7.23.08

Ethan is doing very well after having made it through his PDA surgery.

Most parents would like their children to break certain statistical averages and stand out from the crowd in ways that would elicit at least some parental pride. Then there's Ethan and his surgery. Don't get me wrong, I love him more than he'll ever know, but Dr. Rosenblum explained to Lisa and I that in 13 years of working at St. Luke's NICU, he's only seen 5 babies have to have their PDA's surgically closed. Ethan is the 6th. He will also go down in the history books as the first to have the surgery performed here in his room (they used to do it in the old building, but never in the new one where we are).

Before I go into the surgery, I want to first say how amazed and astonished I am over the sheer amount of legwork and phone calls that were made on Tuesday to coordinate Ethan's heart surgery for 2:30 today. Many legal and bureaucratic protocols had to be followed to grant Dr. Davis and his staff emergency privileges to perform the surgery here as well as coordinating the simple nuts and bolts of getting the equipment, tools, and ultrasound information to Dr. Davis and his team. Lisa and I will forever be indebted to the staff of St. Luke's and Dr. Davis.

Okay, so let's start from the beginning: Lisa and I spent the night at our house to get as much quality rest as we could before the big day. I got up, went for a run to burn off nervous energy, and then ate breakfast. As I was eating, my father called to let me know that he and Mom were heading out (they had planned this visit well in advance and it just happened to coincide with Ethan's surgery,) when he brought up the idea of having the children baptized. This was something that Lisa and I knew we wanted to eventually do, but had not thought of it at all while we were getting a handle on their needs in the NICU. After I got off the phone, Lisa's aunt Karla came to the door and told me that she and two other people had thought of Ethan and Allison needing to be baptized, not in a "just in case" sort of way, but as a way to further help them both have the strength to grow and develop. At this point, with five people coincidentally having the same thought, I went to talk with Lisa...

Fast forward to the hospital and Lisa and I, along with Stacey our daytime nurse, are standing in Ethan's room with Father Dennis Cahill, the associate pastor from our church, blessing sterilized hospital water and beginning the baptismal rights over Ethan's isolette. Like most powerful faith-filled moments of my life, the rite was performed with great heartfelt emotion and simple prayer, as Ethan calmly slept in his bed. We then went across the hallway to Allison's room and baptized her. Just like her brother, she calmly slept in her isolette, as Father Cahill put his hands through the portal and blessed her.

Afterwards, Lisa and I went to Ethan's room, where we got to hold Ethan one at a time, talking with him and giving him whatever strength we could before he would be prepped for surgery. As Dr. Rosenblum came in to insert Ethan's breathing tube, Lisa and I said our good-byes and went to the family area on the floor to have lunch. While eating, my parents showed up making a 4 hour, 2o minute trip in 4 hours flat with two "pit-stops" for lunch and coffee. I thought I had smelled freon from the parking lot...

We quickly finished lunch and my parents got to meet their grandchildren for the first time. I took several pictures of the long-awaited meeting, as you can never really describe the looks on people's faces during such life events.

Once we got settled into Allison's room, the various members of the surgical team including Dr. Davis came in to brief Lisa and I on what would be happening to Ethan. Lisa and I had just been on an emotional roller-coaster Monday and Tuesday with Ethan's struggles to breathe, and had also been inundated with information on this type of surgery, so that when we were talking with the doctors it was more a confirmation of what we knew to expect rather than learning everything for the first time.

Ethan would have a total of 8 people in his room during the surgery, each with a specific task. My parents, Lisa, Allison, and I would be across the hall. It should be pointed out here that the doors to each room in the NICU are a series of three glass sliders, so that if you want any privacy, you have to draw the curtain. The doors to Ethan's room were kept partially open with the curtain halfway open. This allowed us to view his surgery from our room if we wanted. This was a moment that you never can prepare for; do you watch your own son's heart surgery? My parents and I would sidle by, trying to act casual, from time to time, seeing what was going on...

It was straight out of a Lilliputian episode of ER, as Ethan, all 3 lbs., 5 oz., of him, was lying on his side as the doctors draped blue sheets over him and began the procedure. Other NICU nurses on the day shift would come by and form a small half-wall in front of the doorway, obstructing our view, as everyone calmly did their jobs.

We stayed in Allison's room, talking, with Allison being passed from Grandma to Grandpa and then to me for the diaper changing. Surprisingly enough, the whole procedure took about 15 minutes; with the sedation and the suturing taking the longest amount of time on either end. All said, Ethan's surgery lasted about 40 minutes.

Dr. Davis came in to tell us how it went with amazing efficiency, "It went really well, put in a medium-sized clip, he's doing great." We tried to thank him and his staff, but what words do you say to express how relieved and happy you are that your preemie son gets to spend Day 14 of his life with you tomorrow?

Yet, that is what's going to happen. Ethan will continue to come out of the anesthesia and muscle relaxants. His ventilator and painkillers will help him breathe and sleep comfortably tonight. His chest tube (which is there to drain fluid from his left lung,) will come out in a couple of days. He will begin to eat. He will continue to practice his "worried look" as he scrunches up his nose and wrinkles his forehead. And he will continue to be with us, learning how to breathe and eat, just like his sister.

Lisa and I are exhausted and we, or at least me, feel a little guilt over not sharing Allison's triumph today, which was that she got to be moved to a "big-girl bed"; a regular open crib of her very own. She is now connected to only two wires; so picking her up, feeding her, and changing her will be much easier.

The twins will be two weeks old tomorrow, and as I described to Lisa this morning, these two weeks have run the gamut of emotions and at times have felt like either two minutes or two years. But Allison and Ethan are worth it, by far.