Then we found out his billy counts were extremely high. The hospital kept a close eye on them but eventually Owen was placed under the “blue light” for almost a day. His numbers showed improvement so we were sent home on Saturday, Nov 12 with a follow up appointment scheduled for Monday, Nov 14. I was breast feeding every 2-3 hours, hoping to bring down his billy count naturally but on Monday we found out he was at a new high and once again sent home to wait it out with yet another appointment scheduled for the following day. Owen slept a lot on Monday only waking for feedings, but by 6pm I couldn’t even wake the boy up. I tried everything even undressed him and flicked his feet. His body started to make a funny shiver movement and I asked Dave to witness it. He immediately took Owen’s temperature. It was 102! We quickly packed an overnight bag and drove the entire family to the ER.
Home for 30 hours before being re admitted with a fever of 102
I stayed out in the waiting area with Ava and Dave took Owen to the back. I thought they would be gone 30 or so minutes . . . 2 hours went by and I heard nothing. At one point I asked Ava to come to the bathroom with me. I ended up in a heap on the floor crying, fearing something terrible was wrong. Finally Dave came out without Owen and asked me to go into the hallway. I was freaking out. He hugged me and said “Owen isn’t doing well, he has had lots of tests performed and now they are giving him a spinal tap to check his fluid.” I have never felt so helpless. I screamed out in agony and quickly ran out of the hospital so Ava wouldn’t hear me lose it. Dave came outside to comfort me and eventually I pulled myself together and came in to see my newborn son in the ER. The spinal tap was complete and they wanted me to see if he would feed. Owen did feed but the evidence of what had just happened was apparent, he had blood splattered over his arm from the IV port, and was naked from all of the needles and monitors they had attached to him.
He was admitted to RAF Lakenheath hospital that night and we were sent to the 3rd floor for monitoring. The nurses tried to flush his IV port and said it had “seized up.” They tried to get another in, but he was only 5 days old, his veins were so small and they weren’t trained on how to deal with such small babies. As they kept trying I held poor Owen in my arms with my head down, tears rolling off my cheeks as I prayed silently to have a miracle performed. They called for L+D nurses to help, but nothing was working. He cried and cried and I balled and balled. I couldn’t sleep a wink all night.
The next day I thought things would begin to get under control but instead everything went crazy. Dr Acevado thought he saw signs of seizer in Owen and asked if I had ever seen Owen twist his wrists inward. He knew things were serious and made the call to send Owen to Addenbrookes PICU in Cambridge. After breaking the news to us, Dr Acevado sent in the hospital Chaplain, in fear that I was losing it. I remember being blank faced with tears flowing out of my eyes like an unstoppable river. I stared into the corner thinking “God wouldn’t allow all of the miracles that have happened to me and Owen just to take him away after only 5 days. Surely He will help us eventually, but when?”
In an act of desperation David went down to the Immunizations Clinic where Bishop Boden works and asked him to come give our baby boy a blessing. He took 2 minutes to excuse himself from an unbelievably busy day and came to our physical and spiritual aid. He asked Dave if he wanted to give the blessing and Dave replied with tears in his eyes “Bishop I just can’t, I don’t know what to say, I just can’t” Bishop Boden and Dave placed their hands on Owens head and gave him the most spiritual, calming, peaceful blessing I have ever witnessed. With paramedics, doctors, nurses and the hospital chaplain as witnesses I had the peace of the Holy Ghost whisper to my heart that things would be alright, that my little boy wasn’t going to die or be handicapped in any way. I needed to have faith in my Savior and be strong through this adversity.
Addenbrookes PICU in Cambridge
For the first time in 48 hours I could breath! The ambulance ride to Addenbrookes was calm; through the mass of questions and admittance protocol I was composed. Owen had a Dr who could insert an IV in 1 minute flat, nurses who allowed me to sleep by his side and brought me whatever I needed. The Intensive Care Unit was quiet, we had our own room with a private door and no one bothered us. Owen received anti-viral and anti-inflammatory medication on an hourly basis. His fever came down and his oxygen remained stable. They performed a brain scan, x-ray, cat scan, spinal tap, drew blood countless times and found nothing abnormal. We sat and waited. It’s hard to see your boy naked, laid out on a hospital crib with tubes and wires. I couldn’t put any clothes on him and they only allowed his linen blanket in fear that it would raise his fever. Trying to breast feed around his huge IV splint was crazy hard.
Owen was eventually moved out of intensive care and into the high dependency room which he shared with a boy named Louie (a severely handicapped boy who needed nurse care 24/7.) I gained a great respect for the nurses on the NHS. They do so much for so little respect, thanks, or pay. Dave and Ava made the 30 minute drive everyday to see us. It felt like forever but by the evening of Thursday Nov 17 we were suddenly allowed to leave. Just like that, the last test result came back clear and we were free to take Owen home. We could begin to live as a family of 4, whole and complete. Why did we have to go through all of that? I don’t know yet. I do know that I love my Heavenly Father, and that He never left our side. That my faith and testimony in the atonement of Jesus Christ meant that He has felt my pain as well as my joy. It’s a blessing to be a mother and I love my children.
