All For the Love of Nathan

At 5:30 am the next morning, my pediatrician woke me. He said that something had happened with the baby. A nurse had called him around 3:00 am to tell him the baby was having seizures. He didn’t know why, but was very concerned. He decided to call Riley Hospital and ask for a transport. He said I had one hour to get in touch with my husband before they took the baby.

I asked if this is why I had not seen the baby. He exclaimed, “You mean to tell me that you have never seen your baby!” Out of the room he flew, and in a few minutes he was back. I was placed in a wheelchair and wheeled to the nursery.

Nathan was in an incubator on the top row. I couldn’t see him well because I wasn’t allowed to stand. After a few seconds, the nurse told me I had to leave.

I immediately began calling home. The phone rang and rang. I tried three times to reach Steve. Then I called his parents and told them what was going on. I relayed that I couldn’t reach Steve and asked that they find him. Then I called my mother. By this time I was beginning to panic and fear had its grip.

Steve’s parents finally reached him by phone. He had been in the shower. Every time he got to the phone, it quit ringing. All he heard was that he needed to get to the hospital and he hung up on them. He thought that something had happened to me because the baby was fine when he left the hospital, but I was having the violent shaking reaction.

Steve came in my room and was speechless. I told him they were going to take the baby to Riley Hospital. Everything was a blur. My mother and grandparents arrived. Steve’s mother was so worried, she climbed the stairs instead of taking the elevator. I was afraid she was going to have a heart attack when she entered the room because she was so scared and perspiring so heavily.

My pediatrician came into the room and informed us that the Riley team had arrived. The baby was placed on a warmer and required 100% oxygen. He stated that he still didn’t know what was happening because the baby was fine when he left him in the nursery the night before.

The team wheeled Nathan into my room for me to see him before they left. He was in an incubator. His eyes were taped closed, he had a needle in his scalp, and he was covered in wires. All I could see was a little bit of one hand and his forehead. He was wrapped tightly in a hospital blanket. I went weak. I wanted to memorize this moment so that I wouldn’t forget what he looked like. I tried to prepare myself, but there is no class in losing a child. No one had spoken in our prenatal classes about what happens when a child has problems, quits breathing, or has seizures. Nothing in life had prepared me for this moment—except my premonition.

I could hear the woman in the bed next to me weeping. I began seeing everyone as a blur. I couldn’t focus and I was trying hard not to totally give in to the stream of tears behind my eyes. I wanted to be brave, but my heart ached and my mind could no longer function.

Steve was asked not to follow the ambulance, as Nathan might not make it to Riley. They would call us as soon as they reached the hospital and let us know if he was still alive.

They moved me to a room away from the nursery so I wouldn’t continue to hear the babies crying across the hall. And we waited for the call. We had a phone beside my bed and Riley could place the call directly to me. I knew I was emotional and was afraid I might not comprehend what the doctor had to say when he called. I decided to have a pen and paper ready so I could write everything down in shorthand.

Finally the call came. The first words were: “The baby is fine. You need to consider suing. Since we left Bloomington the baby is off the warmer and coming off the oxygen.” Steve left immediately for Indianapolis. My mother stayed with me.

I think I went in and out of sleep as I waited for word. I was praying for Nathan and I knew others were also covering him with prayer. The rest of the day seemed like a fog to me.

Later that afternoon my grandmother came to visit me. As she passed some nurses in the hall, she overheard one say “Wasn’t it awful what they did to that Freeman baby?” She came to my room very upset and relayed the conversation. One nurse said someone had stuck a needle in the baby’s head and hurt him. Knowing she was already upset about the baby, I concluded that she had misunderstood. I told her that they placed an IV in his scalp and that is probably what she overheard. I couldn’t account for the part of the conversation about it being “awful what they did...”