#he was born really prematurely and was in nicu for 12 weeks

[pynkhues]

I'm really, really sorry that happened to your friend, anon. I hope they were able to recover and get justice for what happened to them, and that you've been able to work through it too.

Thank you :) I'm not close enough with her to necessarily be privy to all her deepest feelings, but as far as I can tell, she really is fine and has been for a long time. She's a teacher and doing really well.

And yeah, I don't feel that way--like I'm looking through that filter--anymore, and a big part of that (not to overshare, but hey, maybe someone will read this and it will help them?) was getting diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. Since I was a kid I'd felt like violence and death were always lurking, to a degree that was illogical, and then the attack on my friend made that worse because it seemed like oh, I was right to feel that way. But getting worse eventually led to a diagnosis, which has led to getting a lot better! :)

(x)

I'm really glad both you and your friend are doing better and that the diagnosis helped, anon! It's wonderful when diagnoses give us not just a vocabulary and tools for what we experience, but an understanding of ourselves and I guess, context?

Not the same exactly, but my littlest nephew has a severe speech disability which has gone through about five almost-diagnoses and multiple tests which is crazy given he's only 6-years-old. He finally got an actual diagnosis a few months ago (childhood apraxia of speech, or CAS) and while there's complicated feelings involved in knowing talking isn't going to be something that'll ever be easy for him, even just getting to understand it better as a motor disability as opposed to a cognitive one has been extremely useful in helping us to support him in using his voice.

He doesn't really understand what his diagnosis means yet (although he knows people outside of the family struggle to understand him) but it's helped get him into more specific speech therapy and, if my sister wins relocation in family court next month, there's some social groups here in Melbourne where he can hopefully be around kids who are experiencing the same disability (it's a rare one, and there ae just more kids with it in the city) and understand what he's going through as he grows up. So yeah! It's pretty cool when a diagnosis offers not just pathways forwards, but a deeper understanding of self and points of connection too.

[morimementa]

Might I offer you a small smackerel of NikPrice mpreg?

TW for mpreg and illness mentions under the readmore.

Nik and Price trying for a baby, knowing the odds are really long, given Price is in his late 30s. They’re prepared to wait, and even to let their dreams go unfulfilled.

Anyway, they succeed on the first try. After the initial shock of “We thought this would be hard?!” wears off, they’re really excited. And in Price’s case, very, very nauseous.

(Ghost staunchly refuses to stop calling him “old man”, though.)

The morning sickness passes with little fanfare, but then comes the migraines. They start in month 4 and finally stop in month 6, but it’s not an easy time. They spend a lot of time in bed with the blinds drawn and the lights off, with Nik alternating between massaging his husband’s temples and rubbing his belly. It’s not something either of them care to repeat but the intimacy of that time was something special.

Nikolai dubs the baby "Little Mouse" because Price keeps craving string cheese of all things.

By pure happenstance, they're cuddling on the sofa when he feels the baby kick for the first time. It takes another month before the kicks are strong enough to feel from the outside, but it's more than worth the wait. Nikolai cuddles up with Price's belly and sings to them.

They find out the gender at 12 weeks, but I think we can all agree no one in the 141 would be caught dead doing a gender reveal party.

No, not even if Soap was promised Tannerite.

The next time they meet up with Soap and Ghost, Price casually drops the fact that the baby's a boy. Soap jokes about buying blue bubblegum cigars to celebrate.

They don't have a baby shower but their small circle of friends do bestow their gifts. Gaz finds a baby sized boonie hat and makes sure it finds its way onto Price's desk.

Nikolai has never been prone to worrying, but there's definitely a few times he holds his breath in anticipation during Price's ultrasounds. Premature births run in his family and he worries he's passed the curse onto his husband and their son.

Anyway, Price ends up almost a week overdue. He's less than thrilled, but still thankful there's little risk of the NICU at this point.

Nik consoles him with backrubs and promises of a ham sandwich once the baby's born.

Price finally goes into labor while Nik’s off at work. Ghost is the one who calls the ambulance. The EMT is a bit of prat and asks Price if he’s sure he’s in labor. The trauma Ghost inflicts on him without ever having to raise his voice becomes the stuff of hospital legend.

Nik arrives at the hospital while Price is between contractions and learns that his husband is just fine, but their kid’s godfather made an EMT wet himself.

Honestly, he should have expected that.

Their son is delivered safely and with few issues. He's a really chonky baby at 11 pounds, 8 ounces. Nik stops calling him little mouse and starts calling him Baby Bear.

His real name is Aleksandr or Alek for short. He ends up with Nik's nose and hair and Price's eyes. Gaz remarks that he'll probably grow out a beard when he gets older.

"The girls will be chasing him," Nik laughs. "Or the boys."

The first thing Price does when he's able to get out of bed and leave little Alek with Soap is light up a cigar on the porch. He's still going to smoke on occasion, but he makes sure he's not putting their son in danger.

This ended up being way more than a smackerel. No regrets, the fandom needs way more Nikprice Mpreg.

[jewelysmith]

Day 2 - Down Syndrome

At some point in the middle of the night, after dozing off a few times, a nurse came in and said she was going to take Eliana to give her a bath. She asked if I would like her to be in the nursery for an hour or so so I could sleep. I wasn��t too hesitant to tell her yes, I knew I needed some sleep. I woke up after what felt like longer than an hour, and I remembered that Nick or I were the only ones that were allowed to leave the nursery with our baby. So I got up and had to ask where the nursery was so I could go get her. When I got there, my nurse was already heading for the door and told me to wait a second because she was going to get the doctor. I waited around for a minute and when she got back, she let me go in to see her and explained that her oxygen had dropped while she was there. She was hooked up to monitors and they must have went off and she turned a little purple out of nowhere. THANK GOD she was there when this happened! Part of me wonders now if they really took her in there because they suspected something was wrong. They were holding a little oxygen thingy up to her face and said it went back up in just a minute or so. They said they wanted to send her to the NICU for just a bit to monitor her. Ok no big deal. I went back to my room and tried to rest again. She came back a while later and said she dropped again. I thought well shoot, ok good thing they’re gonna check her out at the NICU. We figured she’d probably be there for the afternoon, maybe one night.

After a little while a nurse showed us how to get up to the NICU to see her. Find this door, hit this button and say this, take this elevator, pick up this phone and tell them this number. Sign this here here and here, and sign in every time you come up. Her room was of course the farthest possible walk, the last room in the last hall. We saw her hooked up to a ton of different things. Oxygen, little monitor stickers on her belly, and an IV that would eventually move to lots of different places on her tiny little body. Nick was really bothered by them pricking her foot and getting blood. She usually took it like a champ, but when she didn’t that sad little cry was just too much.

I was exhausted and dealing with the burn of the stitches, the IV still in my arm, and the nurse coming in every hour to push on my belly. I at least got to experience the joy of the sent-from-heaven ice packs. Nick and I were just hanging out in our room when one of the neonatologists came in to talk to us, sometime late morning. He said he examined Eliana and she had some of the features of Down Syndrome. My heart sank, hard. I’ll never forget that feeling. He explained it was because of the creases in her hand and something about her feet. He said they were doing a genetics test on her chromosomes and we’d know the results for sure probably by Monday. I don’t know what else he said, but once he left I just started crying and looked at Nick like what do we do? He just told me that it would be ok and got pretty quiet.

When we had the option of getting testing done during pregnancy to see if there were chances of any abnormalities, we of course did the sweet Christian thing by saying “well it doesn’t matter if somethings wrong, we’ll love her and it doesn’t change anything!” We learned that you do love them just the same, but it does matter and changes nearly everything. What you’re actually thinking is, abnormalities are really rare and that won’t happen to us. I even asked our doctor after he had seen our ultrasound, so nothing looked abnormal? Everything is ok? And he said he saw nothing out of the ordinary. What I was really asking was, the baby doesn’t have any kind of crazy genetic disorder right? Couples our age have a 1% chance of having a baby with Down syndrome. Pretty good odds right?

So we of course started saying those same things. It’ll be ok, we’ll love her and everything will be fine. But then the worries started to sink in about her future, all the things she might not be able to do. Will she live with us for her entire life? How will people treat her? Don’t people with Down syndrome have a shorter life expectancy? It started to become overwhelming and my head started spinning. So I came up with all the reasons she can’t have Down Syndrome. These features could just be random and have nothing to do with her having it. Even though at the time I didn’t even know what all of the features were. I googled “hand crease in newborn premature.” Because I of course thought, maybe the creases just aren’t in her hands yet, she was 5 and a half weeks early. The main thing that popped out to me said “Palmar creases develop while the baby is growing in the womb, usually by the 12th week of gestation.” So that was busted, she was well past 12 weeks gestation. I decided to put my phone down and not look up anything else. I didn’t want to see anything else that could lead me to believe my baby had Down syndrome. I was dealing with denial while Nick was slowly falling apart and making himself sick with worry.

Shortly after getting the news that she was going to be tested, Megan Digger and Myah came to visit. There was no denying we were in a funk, so I told them about what the doctor said. Nick started crying saying he just didn’t think he could be a good dad to her. They of course assured us everything would be ok, and I think I just chimed in with “well, she might not even have it so we’ll see.” I didn’t want her to have it. I remember thinking, maybe God wants us to have this worry for a few days and then she won’t have it after all. I went up to visit her with Megan and Jessica, who had gotten there by then, and then Nick and Digger saw her. Nick had to leave once they started doing some tests on her and poking her with needles. That was the last time he saw her for maybe a day and a half.

We just stayed in our room for a while, not saying much. We would hear babies cry in rooms nearby, and I really hated it knowing that everyone else got to have their babies with them and we didn’t. I also realized how often that lullaby played, these nurses and doctors had to be sick of hearing that. I was trying to figure out how to use the breast pump, frustrated by all the pieces that I couldn’t put together and only getting one drop when I finally figured it out. They finally took out the IV and kept asking me about my pain. Physically, I really wasn’t in much pain at all. My biceps were starting to get sore from how hard I guess I pulled on those handle bars during labor. I was of course uncomfortable with the stitches and the bleeding, but that didn’t bother me nearly a much as thinking my daughter had Down syndrome. I was sick to my stomach, while Nick started throwing up periodically. We would cry together and I tried to be strong and tell him God knows what He is doing. If she has it, He knows we’ll be able to handle it. A big part of me though was just in denial and relying on the fact that she didn’t have it.

Sometime in the evening that first night she was in the NICU, Nick’s dad and step mom Sharon came to visit. We had one more spot left on our “visitors list” that we had saved for Brian. He could tell Nick was a hot mess though and gave his spot up to Sharon, a decision he later regretted. I took her up to see Eliana but I wasn’t planning to say anything to her about them testing her for Down syndrome. But it was all I could think about as I was holding Eliana’s little hand and looking for that single crease, but actually trying to not see it. An older lady came in the room and said she was the geneticist. I already knew what was coming and was not ready. She mentioned the Down syndrome factor and Sharon looked at Eliana like she was trying to see it. The geneticist started mentioning some of the features of Down syndrome, lots I hadn’t had any clue about, and asked me, “do you see all the features?” I was instantly mad at her. I didn’t want to see any of it so I really didn’t even look. She babbled on about what health problems she could potentially have in the future and I was pretty much silent. Heart problems, Leukemia, thyroid problems, and it went on and on. She said “I don’t think you’re ready to talk about this yet.” I told her no I wasn’t, that I wanted to have the results first. I remember thinking the exact words: “I’m just pretty sure she doesn’t have it.”

At some point, Nick told me when he first saw her he thought she looked like she had Down syndrome. I didn’t hesitate in telling him that I did too. And he asked me, you specifically thought Down syndrome? And I said yep. There was no denying those little eyes were different. But it was a thought I quickly pushed out of my mind. That couldn’t be the case. She was a preemie and just born, so I was sure her looks would change by he next day. Thoughts Nick said he had, too.

Something I should have included in her birth story: It was of course overwhelming to see Eliana for the first time, but I didn’t get to see her little face for a while. They sat her on me for just a minute, not long enough to get a good look. Then they sat her on the scale for a while where Nick had a good chance to check her out, the moment he said he noticed it. When they brought her back to me, they laid her on my chest for skin to skin time. I hugged her tight and I noticed her little hairy back and her attached earlobes. I was proud of the earlobes because mine are attached, too. I even remember saying, I haven’t gotten to see her face yet really. When I finally did, her eyes were the first thing that stuck out. They were different; I just didn’t recognize her. I felt distant, like is this actually my daughter? Given that she was born so unexpectedly, way before we were ready, Nick would ask me, “do you feel like this is someone else’s baby?” And I did, but for more reasons other than the shock of it all. I feel bad now for not instantly realizing how beautiful she is.

At some point I started to feel guilty about hoping so badly that she didn’t have Down syndrome. If she had it, I couldn’t be wishing away something about my brand new daughter. I’d have to find a way to embrace it, eventually.

[aurora1dpreferences]

#391 - Premature Baby

Harry: 32 weeks pregnant and here you were, lying in the hospital bed after a difficult yet quick labor. It was too early, too early for your little girl to get here. You hadn’t even seen her yet. She was whisked away by doctors as soon as the cord was cut. Harry had gone out with her, following the doctors every step to make sure that she was okay. It was more for your reassurance than anything. Once the nurses had helped you clean up, delivering the placenta and whatnot, you laid alone, trying to comprehend everything that had just happened. It went by so fast, you barely had time to think about anything until now. The door to your room opened and Harry stepped in, running his hand through your hair. You looked over at him, concern spread across your features. “Is she okay?” you asked quietly, pushing yourself up as he pulled a chair next to the bed. “She’s… so tiny,” he shook his head like he couldn’t believe something that small could be alive. “Like… I don’t understand how she’s so tiny,” he shook his head, looking over at you. “Is she okay?” you repeated, reaching out to grab onto his hand. “She should be… she’s in the NICU… as soon as you’re feeling better, we can go see her…” he nodded, lacing his fingers in between yours. “I want to see her now,” you argued, but Harry shook his head, giving you a stern look. “You need to focus on relaxing so you can be okay for her,” he pressed. “Please…” You looked at him and relaxed back into the hospital bed, swallowing thickly. “Okay…”

Liam: The two of you were made to wash your hands thoroughly before you would be able to see your son. Born 12 weeks too soon by an emergency c-section, he had to be in an incubator until he would be able to eat and breathe on his own. Liam pushed the wheelchair you were made to sit in through the door as you followed the nurse to where your son laid, asleep in the small tube that was keeping him alive. Taking a deep breath, your eyes locked on him and your heart swelled. The tiny body was your baby. Weighing no more than 2 and a half pounds, he barely took up any space. “There’s spots on the side to reach in and touch him… as soon as he can breathe on his own, you’ll be able to hold him… the more skin to skin contact you have, the quicker he’s more likely to heal,” the nurse explained, showing you what she was talking about. You nodded quietly, instinctively reaching out to put your arms through the holes, making first contact with your son. Your eyes filled with tears as soon as you felt the delicate skin under your fingertips. His arm moved slightly when you touched him so you reached down to gently brush your finger over his small hand. “He’s so perfect,” Liam whispered, dropping down to kneel next to you, keeping his hand on your shoulder supportively. “He is…” you nodded quickly in agreement, rubbing your eye with your free hand.

Niall: One moment you were eating dinner, the next your water was breaking and spilling onto the floor. Being only 33 weeks, the math in your head quickly didn’t sense. “Niall it’s too early,” you breathed out as he grabbed your bag. You had just thought your contractions were nothing more than Braxton hicks. They felt so similar. “I know,” he nodded. “We just gotta call your doctor alright?” he said calmly, wrapping his arm securely around your waist as he grabbed the car keys. You nodded your head and found the number on your phone, calling and explaining the situation. She told you she would meet you at the hospital and you were on your way. The only thing you felt you could do was hope that everything would be okay. 12 hours. 12 hours of laboring and contractions. You had expected a lot worse for your first baby. The moment you heard her cries as she came into the world, your levels of hope shot up. Niall was able to cut her cord, his hands shaking and his eyes tearing up as he tried to focus. “Don’t worry love, you won’t cut baby, just me,” the nurse smiled, guiding him along as he finally got through. At one point the nurses had been worried more that he would pass out, but he was determined to be with you the whole time. You were able to hold her about an hour later. She had a tube going in her nose, but the wires were as non-invasive as they could be. From the moment the sweet little thing was placed in your arms, you knew that every second of your future was going to be spent protecting her.

Louis: We can’t have too many people over at once,” you reminded Louis as he had brought up the possibility of having his sister Lottie and her boyfriend come over to meet your son. “I know, but the doctor said three people at the most and they just have to really wash their hands first,” he explained, standing in the doorway as you sat in the rocking chair with your baby sleeping soundly in your arms. “I suppose,” you murmured, nodding your head and looking back down at him. Louis smiled to himself and came over, kneeling down in front of the two of you. “I know you want to do everything in your power to make sure he doesn’t get sick love, trust me, I do. But he’s getting so much better… he’s home now, that’s a great sign…” “I know…” you nodded your head, adjusting the blanket around the sleeping boys head. “But you understand the fear? He was so sick when he was born… so small… he was in the hospital for almost three months… I just… I don’t want to risk anything…” you said softly and Louis nodded his head understandingly. “And I understand that… he’s been home for a month… the doctors said he’s well on his way to being healthy and strong… I promise you that Lottie will wash her hands and be so careful… please? I really want her to meet him…” For a moment, you stopped rocking, looking down at your partner before nodding your head. “Okay…” you murmured. “Okay,” he smiled backm leaning up to kiss your forehead. “I’ll call her.”

(Okay, before you ask me where Zayn’s part is, let me explain xx I’m not taking him out of the preferences! Just for this one I feel like if I try to carry on, it’ll become dull x I’m really happy with the four parts I’ve written and don’t want to push myself to right some lackluster part. If enough people ask, I will add a Zayn part at a different time. Xx love you all and thank you for the continuous support xx)

[bringingthemupcornish]

Hi! So I got super excited a few months back and sorted out this proper blog once and for all, even got a domain name! And then life happened. But today I am lying here, totally sleep deprived, and I just have the urge to write. Sooo I want to talk to you about how you can never compare your child to any other children no matter the reasoning. Because I have 2 children who are complete polar opposites!

With my eldest I never realised that I had what would constitute as an easy child. He was born 3 months prematurely and spent those 3 months in NICU. So when he came home a week before his first Christmas he was already a good sleeper, fed like clockwork, and was really independent. He wasn’t all that cuddly, and preferred to sleep in his Moses basket or in his bouncy chair. Always small, but due to his prematurity it was his normal! And I was forever being urged to try to get his feeding up a few oz’s.

Fast forward to my second born, a full term 39 weeker! Needed to be held at all times, rocked to sleep, at least hold my hand while he was asleep in his next2me. This compared to my eldest was untrodden turf. In fact I have no trouble in admitting I really struggled. Until you’ve had a baby that will not be put down, never say parenting is easy! I was being told I was over feeding him, had to cut back on his milk which meant he cried ALL the time. Constantly and hysterically. Maybe hunger or maybe colic, who knows! But he then sprouted into the biggest baby I’ve ever seen- not overweight, just massive but in proportion. That’ll be thanks to his 6’5” Dad no doubt! Currently wearing 12-18 months clothes at 5 months old, on the 99th percentile for all measurements! All his growth scans predicted him to be about 9lbs, he was 7lb 10oz born, and has not stopped growing ever since (my poor back).

Ezra naturally was behind with his milestones because he was born early. He took a long while to sit and roll, he never really crawled. He could support all his weight on his feet when he was 8/9 months old and walked at 16 months. Noah is 5 months old today, can stand up (holding onto the sofa or being held under the arms) and support all his weight, can sit for short periods, and is soooo close to rolling.

Sleep was a doddle with Ezra. We had a very tiny flat, and Ezra ended up in his own room overnight at 4 months due to us disturbing him. His room was literally right outside our door, in fact there was no real difference in him being in our room and being his own except one paper-thin wall (we are talking the smallest flat you can imagine). Since then he’s been such a good sleeper. He’s had his fair share of the regressions but nothing unbearable and they passed. He used to sleep 14 hours a night, and still sleeps 12 hours a night even now at nearly 3.

Noah wouldn’t sleep at all at night for his first few weeks of life. He then got better and better until he was sleeping all night. THEN the 4 month sleep regression hit and nothing has been the same since. 5am is his morning. So unsettled, needs a feed in the night again. The slightest noise he’s awake. He has a white noise machine playing full blast just to keep him asleep for a few hours, and do not get me started on naps- what even are those? He fights them like nothing I’ve ever seen, until he’s overtired! A vicious cycle.

I know it’s so easy to sit and wonder why your child isn’t doing something, or when they might start doing something. Worrying they’re falling behind when you see other parents proudly posting they’re child’s newest achievement. Every child does things at their own pace, and I think my two are a perfect example of that. I know Noah will sort out his sleeping habits one day, just like Ezra finally learnt to walk quite late on. Ezra has just cracked potty training in the past few weeks, and I was beginning to think we’d never get there. But they do. Once they understand things, things become easier! They truly do get there in their own sweet time.

[michellelinkous]

‘It was opened for my little guy’

Jeremiah Young entered the world four months early.

Born in Traverse City on March 9, 2015, he weighed a mere 1 pound, 7 ounces.

That same morning, about 130 miles to the south, neonatologists celebrated the inaugural opening of the new small baby unit at Spectrum Health Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital.

The new unit—part of the hospital’s Gerber Foundation Neonatal Center—had been uniquely designed for babies born at 26 weeks gestation or earlier.

Babies just like Jeremiah.

“It gives me goosebumps when I think about the fact that it opened the day he was born,” said Anita Young, his mother. “If he had not been taken to Grand Rapids, then I am not sure he would be here today.”

Jeremiah is now a thriving 5-year-old gearing up to start kindergarten.

He loves to play outside and ride his bicycle.

He has one speed—fast.

Meanwhile, the small baby unit has solidified its place as a state-of-the-art facility that each year gives 50 to 60 of the community’s most fragile newborns a chance to not only survive but thrive.

“We are just completely overjoyed and so proud to know that we are a huge part of their journey from the very beginning,” said Krista Haines, MD, lead neonatologist for the small baby unit.

“It makes all the work we put into making this small baby unit the best (one) ever worthwhile.”

An early start

Jeremiah’s mother feels those early days in the small baby unit set him up to learn to fight hard battles.

“He really continues to blow my mind and amaze me. He’s pretty spectacular. He’s overcome a lot in life,” she said. “His resilience and his drive is amazing.”

Jeremiah was rushed from Traverse City to Grand Rapids immediately after his birth.

At the time, Anita and her husband, Cory, were licensed for foster care of older children. They were also raising three biological children—Jenna, Jacob and Jessica, who were 12, 14 and 18 at the time.

“We kept getting all of these calls for babies,” she said. “My husband was adamant we were done with babies. He said, ‘We’re done with diapers.’”

But when they saw the desperate need, they told their social worker they were open to a baby.

Very soon after, they got a call about an 8-month-old baby girl who needed a home immediately.

The social worker added that she had a newborn biological brother who had just been born prematurely at 24 weeks.

“I just remember calling my husband and saying, ‘Well, how do you feel about two babies?’” Anita said.

Love at first sight

When Jeremiah turned 4 weeks old, Anita and Cory drove from their home in Traverse City to Grand Rapids and stepped into the small baby unit for the first time to meet him.

“I loved him from the second I saw him,” Anita said.

She remembers the moment well.

“I remember just breaking down,” she said. “He looked so tiny and frail. You could see through his skin, and it was unbelievable to me that he could sustain life. I could not believe it was possible that they were able to do what they can do.”

They put their hands in Jeremiah’s isolette and gently touched him. They had to be very quiet because any noise could overstimulate him.

On her third visit, Anita held Jeremiah for the first time. He was 6 weeks old.

“That was another day that was just unbelievable,” she said. “The very first time they put him on my chest the tears would not stop coming. It was amazing. It’s a little terrifying too because you’re so worried about doing something to hurt him.”

She remembers the nurses who worked together to help transfer him to her arms safely.

“I have such a special admiration and love for all of those NICU nurses,” she said. “They are an incredible group of people. I will never forget.”

Providing parents and newborns with skin-to-skin contact—also popularly known as kangaroo care—as early and often as possible is a priority of the unit. And it’s no small task, Dr. Haines said.

It takes a team of nurses and therapists to do it safely.

“It’s not an easy therapy, but it’s one that we are really focused on,” Dr. Haines said. “We do a really wonderful job with skin-to-skin.”

The Youngs visited every weekend, while also caring for Jeremiah’s older sister, Joyce, at home.

During each visit, while Jeremiah rested on Anita’s bare chest, his oxygen levels would rise so high the nurses would have to adjust the ventilator.

“It didn’t take me long to figure out that it was so healing for him,” Anita said.

A gentle start

While the hospital’s NICU had always been able to care for babies born before 27 weeks, the small baby unit provided an environment specifically suited to their unique needs, Dr. Haines said.

This includes subdued lighting and sounds to help encourage healthy sleep and wake cycles for their rapidly developing brain and nervous system.

“We wanted to make their environment as quiet, stable and soothing as possible because they are so fragile and underdeveloped,” she said.

The unit employs specially trained doctors and nurses, as well as respiratory therapists, occupational therapists, physical therapists and more.

“We had all of those same players before, but with the small baby unit we were able to develop a cohesive approach to how we were going to take care of extremely premature babies with a special focus on neuroprotective and developmental care,” Dr. Haines said.

Thriving in life

Jeremiah underwent various procedures during his time in the NICU.

Heart surgery to repair a vessel. Two eye surgeries for retinopathy, an abnormal development of the retinal blood vessels. He also survived a sepsis infection and chronic lung disease that prevented him from ever bottle feeding, as well as other setbacks.

At 4 months old, around his due date, Jeremiah graduated from the small baby unit to the regular NICU. On Aug. 24—nearly six months after his birth—Anita and Cory brought him home.

He weighed 12 pounds.

The day before he came home, they had dropped their oldest daughter off at college in Illinois. On their way back north, they picked up Jeremiah and brought him home.

“It was a struggle,” she said. “We were hoping and praying this was all going to work out because it was all a juggling act for sure.”

But through it all, it felt right.

“It’s a calling,” Anita said. “And I sort of feel like it was part of our purpose on the earth. I really have a great desire and need to care for people.”

Jeremiah’s adoption, along with his sister Joyce’s, became finalized in June 2017.

He still faces struggles, including a slight vision impairment and mild asthma. He still has a G-tube for feeding, though that should be removed soon.

He participated in Early On Michigan, a system for helping infants and toddlers with special needs.

At age 3, he started preschool through a special education program.

“He loves school,” Anita said.

When schools closed during the COVID-19 quarantine, he missed his classmates terribly.

Now it’s impossible for Anita to imagine her family without all five of her J’s: Jeremiah, 5, Joyce, 6, Jenna, 17, Jacob, 19, and Jessica, 23.

“I really feel like they have rocked our world and blessed our lives,” she said.

And as for the small baby unit?

She’s pretty sure its opening day five years ago was meant to be.

“It was opened for my little guy,” she said.

‘It was opened for my little guy’ published first on https://smartdrinkingweb.tumblr.com/

[gordonwilliamsweb]

‘It was opened for my little guy’

Jeremiah Young entered the world four months early.

Born in Traverse City on March 9, 2015, he weighed a mere 1 pound, 7 ounces.

That same morning, about 130 miles to the south, neonatologists celebrated the inaugural opening of the new small baby unit at Spectrum Health Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital.

The new unit—part of the hospital’s Gerber Foundation Neonatal Center—had been uniquely designed for babies born at 26 weeks gestation or earlier.

Babies just like Jeremiah.

“It gives me goosebumps when I think about the fact that it opened the day he was born,” said Anita Young, his mother. “If he had not been taken to Grand Rapids, then I am not sure he would be here today.”

Jeremiah is now a thriving 5-year-old gearing up to start kindergarten.

He loves to play outside and ride his bicycle.

He has one speed—fast.

Meanwhile, the small baby unit has solidified its place as a state-of-the-art facility that each year gives 50 to 60 of the community’s most fragile newborns a chance to not only survive but thrive.

“We are just completely overjoyed and so proud to know that we are a huge part of their journey from the very beginning,” said Krista Haines, MD, lead neonatologist for the small baby unit.

“It makes all the work we put into making this small baby unit the best (one) ever worthwhile.”

An early start

Jeremiah’s mother feels those early days in the small baby unit set him up to learn to fight hard battles.

“He really continues to blow my mind and amaze me. He’s pretty spectacular. He’s overcome a lot in life,” she said. “His resilience and his drive is amazing.”

Jeremiah was rushed from Traverse City to Grand Rapids immediately after his birth.

At the time, Anita and her husband, Cory, were licensed for foster care of older children. They were also raising three biological children—Jenna, Jacob and Jessica, who were 12, 14 and 18 at the time.

“We kept getting all of these calls for babies,” she said. “My husband was adamant we were done with babies. He said, ‘We’re done with diapers.’”

But when they saw the desperate need, they told their social worker they were open to a baby.

Very soon after, they got a call about an 8-month-old baby girl who needed a home immediately.

The social worker added that she had a newborn biological brother who had just been born prematurely at 24 weeks.

“I just remember calling my husband and saying, ‘Well, how do you feel about two babies?’” Anita said.

Love at first sight

When Jeremiah turned 4 weeks old, Anita and Cory drove from their home in Traverse City to Grand Rapids and stepped into the small baby unit for the first time to meet him.

“I loved him from the second I saw him,” Anita said.

She remembers the moment well.

“I remember just breaking down,” she said. “He looked so tiny and frail. You could see through his skin, and it was unbelievable to me that he could sustain life. I could not believe it was possible that they were able to do what they can do.”

They put their hands in Jeremiah’s isolette and gently touched him. They had to be very quiet because any noise could overstimulate him.

On her third visit, Anita held Jeremiah for the first time. He was 6 weeks old.

“That was another day that was just unbelievable,” she said. “The very first time they put him on my chest the tears would not stop coming. It was amazing. It’s a little terrifying too because you’re so worried about doing something to hurt him.”

She remembers the nurses who worked together to help transfer him to her arms safely.

“I have such a special admiration and love for all of those NICU nurses,” she said. “They are an incredible group of people. I will never forget.”

Providing parents and newborns with skin-to-skin contact—also popularly known as kangaroo care—as early and often as possible is a priority of the unit. And it’s no small task, Dr. Haines said.

It takes a team of nurses and therapists to do it safely.

“It’s not an easy therapy, but it’s one that we are really focused on,” Dr. Haines said. “We do a really wonderful job with skin-to-skin.”

The Youngs visited every weekend, while also caring for Jeremiah’s older sister, Joyce, at home.

During each visit, while Jeremiah rested on Anita’s bare chest, his oxygen levels would rise so high the nurses would have to adjust the ventilator.

“It didn’t take me long to figure out that it was so healing for him,” Anita said.

A gentle start

While the hospital’s NICU had always been able to care for babies born before 27 weeks, the small baby unit provided an environment specifically suited to their unique needs, Dr. Haines said.

This includes subdued lighting and sounds to help encourage healthy sleep and wake cycles for their rapidly developing brain and nervous system.

“We wanted to make their environment as quiet, stable and soothing as possible because they are so fragile and underdeveloped,” she said.

The unit employs specially trained doctors and nurses, as well as respiratory therapists, occupational therapists, physical therapists and more.

“We had all of those same players before, but with the small baby unit we were able to develop a cohesive approach to how we were going to take care of extremely premature babies with a special focus on neuroprotective and developmental care,” Dr. Haines said.

Thriving in life

Jeremiah underwent various procedures during his time in the NICU.

Heart surgery to repair a vessel. Two eye surgeries for retinopathy, an abnormal development of the retinal blood vessels. He also survived a sepsis infection and chronic lung disease that prevented him from ever bottle feeding, as well as other setbacks.

At 4 months old, around his due date, Jeremiah graduated from the small baby unit to the regular NICU. On Aug. 24—nearly six months after his birth—Anita and Cory brought him home.

He weighed 12 pounds.

The day before he came home, they had dropped their oldest daughter off at college in Illinois. On their way back north, they picked up Jeremiah and brought him home.

“It was a struggle,” she said. “We were hoping and praying this was all going to work out because it was all a juggling act for sure.”

But through it all, it felt right.

“It’s a calling,” Anita said. “And I sort of feel like it was part of our purpose on the earth. I really have a great desire and need to care for people.”

Jeremiah’s adoption, along with his sister Joyce’s, became finalized in June 2017.

He still faces struggles, including a slight vision impairment and mild asthma. He still has a G-tube for feeding, though that should be removed soon.

He participated in Early On Michigan, a system for helping infants and toddlers with special needs.

At age 3, he started preschool through a special education program.

“He loves school,” Anita said.

When schools closed during the COVID-19 quarantine, he missed his classmates terribly.

Now it’s impossible for Anita to imagine her family without all five of her J’s: Jeremiah, 5, Joyce, 6, Jenna, 17, Jacob, 19, and Jessica, 23.

“I really feel like they have rocked our world and blessed our lives,” she said.

And as for the small baby unit?

She’s pretty sure its opening day five years ago was meant to be.

“It was opened for my little guy,” she said.

‘It was opened for my little guy’ published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/

[misplacedson-arch]

a much more detailed modern verse rundown:

abram was born in helena, montana.

edward and jenevive kelvin were the ideal parents. they loved each other, both had steady careers, and jenevive was able to be a stay-at-home mom. abram grew up in a house full of love and opportunities.

abram was diagnosed with asperger’s syndrome ( which, at the time, was still recognized by the DSM ) when he was 4 years old. he had always been easily overwhelmed and short-tempered. he would become very fixated on things and would have tantrums when those objects were taken from him. he had a few harmful stims he would engage in ( mainly smacking his head or pulling his own hair out ) and many stims that were harmless. different stimuli seemed to set him off, primarily noises and tactile objects. after his diagnosis, his parents worked to get him into therapy, where he learned to adapt his harmful stims into something less harmful ( he now tightly twirls his hair around a finger and gives his hair a light tug as opposed to ripping it from his scalp ). he was still irritable and one-track-minded, but he was able to cope with it.

abram was 10 years old when perry was born. perry was unexpected, as jenevive and edward were a bit older when they had perry ( 36 and 38, respectively ). abram was a little peeved at first when he was told he would be getting a little brother, but abram absolutely adored perry once he was actually there, and vice versa.

he did fairly well in elementary school--he wasn’t a straight-A student ( he did noticeably better in classes that could actually hold his attention ). he did pull out of all his classes with A’s and B’s.

middle school is where abram started to struggle, and age 13 marked the beginning of his drug use. his sensory processing disorder was starting to get more severe and his previous coping mechanisms weren’t working anymore. he struggled to make friends but longed for social connection. it just so happened to be the “troublemakers” who took abram under their wing. abram started smoking weed when he was 13-years-old.

age 15 is when abram really started to fall off the rails. he noticed that weed would numb his senses enough to a point where things were bearable. so when his friends started using cocaine and heroin, it didn’t take much convincing for abram to start using those as well. he started skipping school and his grades plummeted. he became increasingly angrier and lashed out at people on several occasions. his parents did their damndest to get abram the help he needed--there was a 6 month period where abram was in and out of behavioral hospitals and treatment centers. he would quickly relapse after being released.

age 16 is when abram runs away. his parents had confiscated his motorcycle but being the sneaky addict that he was, abram stole his father’s keys and took off on edward’s bike.

the next 4 years are a blur. abram sold edward’s bike the moment he ran out of gas in seattle and used that money for dope. he was consistently homeless and unemployed, either couch surfing or fucking strangers if it meant he had a place to sleep at night. he worked odd jobs and blew his paychecks off on heroin. every few months he would try to straighten up, maybe save up enough money for a shitty apartment, but he would quickly fall back into old habits. 

he was 20 when he realized that he would be dead before the age of 30 if he kept on like this. this time when abram checked himself into residential treatment, he took that shit seriously. 

abram met Kenrei while he was in treatment. she was finishing up her masters in clinical psychology. though their relationship is definitely inappropriate, the two became close. after finishing residential and sober living, abram moved into Kenrei’s apartment with her.

the next several years are good. abram and kenrei start dating after living with each other for almost year, he gets a good job at the garage ( the one that he now owns ), gets his GED, starts paying off his rehab bills, and between both of their incomes, they sock away a LOT of money into savings.

abram is 24 when his mother dies. Kenrei finds out she’s pregnant just a few short months later.

Kenrei’s pregnancy is rough from the start--she develops pre-eclampsia very early on and is subject to strict bed rest. during this time, the two of them move from their tiny studio apartment into a 3 bedroom condo in the suburbs of seattle and abram takes over ownership of the garage.

ample bed rest, a strict diet, and every other preventative measure in the book weren’t enough, though. at 28 weeks pregnant, Kenrei suffers from a severe seizure that triggers very premature labor, and though abram rushes her to the hospital, Kenrei goes into cardiac arrest during an emergency C-Section and passes away on the table.

of all the traumas abram has faced in his life, this is, perhaps, the most traumatic of those moments. his daughter, murasaki jenevive kelvin, is born at under 3 lbs. and isn’t receiving enough oxygen, which results in her losing her eyesight in one eye. she spends the next 4 months in the NICU and abram doesn’t even get to hold her until she’s 8 weeks old. he spends the better part of those 4 months in the NICU with his daughter, leaving only to check up on the garage and take care of Atilla. 

but after those first 4 months, murasaki, better known as sprout, gets to go home with abram. she develops normally after those first 4 long months. 

when abram is 27 and sprout is 2, he receives the news that his father has also passed away, and has left his 17-year-old brother perry all by himself. though the two have had no communication in 12 years, abram is quick to take perry under his wing. perry has one more semester of high school left at this point and is on track to start at UW when he does graduate.

now 31 years old--abram is still in that 3 bedroom condo he got with Kenrei. sprout is 6-years-old, healthy and happy. perry still lives with them, much less healthy and much less happy. abram has his art and his dog. 

[theconservativebrief]

Listen to this story as an episode of the Impact, a Vox podcast about how policy affects people’s lives, hosted by Sarah Kliff.

GREENVILLE, South Carolina — When Amy Crockett was in high school, she shadowed an obstetrician for a day, and absolutely loved all the state-of-the-art technology she saw.

“I knew right away that was the coolest for me,” she says.

Crockett ended up deciding pretty early: She wanted to be a doctor who worked with pregnant women. She went through medical school and residency, and kept learning about other cool technologies. “A lot of things I was seeing in training were like, in utero surgery for spinal cord defects and lasers to treat Twin-Twin transfusion,” she remembers.

When Crockett first started her job running a women’s clinic here in the mid-2000s, South Carolina was one of the most dangerous places for a baby to be born. It had the 49th worst infant mortality rate in the United States in 2005, doing better than only Mississippi. Rural counties had infant mortality rates similar to Third World countries.

Crockett began running an experiment to try to fix this problem. But her solution wasn’t driven by a new technology or innovation. It was much simpler than that: She had women in her clinic do their prenatal care visits in big, group appointments. The visits last two hours, and look a lot more like a support group than a traditional doctor visit.

In CenteringPregnancy, pregnant women have their prenatal care delivered in big, group visits.

Shambreea Pryor, of Greenville, has her stomach measured to help document the growth and development of her pregnancy.

Dr. Amy Crockett has spread the CenteringPregnancy program across South Carolina.

It’s a seemingly minor intervention — but it’s made a difference. Her research shows that these women have significantly better outcomes than those who receive traditional, one-on-one prenatal care. Their babies are less likely to be premature, which significantly lowers their risk of death.

South Carolina’s infant deaths have declined 28 percent since 2005. South Carolina has risen from 49th in state rankings up to 37th. While it’s hard to pinpoint one reason for that change, it’s all happened as the state has embraced public health experiments like Crockett’s.

“South Carolina has absolutely been at the forefront, from a state perspective,” says Jessica Lewis, a health researcher at Yale University whose research focuses on infant health. “I think they do serve as a model for what can be done nationwide.”

Crockett’s approach to improving health outcomes cuts against the American health care system’s obsession with the latest technology and expensive pills.

Her choice intervention — 12 pregnant women, sitting and talking in a circle of folding chairs — isn’t fancy at all. It isn’t expensive either. But there’s early evidence it could save babies’ lives.

Earlier this year, a team of researchers from Johns Hopkins University published a stunning paper in the journal Health Affairs.

They found that babies born in the United States are 76 percent more likely to die before their first birthday than babies born in our peer countries, like Canada, France, or Japan.

“I think a lot of people have this idea that children are probably healthy in the U.S.,” says, Ashish Thakrar, one of the study authors. “It turns out, that’s not true. The U.S. is one of the worst performers in terms of infant mortality.” Thakrar’s study finds that the leading cause of infant death in the United States is prematurity: babies born before 37 weeks of pregnancy.

“The rate at which US infants are dying from prematurity is three times the rate as in other countries,” he says.

With the name of their soon-to-be-born son written across her warming back pillow, Brookelyn Mitchell-Briggs and her husband, Jeffery Briggs, jot down some of the family traditions they want to continue with their own children.

Babies born early have worse outcomes than those who spend more time in utero. Their lungs are less likely to be fully developed, and their bodies less able to retain heat. Premature babies are more likely to get sick, and more likely to die.

America’s high preterm birth rate is, in part, driven by the fact American doctors will sometimes try to deliver extremely premature babies as early as 22 weeks of pregnancy because we have the technology that might keep these children alive. Other countries would consider such early births a miscarriage.

But this is not the entire story: Thakrar says that the data shows that these extremely early births account for only a small fraction (about 1 percent) of infant deaths. Something else is going on.

A growing body of research suggests it has to do with American women — especially low-income and minority women — experiencing greater stress during their pregnancy due to the lack of social supports.

The theory, essentially: A less-stressed out body might be one where a tiny, developing human wants to spend a little more time.

Megan Landreth, LeAnna Corley (a nurse practitioner student), Guadalupe Ascevedo, and Tianna Blakely (left to right) participate in an activity about group connectivity.

“Stress is known to trigger inflammation in a lot of other settings,” she says. “I think reducing psychosocial stress may help mute some of the pathways that lead to preterm birth. To me, that’s the biggest hypothesis of what is happening in here.”

America’s lack of a national health care system means women may go years without insurance coverage before they become pregnant. On top of that, having no paid maternity leave or child care subsidies can make planning for a baby’s birth an exceptionally stressful experience.

When Crockett started working at the Greenville clinic, she used to do normal, one-on-one visits with her pregnant patients. They felt too fast. Crockett would take some vitals, ask her patients if they were okay … and that was pretty much it.

“When the goal of the visit is to make sure you’re not sick, that takes a very short period of time,” she says. “But when you change the goal of the visit to prepare women to become mothers, that’s a totally different game plan.”

So, in 2008, she decided to start doing things differently. Crockett applied for a grant from the March of Dimes to start offering group prenatal care. The program she would implement was called CenteringPregnancy, which started in the mid-1990s in the Northeast.

Around the time Crockett applied for her grant, controlled trials of other studies were starting to show promising results. A 2007 Yale study found that the program reduced preterm births 29 percent (and an even steeper, 36 percent decline for African-American women). A study the next year, of women in New York City, found that group visit participants were significantly less likely to have babies that were low-weight or required NICU care.

Crockett knew that quick visits weren’t doing a great job. At the same time, she was pretty skeptical these group visits would do much better. She mostly thought these visits would be fun for her patients, and a decent way to clear out her overcrowded waiting room.

Program participants (left to right) Jeffery Briggs, Brookelyn Mitchell-Briggs, Caleb Owens Jr., and Landreth discuss with Corley feelings of anxiety about the pending births of their children.

“The idea that having women sit together in a circle for their medical visits would somehow improve their birth outcomes, I didn’t understand how that could be a thing,” she says.

But Crockett was quickly surprised: The results in her own clinic started to match those from others. “Even from that first small cohort we started seeing that our outcomes matched exactly what they were reporting from the randomized controlled trials,” she says. “That was when we really ramped up the research side.”

At the time, about 19 percent of African-American babies were being born early in South Carolina. And when you include all races, the number sat at 12 percent.

But Crockett’s results? They showed that only 8 percent of the Centering patients were having their babies early. What’s more, the racial disparity completely disappeared.

The study wasn’t large enough to show a decline in infant mortality (which, even though South Carolina had a high rate, is still a relatively rare outcome affecting less than 0.1 percent of births).

Additional research in South Carolina found similar results to Crockett’s. A 2016 paper, for example, found that CenteringPregnancy reduced the risk of preterm birth by 36 percent. It also saved the state money by preventing costly admissions to the neonatal intensive care unit.

That research converted Crockett from Centering skeptic to full-blown evangelist. She kept running the program in her own clinic, and urging state officials to expand it across the state, too. Because of her work, South Carolina is now the only state in the country where Medicaid patients routinely have access to CenteringPregnancy.

Crockett is studying these patients, too. She has enrolled 4,000 pregnant women across the state into a study that will see whether CenteringPregnancy reduces infant mortality.

Last March, I sat in on one of the CenteringPregnancy sessions at Dr. Crockett’s clinic in Greenville.

This was one of the last sessions for this group of women, who were eight months pregnant with round bellies. They sat in a circle of white, folding chairs set up in a bright pink room.

Patients would trickle in, have a nurse listen to their babies’ heartbeat, grab some snacks (a must at 8 months pregnant) and sit down in the chairs.

There was lots of joking and laughing; it was clear the women felt very comfortable with each other at this point in their pregnancy.

“We have fun, we trip, joke around, talk about everything,” Tianna Blakley, 36, says, and then repeats with emphasis, “Everything. When you don’t get enough support from the actual main person that you think should be the one to give you support, it means a lot [to come to the group]. It is better and comforting.”

b

Tianna Blakely and her daughter Anika Edmond share a moment during prenatal group time.

Blakely enrolled in CenteringPregnancy reluctantly. She already had two daughters, after all, so she knew what it was like to be pregnant.

“I thought it was going to be boring and a waste of time,” she says bluntly. Her views changed with each visit — as she actually got to know the other pregnant women in the program. “Coming in here, meeting everybody, it was better than I thought it was going to be. I fell in love with it.”

Blakely has a lot of instability in her life. She moves around a lot. Weeks before her due date, she wasn’t sure if her baby’s father would be involved in the child’s life. These sessions seemed to be a reliable place where people would listen. Where she could talk openly about the hard parts of expecting a child.

Tianna Blakely takes her girls, Corteice Prince and Anika Edmond, to the park to eat and do homework before heading to a friend’s home. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy last spring.

“It’s just being able to talk to people that actually would listen and not cut you off or not make assumptions or not judge you,” Blakeley says. “These were people that were going through some of the same things that I was.”

At the session, a nurse ran through a curriculum about recognizing the signs of postpartum depression. There were also tips about where to buy cheap baby bath tubs, and how to situate pillows for their growing body’s aches and pains.

The group also ended up on a lot of tangents, about new haircuts and Facebook videos they’d seen and what their babies’ astrological signs will mean. I was a bit surprised that the nurse let those run on for a while. Didn’t she want to get back to her curriculum?

She told me that the curriculum wasn’t actually the most important thing going on in the room. The main objective was creating a comforting environment for the pregnant women — a place where pregnancy feels a little less stressful.

Jennifer Bassatt, one of the patients I met, told me she doesn’t know a lot of pregnant people. Her baby’s father isn’t in the picture. The group makes her feel less lonely. “It’s good to meet other people who are doing the right thing, who want to have families,” she says.

Jennifer Bassatt, of Greenville, takes a quiet moment to soothe her stomach while waiting to schedule her next check-up appointment.

Hanging out with other pregnant women probably won’t eliminate all stress for Tianna, or Jennifer, or for anybody. But if it can dial down stress levels enough to help moms deliver healthier babies, that means these two-hour meetings are a pretty powerful drug.

South Carolina is now home to two statewide, randomized-controlled trials to improve infant health outcomes. One is the study that Crockett helms, which is looking at whether the statewide implementation of CenteringPregnancy is indeed reducing infant deaths.

The other is run by the Nurse-Family Partnership, testing a similarly low-tech intervention: having nurses travel to low-income mothers’ homes for regular visits during their pregnancy, and then for the first two years of their new child’s life. That program exists elsewhere on a smaller scale, but South Carolina’s implementation is the biggest to-date.

The idea, like Crockett’s study, is to take a simple health care intervention that has seen early success in small studies, scale it up to the state level, and see if it works.

Jennifer shows pictures of a baby shower cake to group participants Caleb Owens Jr. and his girlfriend Megan Landreth, both of Liberty, South Carolina.

To evaluate that program, South Carolina has contracted with top health economists from M.I.T. and Harvard. Like in Crockett’s study, they will also be recruiting 4,000 South Carolina women for the trial and publish their results in about two years.

“We’ll find exciting results in some cases or we might find disappointing results,” says Mary Ann Bates, executive director of M.I.T’s Poverty Action Lab, one of the evaluators. “But the encouraging and rewarding thing is that governments are willing to ask hard questions about their investments. I think this is really where we need to be.”

South Carolina has become a fertile testing ground for new policies that can help babies have a better start to life. But there is one obvious policy that could likely do even more to save babies that the state isn’t thinking about: expanding Medicaid.

A recent study published in the American Journal of Public Health found that states participating in the Affordable Care Act’s expansion of Medicaid saw greater declines in infant deaths than those that do not.

South Carolina is still in the latter category, which means that about 92,000 low-income South Carolinians who would otherwise qualify for the public program are currently not covered.

Pregnant women do qualify for Medicaid while carrying their child, but typically lose their coverage a few months later if their income is higher than 67 percent of the poverty line (that works out to an $11,000 annual income for a family of two).

Bryan Amick, a state Medicaid official, demurred when asked about why the state does not participate in that program. “I think South Carolina has largely been consistent with that of the rest of the Southeast,” he says. “Those decisions happen above my pay grade. It’s my job to implement the Medicaid program that we have today.”

Jennifer gave birth to a healthy baby girl last spring named Charlotte, or Charlie for short. Courtesy of Jennifer Bassatt

“It’s good to meet other people who are doing the right thing, who want to have families,” says Jennifer. Courtesy of Jennifer Bassatt

There’s no one reason that South Carolina’s infant mortality rate has declined in recent years. But these inexpensive interventions might be doing their part, which is exciting because these are solutions that are generally low-cost and scalable. It’s easier to bring a group of women into a clinic to talk for two hours than it is to bring a fancy piece of technology.

But for all its progress, South Carolina is still missing something it could do to tackle infant mortality. As Ashish Thakrar, the public health researcher puts it, “The easiest thing the state could do is expand Medicaid.”

Sign up for the Future Perfect newsletter. Twice a week, you’ll get a roundup of ideas and solutions for tackling our biggest challenges: improving public health, decreasing human and animal suffering, easing catastrophic risks, and — to put it simply — getting better at doing good.

Original Source -> Sit in a circle. Talk to other pregnant women. Save your baby’s life?

via The Conservative Brief

[aurora1dpreferences]

#391 - Premature Baby

(So... this disappeared??? I'm honestly getting sick of Tumblr not working properly. The master list and now this. Thank god that I had it posted on Wattpad too) Harry: 32 weeks pregnant and here you were, lying in the hospital bed after a difficult yet quick labor. It was too early, too early for your little girl to get here. You hadn't even seen her yet. She was whisked away by doctors as soon as the cord was cut. Harry had gone out with her, following the doctors every step to make sure that she was okay. It was more for your reassurance than anything. Once the nurses had helped you clean up, delivering the placenta and whatnot, you laid alone, trying to comprehend everything that had just happened. It went by so fast, you barely had time to think about anything until now. The door to your room opened and Harry stepped in, running his hand through your hair. You looked over at him, concern spread across your features. "Is she okay?" you asked quietly, pushing yourself up as he pulled a chair next to the bed. "She's... so tiny," he shook his head like he couldn't believe something that small could be alive. "Like... I don't understand how she's so tiny," he shook his head, looking over at you. "Is she okay?" you repeated, reaching out to grab onto his hand. "She should be... she's in the NICU... as soon as you're feeling better, we can go see her..." he nodded, lacing his fingers in between yours. "I want to see her now," you argued, but Harry shook his head, giving you a stern look. "You need to focus on relaxing so you can be okay for her," he pressed. "Please..." You looked at him and relaxed back into the hospital bed, swallowing thickly. "Okay..." Liam: The two of you were made to wash your hands thoroughly before you would be able to see your son. Born 12 weeks too soon by an emergency c-section, he had to be in an incubator until he would be able to eat and breathe on his own. Liam pushed the wheelchair you were made to sit in through the door as you followed the nurse to where your son laid, asleep in the small tube that was keeping him alive. Taking a deep breath, your eyes locked on him and your heart swelled. The tiny body was your baby. Weighing no more than 2 and a half pounds, he barely took up any space. "There's spots on the side to reach in and touch him... as soon as he can breathe on his own, you'll be able to hold him... the more skin to skin contact you have, the quicker he's more likely to heal," the nurse explained, showing you what she was talking about. You nodded quietly, instinctively reaching out to put your arms through the holes, making first contact with your son. Your eyes filled with tears as soon as you felt the delicate skin under your fingertips. His arm moved slightly when you touched him so you reached down to gently brush your finger over his small hand. "He's so perfect," Liam whispered, dropping down to kneel next to you, keeping his hand on your shoulder supportively. "He is..." you nodded quickly in agreement, rubbing your eye with your free hand. Niall: One moment you were eating dinner, the next your water was breaking and spilling onto the floor. Being only 33 weeks, the math in your head quickly didn't sense. "Niall it's too early," you breathed out as he grabbed your bag. You had just thought your contractions were nothing more than Braxton hicks. They felt so similar. "I know," he nodded. "We just gotta call your doctor alright?" he said calmly, wrapping his arm securely around your waist as he grabbed the car keys. You nodded your head and found the number on your phone, calling and explaining the situation. She told you she would meet you at the hospital and you were on your way. The only thing you felt you could do was hope that everything would be okay. 12 hours. 12 hours of laboring and contractions. You had expected a lot worse for your first baby. The moment you heard her cries as she came into the world, your levels of hope shot up. Niall was able to cut her cord, his hands shaking and his eyes tearing up as he tried to focus. "Don't worry love, you won't cut baby, just me," the nurse smiled, guiding him along as he finally got through. At one point the nurses had been worried more that he would pass out, but he was determined to be with you the whole time. You were able to hold her about an hour later. She had a tube going in her nose, but the wires were as non-invasive as they could be. From the moment the sweet little thing was placed in your arms, you knew that every second of your future was going to be spent protecting her. Louis: We can't have too many people over at once," you reminded Louis as he had brought up the possibility of having his sister Lottie and her boyfriend come over to meet your son. "I know, but the doctor said three people at the most and they just have to really wash their hands first," he explained, standing in the doorway as you sat in the rocking chair with your baby sleeping soundly in your arms. "I suppose," you murmured, nodding your head and looking back down at him. Louis smiled to himself and came over, kneeling down in front of the two of you. "I know you want to do everything in your power to make sure he doesn't get sick love, trust me, I do. But he's getting so much better... he's home now, that's a great sign..." "I know..." you nodded your head, adjusting the blanket around the sleeping boys head. "But you understand the fear? He was so sick when he was born... so small... he was in the hospital for almost three months... I just... I don't want to risk anything..." you said softly and Louis nodded his head understandingly. "And I understand that... he's been home for a month... the doctors said he's well on his way to being healthy and strong... I promise you that Lottie will wash her hands and be so careful... please? I really want her to meet him..." For a moment, you stopped rocking, looking down at your partner before nodding your head. "Okay..." you murmured. "Okay," he smiled backm leaning up to kiss your forehead. "I'll call her." (Okay, before you ask me where Zayn's part is, let me explain xx I'm not taking him out of the preferences! Just for this one I feel like if I try to carry on, it'll become dull x I'm really happy with the four parts I've written and don't want to push myself to right some lackluster part. If enough people ask, I will add a Zayn part at a different time. Xx love you all and thank you for the continuous support xx)

[makeitwithmike]

Born with Wanderlust

By Crowdfire

Crowdfire Spotlight — from small town Texas nurse to The Hackerette, blogging her way through more than 26 countries, this is Kamelia Britton’s story.

Crowdfire Spotlight chronicles the stories of inspiring Creators — their struggles and triumphs, how they got to where they are now and where they’re headed next.

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

― Lao Tzu

For Kamelia Britton, that journey would begin in the small town of Orange, Texas, where she was raised by her father and her grandmother.

Kamelia’s mother, barely eighteen, struggling with addiction, and unable to handle the pressures of being a wife and a mother at a young age, had left the family when Kamelia was only two years old. Growing up without a mother figure and being raised by a single dad meant Kamelia’s upbringing was a tad unconventional.

Not yet an adult, divorced and with custody of a toddler, Kamelia’s father went to electrician school so that he could provide for their family. He moved in with his parents so Kamelia would have someone to take care of her while he was studying and working.

Small town hacking

Being raised in a small town meant living a simple lifestyle — there was never a lot to go around and you had to make the most of everything. With a mini farm in their backyard, they raised pigs and chickens, and even grew their own vegetables. Her grandfather would make cornmeal and the Brittons would sell their produce at the farmer’s market.

“I was a life-hacker before it was even cool to be a life-hacker. I grew up as a baby life-hacker,” she grins. That’s where she gets the name for her blog, The Hackerette, where she chronicles her travels and life-hacks.

Kamelia’s early learnings in negotiation came from her grandmother. Always ready for a haggle, her grandma would go hunting down the sales racks at stores and find gems at bargain prices. She’d grown up repeating, “You can always get the same thing for a better price,” and passed it on to her granddaughter. Kamelia adopted this philosophy without question, out of necessity at first, and as she grew older, to stay true to the values instilled by her grandmother.

The motto that Kamelia lives by now?

“Save where you can so you can splurge where it counts.”

Kamelia enthuses, “You can’t always save, ’cause that’s boring. But you can’t always splurge, either. It’s more fun when you have this duality!”

“If I can find an amazing deal on travel, I’m super happy. If I want to splurge on accommodation, maybe rent a villa, then I do that. But a lot of times, I end up not having to splurge, because I still find a deal,” she laughs.

Her resourcefulness when it comes to scouting out the best deals boggles my mind. And also raises some envy. Ever heard of travelling the entire world for $325? Well, Kamelia has done it.

Her problem solving skills are extra strong given her profession as a nurse. Her friends call her Vanilla Ice, after the lyric, “If there was a problem, Yo, I’ll solve it” from the popular 90s hip-hop song called “Ice Ice Baby.”

“My life-hacking skills just became savvier as I grew up and wanted more things, and didn’t want to go without. I asked myself, how can I not go without, on a price I can afford?” She ended up seeking out ways to do all the things she wanted to do with whatever resources she had at hand, be it time, money or air miles.

Nursing dreams

Kamelia wasn’t bitten by the travel bug until she was 18. Growing up in a town with a population of 10,000 limited your creativity in choosing a livelihood, she feels. You were either a nurse, a teacher, a banker or a homemaker.

Not knowing what to do, but knowing she had to work to support herself, sixteen year old Kamelia started working at a drive-in serving food. But she needed more money if she was going to put herself through higher schooling.

One of her cousins worked as a nurse, and Kamelia started thinking about it seriously — her cousin seemed to like the job, made good money and had job security, the last of which was really important to Kamelia.

So she gave nursing a go and found out that she really connected with it. “I loved the technical aspect of learning about my own body.” She even found putting an IV into a human body and infusing liquids into it fascinating. “It just felt very futuristic to me,” she laughs.

“I loved that I could do three 12-hour shifts and then I could be off. The schedule worked with my life and I couldn’t see myself doing anything else for a really long time.”

When she graduated nursing school, working in between throughout, she became a Licensed Vocational Nurse (LVN) first. Then she went right back to school, to register herself as a full nurse. Since she’d never travelled before, she was itching to step out of Orange, Texas and see the world beyond. So when she got an opportunity to work in Galveston, Texas, she jumped.

The one with the beach

Galveston was a big city for her and the possibilities of moving away from her small border town excited her. She took up a job in a neo-natal intensive care unit (NICU) working with premature babies or preemies as she’d learn to call them. A year and a half later, she was itching for more.

“There’s gotta to be more going on,” she thought. And that’s when Kamelia heard about Travel Nursing.

Places across the U.S. and the world have a shortage of nursing so they hire people on a contractual basis to come there and fill a nursing position for an interim period. You get paid for accommodation and get a stipend.

It’s a great way to travel around. Having never travelled anywhere, Kamelia had never known what she was missing. All she knew was that there was more going on in the world and she was curious to explore it firsthand.

She’d never been to California. So she called up the nursing agency and told them, “I want to go to California.” The attendant nurse asked her where in California she wanted to be placed. “Oh,” she replied, “isn’t it all the same?”

“What about San Francisco?” the nurse suggested.

“Is that the beach?” Kamelia asked.

“No, not really. Okay, what about L.A?” the nurse asked.

“Nope, not L.A. for sure,” Kamelia exclaimed. (L.A. would be too crazy for the country girl in her!)

“All right,” the nurse said, “What about San Diego? It’s near the beach”

“Let’s do it.”

She’d never heard of San Diego. She didn’t know a single soul living in San Diego. She just took a travel nursing assignment for three months and decided to move there. In 2005, hopping into her car, 24-year old Kamelia drove across the country to California all by herself.

Technically, this was her first solo-travel experience. Halfway there, she was struck by self-doubt. “What am I doing? Am I crazy? I’m travelling across the country to work by myself for three months?!”

In for a penny, in for a pound

She hated it. She wanted to go home. She had a horrible work schedule, working from 3pm to 11:30 pm, five days a week. She had no time to be social. She didn’t know anyone, had no friends nearby and wasn’t prepared for living alone in a new city.

Despite this she decided to stay on. Not having had a chance to explore the city as yet, she was determined to experience it to her fullest.

She found a full time job in the NICU at a local hospital and ended up staying longer. San Diego has now been home-base for Kamelia Britton for 12 years and she’s loved it ever since.

“I felt like I finally found my people, you know?”

Yet she wanted more. She wanted to go to Italy, and she didn’t mind if she had to go all by herself. She started looking up Contiki Tours and saw that the group tours were priced at $2,000. She started saving up and telling her friends all about it.

“I was fine going by myself but I didn’t really want to. I also didn’t want to wait for anybody.” But two of her friends perked up and told her, “If you’re going, we’re going, too!”

They ended up ditching the tour and Kamelia found herself travelling to Italy with her girlfriends. “Once you set your mind to something and do it, you inspire others around you to take action.” It was Kamelia’s first overseas trip.

They spent almost three weeks travelling around Rome, Florence, Venice, Paris, and the South of France. She remembers thinking to herself, “I could do this forever.”

The Europe trip cost her thousands of dollars. She started looking for a way to bring down her travel costs. “I think I made every mistake in the book because I didn’t know what I was doing.”

She started researching frequent flier miles. She started searching on Google one day — one thing led to another and she found herself down a rabbit hole, into a wonderland of travel deals.

That’s where she learned about things like error fares and glitches in the system. She even got a profile on , Instagram, Facebook, YouTube and her blog on WordPress.

Ann is a Content Crafter at Crowdfire. She’s never been robbed, though she has lost multiple wallets.

Born with Wanderlust was originally published in Going Big — The Official Crowdfire Blog on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

The post Born with Wanderlust appeared first on Make It With Michael.

from Born with Wanderlust

[lifeafterbedrest]

Birth Story

12% of pregnant women give birth to premature babies. 4% of pregnant women develop gestational hypertension. 1% of pregnant women have placental abruption.

Chances are that if you’re reading this and you’ve had or will have a baby, your birth experience will be completely different. You will probably get a chance to start labor at home. You will probably be able to hold your baby post-birth and take some beautiful photos of those first moments. You will probably have had the chance at home to brush your hair and put on some makeup so you look decent in those photos. You probably won’t have been on drugs that fog your memories of d-day. You probably will leave the hospital with your baby. You probably will freak out when you get home with baby because you won’t have had 2 ½ weeks with your baby in the hospital where nurses constantly corrected and directed you in your baby’s care.

On the afternoon of Thursday, January 26, I was 33 weeks and 6 days pregnant when I was admitted to the hospital for extended bed rest. While my gestational hypertension had responded well to home bedrest for the previous month, tests shows that baby’s growth had slowed over the previous few weeks and that by week 33 he was measuring in the 9th percentile. This low weight caused my doctor to recommend hospital bed rest and induction at 37 weeks. Once I found out that my dogs would be able to visit me at the hospital while I was on bed rest, I reluctantly agreed.

The doctor ordered an IV stint to be put in in case of emergency which I thought was pretty ridiculous since I was going to be there three weeks. The nurse said she would talk to the doctor the following day to see if we could get the order changed. I sent Andrew home to sleep because I didn’t want him to sleep on the uncomfortable couch in my room. I told my dad who was on business trip to San Antonio that everything was fine and he should continue with his trip. I emailed my mom the flight attendant who was on a trip to Amsterdam that baby and I were in no immediate danger and not to worry.

At 3:30 a.m. on January 27, after maybe 3 hours of sleep, I woke bleeding heavily but in no pain. I called for the nurses who quickly came in. One of the nurses determined I was indeed having contractions, they were just so small I couldn’t feel them. Meanwhile, the other nurse quickly strapped a fetal monitor to my belly where we were reassured by baby’s steady heartbeat.

While this was going on I called Andrew again. And again. And again. Only to get his voicemail. Afraid the ringing of his phone would continue to fall on deaf ears, I called Chris Wrench, who lives in our neighborhood, hoping he was awake and able to go to our house to wake Andrew. I was in luck. While Wrench was hurrying to wake Andrew, I called my in-laws knowing they’d want to know what was happening. Between my father-in-law calling Andrew and Wrench banging on the door, Andrew woke up and made record time getting to the hospital.

All this happened within minutes. By the time Andrew was in the car the nurses had just finished setting up the fetal monitor so I was able to assure him that baby was alive with a steady heartbeat. By the time I was taken to labor and delivery, probably 20 minutes after I’d woken up, Andrew was already in the room waiting for me.

Things become a little hazy for the next 23ish hours, mainly because I was placed on a magnesium drip to prevent seizures due to elevated blood pressure.  At the time, I felt like I was totally with it, understanding and remembering everything. But days after I was discharged from the hospital I began to understand how much that magnesium drip effed me up mentally and emotionally in ways I literally cannot explain. All I can say is I was weakened (and I abhor weakness in myself) and events from that day aren’t clear.

Here’s what I do remember—I was suddenly placed on the surface of the sun. At least, that’s what it felt like because of the magnesium drip. I asked for the A/C to be turned all the way up. The temperature eventually became tolerable, although it felt like an icebox to everyone else.

Due to the physical effects of the magnesium drip I wasn’t allowed to get up for anything. Even the bathroom. So, I had a catheter put in which didn’t hurt, although it was weird to have someone empty a bag of my pee.

I remember the doctor telling me that due to my high blood pressure and the fact that as of that day I’d reached 34 weeks gestationally (which is a key time for baby’s development) labor was being induced and one way or another the baby was going to be born that day. This was my doctor’s not-so-subtle way of preparing me for a c-section as she knew I wanted to have a vaginal birth if possible.

I remember being desperately hungry. Due to the high likelihood of c-section I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink. An IV kept me hydrated, but nothing sated the emptiness in my belly or quenched my parched mouth. I’m pretty sure I entered a transcendent state of ecstasy upon eating a honey Graham Cracker post-delivery.

I remember the doctor coming in periodically to check my dilation only to find that labor wasn’t progressing.

I remember family coming to visit and keeping me company. I remember that Andrew woke my dad with a 3:30 a.m. call to tell him what had happened and that my dad immediately checked out of his hotel and drove directly to the hospital.

I remember us discovering that my mom was in-route to NYC from Amsterdam when I was hurried to L&D. Upon landing in New York and discovering that her only daughter had gone into labor she rushed to find the first flight back to Dallas. It was no surprise to me that she was able to get on the flight and make it to the hospital hours before the baby came.

I remember Andrew being my rock and my constant companion. To be fair, this had been the case all throughout bed rest and it continues to be the case now.

I remember repeating to myself a quote I’d read a couple days prior in The Book of Joy:

“[I]nstead of feeling too much sadness, too much fear, or too much anger, make an effort to change your situation. If there’s nothing you can do to change your situation, then there is no need for fear or sadness or anger.”

The Book of Joy help me maintain perspective during bedrest, and that perspective carried over into labor and delivery. There was absolutely nothing I could do about my situation but trust God and the medical professionals to make the best decisions for me and baby.

I remember the doctor breaking my water. Many hours after labor was induced I still wasn’t dilating and my water hadn’t broken. As a last-ditch effort at a vaginal delivery, my doctor said she was going to break my water. Do you know how this is done? No? Well, imagine a giant crochet hook. Imagine this giant crochet hook sitting on a tray directly in your line of sight. Imagine the doctor picking it up and then… It doesn’t hurt at all, but it’s quite frightening to see the size and shape of the instrument used to break the water which is why I resolutely kept my eyes away from the tray on which it laid.

After my water was broken I began dilating and having contractions in a textbook manner. I remember being surprised by how much contractions felt like terrible menstrual cramps. I remember getting an epidural and the blessed relief that allowed me a few moments rest before the real work began.

After breaking my water the doctor scheduled a time to come back to check on me to see whether I’d dilated enough for vaginal delivery. About 30 minutes before she was scheduled to check on me I felt the urge to push. When the nurse told me to not push until the doctor came to check on me, at first, I was like, “Okay.” Then I thought, “Wait, hell no! Tell the doctor to get down here because I really need to push!” Nurses went to get the doctor who confirmed the baby was on his way (No shit, Sherlock.). The catheter was removed and pushing began.

A couple notable things at this point in labor.

When I began pushing the doctor was holding one leg, the L&D nurse was holding another leg. The doctor then moved to her “receiving” position after saying, “Dad, come here and hold the leg.” “What?” asked Andrew, taken aback. “Hold the leg!” he was told by the women in the room. Andrew quickly and gamely held my leg as directed, getting a front row view that he hadn’t planned on getting. The plan we’d discussed for months was that during delivery he’d stay closer to my head ensuring that he wouldn’t see all the gory details, but once again, this pregnancy didn’t go as planned.

A NICU team joined us in L&D room. Once baby was delivered they’d do the immediate weighing and checking of vitals in the room before they rushed baby to NICU. Andrew would be able to accompany baby to NICU while I stayed in the room.

By the time delivery rolled around, it was the early hours of Saturday morning. I’d only slept about 3 hours Friday night and had an hour or so of rest immediately following my epidural a few hours earlier. At this point I was so tired that in between pushes my eyes closed and I started to fall asleep only to rouse myself when I felt the need to push again.

When most women have a baby first they push out the head. Then another set of pushes gets the shoulders out. Then comes the rest of the baby. But when your baby is as small as mine, he shoots out like a cannonball. As Andrew says, the doctor could’ve caught him in shotgun formation.

I don’t remember this, but Andrew tells me that as soon as the baby shot out of me, I sat up and reached for him saying, “Baby.”

Baby was placed on my belly, umbilical cord, birth fluids and all, and the only thing I could think was, “Holy shit. This is my baby. I’m a mom.”

Andrew cut the umbilical cord and baby was taken from me and handed over to the NICU team who weighed him and checked his vitals. Since he was breathing fine on his own, they wrapped him up and allowed me to hold him a few more minutes before he was whisked away to NICU.

Suddenly, after experiencing the most traumatic event of my life, I was left alone with two virtual strangers—the doctor and a nurse—since Andrew had been told to go to NICU. The doctor soon left. I asked the nurse to hand me my phone and I called my mom to come back to L&D to be with me, not realizing that my parents and in-laws had no idea that the baby had just been born.

My mom walked in to the quiet delivery room where I laid with only a nurse for company and she was probably thinking something had gone horribly wrong. I quickly realized that she had no idea what had happened and caught her up on the birth of her grandson.

Once I left L&D my hospital bed was wheeled to NICU where I saw my baby in his incubator and was allowed to touch him for a little while before I was taken to my room. After that I didn’t get to see or hold my baby for 24 hours because I was on the God-awful magnesium drip for that long.

Oh, and the cause of the initial bleeding that led to all of this? A partial placental abruption. Doctors don’t know what causes placental abruption, but it meant that the placenta separated from the uterine lining causing a disruption in flow of oxygen and nutrients to baby. An examination of my placenta post-delivery showed that it was “weak” and hadn’t been properly nurturing baby which is why he was so small.

So here we are, 6 weeks later, and my little 4.3 lb shrimp has reached his due date. He has fat on his bones, is getting better at breast feeding, and weighs over 7 lbs. He isn’t fussy, but he very frequently grunts and groans as he struggles to poop and fart. Other than that, he eats and sleeps because it’s hard work being a newborn.