Navigating the NICU through COVID

"Our NICU journey began in April of 2020-- right when the entire world was being put to a stop due to the initial surge of the COVID-19 pandemic. I am a healthcare worker, so the beginning of COVID was particularly stressful and challenging, as we still didn't know much about it or its treatments. I was spending a lot of extra time at work, enrolling patients in clinical trials and doing my best to manage the cases that we had. This was our 3rd pregnancy, and I had felt healthier during this pregnancy than in my previous two, in which I had developed significant pre-eclampsia. Since both of our girls were born at 37 weeks, I just assumed this would be the same. When I was told at just 22 weeks that our little guy had IUGR and that my care would be transferred over to maternal fetal medicine, I was nervous-- but nothing could prepare our family for what was to come. After a couple of short hospitalizations, MFM determined that I would need to remain hospitalized at 26 weeks until I was able to give birth-- ideally at 32 weeks, but more likely at 28 weeks. This news was devastating... it meant I would not be able to visit with my daughters until I was delivered and discharged because at the time, no visitors were allowed due to COVID-19 restrictions. I wouldn't even be able to visit with them in the car because of the risk of infection.

On April 18, 2020, I tearfully kissed my husband and girls goodbye, as I wheeled my large suitcase through the halls of UH Cleveland Medical Center for what I assumed would be a lonely, lengthy stay. I cried as I checked in, thinking about how much my girls will have grown by the time I was able to leave. I worked from my hospital bed to keep my mind busy. The night of April 19th, I was urgently wheeled down to the MFM delivery unit for monitoring because my blood pressure was dangerously high and medications were not helping to regulate it. I thought nothing of it, as this had happened a couple of times previously, and I figured it would eventually return to normal. I tried to relax as much as I could while having nursing checking in on me every hour or so. Before I knew it, night had turned to morning and I was presented with information that I was not at all prepared for-- our son's heart rate was dropping and I would need to undergo an emergency c-section to save him. My husband wasn't there, so I had to call him and tell him to hurry and find a sitter for our girls (at 7 am) and rush to the hospital. So many thoughts rushed through my head, but the most pressing was whether our son could survive being born so prematurely. I was quickly wheeled into the OR, where an epidural was initiated. I remember my hands shaking due to a combination of fear and anxiety as a team of people began the process to save our son.

At 26 weeks and 6 days gestation, Everett Michael was born on 4/20/20 at 7:18 am, weighing a whopping 670 grams (about 1.5 lbs) and measuring 12" long. I barely caught a glimpse of him as they wheeled him away in an incubator. It turned out that my placenta had detached, which was why he was so tiny. He was not spontaneously breathing and required resuscitation and subsequent intubation. I was not allowed to see him for 24 hours, so my husband FaceTime'd me from Everett's NICU room.

When I finally was able to meet him, I cried and apologized that I could not keep him in any longer. I felt like a failure and was distraught that he would have such a long, difficult journey. That day, his nurse said to me "don't worry.. things look scary now, but this one is feisty." Everett remained hospitalized for a total of 8 months-- battling through sepsis, endocarditis, surgery to close a large PDA, craniosynostosis, BPD, and so much more. His NICU team became like a second family to us. They loved his laid back and typically happy, smiley disposition. They liked to bathe him, dress him up, and read to him. I visited him almost every day, praying with him before I would leave. Those early days were full of darkness and uncertainty. I would FaceTime family, especially his sisters, so that he could hear their voices. For the entire 8 months, only my husband and I were allowed to visit because of COVID-19 protocols put in place to protect patients. My most favorite memory in the NICU is the first time he smiled at me-- it was as if he was reassuring me that he would make it. Little by little, Everett began getting stronger, growing, eating on his own, and was able to finally breathe on a lower oxygen setting.

On December 19, 2020, our NICU journey came to a happy ending and we were able to bring our son home, where he met his sisters, grandparents, and godparents. There were times where I would be upset that his NICU journey was taking so long, but finally having our entire family together that day-- healthy, safe, and sound-- was the best Christmas gift any of us could have asked for!" -NICU Mom, Amanda