alia's house to swim everyday, where he was again the center of attention. Another God thing. I really never worried about Brynn the whole time I was gone.

Remember the wonderful epidural I'd had? Well, the greatness of it wore off quickly when I realized that I couldn't get out of bed to go see my baby. He was already hooked up to an IV, and on oxygen in the baby nursery. The one that was now mostly empty and able to handle a child with the intense needs that Alex had. I laid in bed, praying that God would spare me this child. Jon, Mum and Alia all came in to give me reports and show me pictures of my sweet baby Alex.

A short while later, my OB came in and told me that the St. Mary's Pediatric Surgeon was on vacation, and so Alex was going to be flown to Denver Children's Hospital. DENVER??? That's about a 5 hr drive, not so easy to cope with. At this point they brought in a wheelchair and pretty much picked me up and put me in it. I was wheeled into the nursery, where I saw my little boy with tubes coming out of his little body at all angles.

Alex was born just after 1pm, but it wasn't until closer to 5pm that the plane arrived in our local airport, and the EMT's brought them to the hospital in their ambulance.

During the wait, Jon and I had to decide how to handle the next part of the day. Only one of us could go on the plane with Alex, and mainly due to the lingering effects of my epidural, we decided that Jon would fly on the Flight for Life place with Alex; Mum and I would find another way to get there. Enter Alia and her contacts. Soon after we found out the severity of Alex's condition one of Mum's best friends, Phyllis, Alia's mum, came to the hospital to support her. Between Alia and Phyllis they reached Mark Palm, a pilot with a local relief agency, Samaritan's Aviation. Mark agreed to meet us at the airport and fly us to Denver, behind the Flight for Life plane.

One bright spot of the day was when my good friend Kristen stopped by to see me. She knew just what I was feeling, and therefore what to say to me. She had traveled the same road with her son, who spent weeks in the NICU after his birth. Kristen was a source of support and strength at that time, and continues being such for me today.

God showed up once again when the EMT's walked into the nursery. I knew one of them, and he enveloped me in a bear hug. Mum later told me she wondered who on earth was hugging me so tightly, while Jon stood by, smiling! He promised to transport my baby safely to the airport, and get him on the plane ASAP. Thanks for keeping your word buddy.

Jon went in the ambulance with the EMT's and the absolutely wonderful nurses. Their job is tough and emotionally draining, but they were both professional and caring. Mum and I followed the ambulance in Phyllis car, and saw the decent sized plane Jon and Alex would be flying on ...

and then the tiny 4-seater plane that would carry mum and me up over the Rocky Mountains. Gulp.


Have I mentioned the weather yet? In typical mid-summer mountain weather, a nasty thunder storm was rolling in. Pilot Mark was obviously worried about flying in such weather, but as the father to 3 kids he could only imagine my emotions. We took off as the thunder clouds rolled in, mum in the back and me sitting next to Mark. Planes take off horizontal to the runway, most of the time. But not this time. We took off correctly, but were soon buffeted into an almost vertical position. Mark has since told me that it was one of his 'hairiest' takeoff's ever. Double gulp. I sat and prayed through every thunder-head, the whole way to Denver.

Jon and Alex were met by an ambulance; mum and I were met by some family friends. When we got to the hospital, Jon was sitting in the NICU waiting room while the staff were admitting Alex. At that point it was about 8pm on Sunday night.

Jon mum's, Marilyn, flew in from AZ, arriving at around midnight. I think I maybe slept for a few hours, but it very hard being away from my baby. Denver Children's Hospital was in the process of building a new facility where parents can sleep in their baby's NICU room, however at this old place we couldn't. Jon and I were given a small meeting room, with 2 pull-out couches and were trying to sleep when she arrived. Jon's sleeping pill worked, mine didn't. I awoke when Marylin came in to sleep on the other couch and I took her into the NICU to meet her grandson.

She and Jon snoozed on their couches while I kept vigil at Alex's side. I truly didn't begrudge Jon his sleep. He was working the graveyard shift that month, and had arrived home that morning, eaten breakfsat and gone to sleep ... only to be woken by me in labor 2 hrs later. He was running on 30 hrs without sleep.

The following day, Monday the 30th, was one of relative calm while we waited to see if Alex would stabilize enough for surgery the next day. Time and again we were told that he had a great chance of full recovery: he had flown the whole way over the mountains without needed oxygen! It is believed that his diaphragm herniated as he was being born since the Dr's could tell from x-ray's that his left lung was fully developed, and so when the intestines were returned to their correct position, it was the hope that his lung would expand fully and he'd be breathing on his own within days.

We waited and prayed for the surgery to be successful, holding our son and cherishing the time with him.