On January 4, 2012, JR and I woke up to the buzzing of our alarm clock at 4:00am. We gathered the bags that we packed the night before and loaded up our van. I woke Anna up and dressed her. As I was changing her clothes, I couldn't help but stare at the perfect skin on her chest. Before I buttoned her sleeper back up, I kissed the area that would be operated on that day. We headed out our door to the Iowa City Children's Hospital for Anna's open heart surgery. JR and I drove in silence the entire way. Every now and then, I could hear little sucking noises from our sleeping baby in the backseat.
Anna was originally scheduled for surgery on November 1, 2011, but her lab results came back with high counts of white blood cells. This indicated that Anna was getting sick or was fighting some type of infection. Her surgery was rescheduled two more times. We had never been more frustrated. We would prepare ourselves for each surgery and then at the last minute each surgery was cancelled.
During admissions on the day of her surgery, Anna was quite the character bouncing up and down on my lap and babbling. She was in a good mood. Anna's new thing is shaking her head "no". She does not know what it means, but she finds it amusing. She was so carefree in our private waiting room. She had no idea what was coming. We were given a little hospital gown to change her into. The gown, which was probably the smallest they had, was too big. The nurse brought in two little booties for her feet and JR and I laughed as we looked at them. They were at least three sizes too big. At 12 lbs, Anna is very small for an 11 month old (7 months adjusted).
After about one hour of waiting, the surgical staff and her doctor walked into our room to let us know that it was nearly time. We talked about the procedure for a few minutes and then they left. A nurse walked back into our room and told us that she needed to take Anna to the operating room (OR). We took turns giving Anna kisses and saying goodbye. The nurse scooped Anna up from JR's arms and Anna watched us as we had to walk away.
9:21 am. She had been in the OR since 8:40 am. We were told that they just opened her up. Anna was getting ready to be placed on the heart and lung machine. Anna's heart would be stopped during the surgery and the machine's purpose would be to keep her alive as the procedure is performed. We were told that the surgeons would cut through her skin and saw through her tiny chest bones to reach her heart.
During her surgery, we waited in the recovery wing where Anna would spend a minimum of one week healing. Every time someone walked out of the doors or elevators, I thought it was Anna's surgeon or nurse. The waiting was awful. I silently prayed for God to guide the doctors and nurses through her surgery. I kept thinking about Anna's perfect baby skin and how it would now have a permanent scar.
12:15pm. The surgeon came out and told us that the surgery was complete. The hole in Anna's heart was as big as they had thought, about 10 mm long. I thought of a small ruler and tried to picture how long 10 mm actually was. A flap of tissue had formed on her heart and instead of having to cut tissue from another area and use it as a patch, the surgeon simply folded the tissue over and sealed the hole. Her little ribcage was wired together with what looks like small twist ties.
A nurse that I had not met before told us that we would have to wait until Anna was settled in her recovery room before we could see her. I was insistent that we wait in her room for her to arrive from the OR. The nurse seemed a little irritated with me and said that there would be too many people in her room rushing around trying to get her situated. I looked at her and said, "My child has been in the hospital for nearly half of her life and she has had many medical emergencies. I know when I need to step aside to let the doctors do their job." I was not going to be treated like the "soon to be adoptive parent" anymore. This is my child and I was staying. The doctors met us in her room and they were very supportive of us waiting for her there.
A few minutes later, a large team of people rushed down the hall with Anna and went into her room. We stepped aside so that they could do their job and watched. A doctor stood next to us and explained everything that was going on. The doctor was very detailed and it was comforting. I watched Anna from about 10 feet away and I could see that she was beginning to wake up from her anesthesia. The doctors felt that they could remove her ventilator in the OR because the surgery had gone so well. She began moaning and I could tell that she was extremely uncomfortable.
When the team left the room, I couldn't help but stare at Anna. She seemed to be in a lot of pain. This was not the little baby that we gave to the nurse only a few hours earlier. That baby was happy and energetic. Although the purpose of the surgery was to help her, I couldn't help but feel guilty for putting her through this. It seemed as if she had tubes, catheters and wires coming out of every part of her body. It was shocking.
She was so sad. She did not smile until her very last day in the hospital.
We had originally planned for Anna to be in the hospital for more than one week. She recovered so quickly that we went home six days after her surgery. The picture below is of Anna less than one week after she came home.
Since Anna's surgery, we have had to go back to the hospital a few more times for feeding issues and dehydration. She is back home again and doing well.
Nearly one week from today, we will be celebrating Anna's one year birthday. Anna's birthday will definitely be a day of celebration and thanks. I believe that Anna was born with a strong will to live.
Until now, only a few close family members and friends have known that Anna was born in a hospital toilet bowl when she was 24 and 5/7 gestational weeks. When the nurses at the hospital discovered that her gestational age was more than what they had originally thought, they realized the viability of this tiny baby and scooped her out of the toilet. Anna was resuscitated and was put on a life flight to Peoria, IL, where our story of Anna began. If the nurses had not figured her true gestational age, Anna would have been left to die. There is more to her birth, but I will not go into details. The odds were against Anna from the beginning and she is a miracle. God has a plan for Anna and I am so blessed to have her in my life.