My name is Emily, and I am a NICU baby.
Mother Knows Best
Five months along, my mother knew something was not right. So far having a healthy pregnancy, eating well, following medical instructions, no alcohol, nicotine or unrecommended substances. With healthy development and frequent checkups, she was doing everything right… But a mother knows.
It was that day my mother and father discovered something had gone wrong.
“We don’t know what is wrong, specifically.” Said the pediatricians.
“All we know is there is fluid build-up, the cause is to be determined.” They told them. And so began several months of worry and medical interventions. To keep me inside Mom and continue to grow stronger to give myself more of a chance.
The Birth
But like usual Emily fashion, I wanted out Now! Steroids and medications were prescribed to keep my excited little soul inside for 3 extra months, but by the end my mother was swollen and in pain.
Born within 4 hours of the first contraction, I entered this world 4 weeks premature. Doctors and Nurses were everywhere in the room, unsure of what to expect upon my arrival. With a swollen belly and jaundiced skin, I let out my first cry, giving way to a sigh of relief from two worried parents. With my status and condition quickly checked over I was placed onto my mother’s bare chest. A place I stayed for as little as 15 minutes, before being taken away.
She Can’t Poop!
Taken away from my mother’s comforting warmth and familiar heartbeat, my condition was further analyzed. Determining the problem? A complete Bowel Obstruction of the small intestine. The possible causes and solutions were theorized. But the most important task was keeping this baby alive.
One Bowel Resection in, and the blockage returned, suffering an anastomotic leak a second emergency Bowel Resection was performed. This close call led to my resuscitation during the operation. The second operation having been completed the doctors now faced a new problem. The blockage was estimated to keep returning. Having been cut open twice at this point, and my body growing weaker with no improvement in sight, a new approach was needed.
“The Poop and Scoop”
An Experimental Surgery. A study completed not long before my birth had been conducted, and that led to the discovery of what the doctor told my parents he called, “The Poop and Scoop”
“One end of the intestine is not fully developed. So it is not contracting.” He explained.
Basically, my intestines were paralyzed and one end was too small. Without the contractions, the content was unable to make its way through, the tissue could not grow and would keep leading to more and more blockages. Unless it is given time to grow and the nerves are shown what to do. Contract.
And that is what they did. With IV pumps, bags, and any other medical device they could get their hands on. They created what I like to call “an artificial intestine” By stimulating the nerves and forcing content through one end into the other with pumps simulating the frequency of a healthy intestine my body slowly but surely learned how to contract, grow and absorb nutrients on its own. This is the operation that allowed me to live a normal life.
She Pooped!
After the extensive operation and a long few months, my intestines had grown strong enough to carry out the natural functions on it’s own. Leading to my discharge and recovery.
The content of my story may change as I continue to gain an understanding of my story.
Privacy
To respect the privacy and well-being of all parties involved, names, locations, dates and other personal information will not be shared.
Disclaimer
This blog is not a place of protest or disrespect towards Neonatal Intensive Care Practices, Units, pediatricians, doctors or other parties involved. This is a place of healing, not a place of blame or hate.
Do not take any information as factual or medical advice, In no way am I a medical professional, a licenced psychologist, or a therapist or have a background in child development. I am simply someone who hopes to help others like me feel not so alone and confused.
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