Cooper's Story...Our NICU miracle

My pregnancy with Cooper was never easy.  We were so excited to find out we were pregnant (4.5weeks along) on November 14th, 2013.  We told my parents that weekend and then had Wally's whole fam over 2 weeks later and shared it in Wally's prayer before we ate. Wally and I did announcements at church and he surprised me by telling everyone so we hurried that Sunday and Monday to tell everyone else before they heard second hand.

That Tuesday, I woke up and Wally was going early to therapy about 6:30.  I started bleeding and we thought we were miscarrying.  Frantic, I got a hold of my doctor ASAP and went in for a sonogram and blood test.  On the sonogram they saw a blood clot called a sub-chorionic hemorrhage, but the baby was fine, praise The Lord.  I had to start being really careful and laying low with impact exercise etc... just the beginning of trusting the Lord with Cooper’s life.

We got to see the gender early at 14 weeks but barely.  Cooper decided to be stubborn until the very last second, which was par for the course over the rest of the pregnancy.  We had a fun gender reveal with friends and family on January 25th.

The next two appointments, 12 then 16 weeks, were good and everything was looking fine.  Our big appointment was next at 21 weeks.  This is the appointment that they measure and check for birth defect etc... We were excited and my mom, dad, and Terri all came.  The news we discovered was scary... Cooper was 4th percentile and they saw some absent blood flow through the umbilical cord.  We couldn't do anything at this point except wait and pray, but I was instructed to eat 3,000 calories and lots of protein each day to see if we could address the growth with nutrition.  Then we returned at 24 weeks to see how things were progressing.  Our prayer was that we knew God loved Coop more than we did and he was in his hands and our only option was to trust. 

I think God totally does this on purpose, but starting from the beginning of pregnancy, as a mother, you really aren't in control.  You can't see what is going on inside your body, and you are very limited besides eating healthy on what you can be in control of.  God is weaving a tiny life together inside you and orchestrating this tiny human being formed.  It is truly a miracle, blessing, and trial to have to sit back and trust that God knows what He is doing and doesn’t really need your help.

At 24 weeks we went back and Cooper hadn't made much progress and blood flow was still intermittent absent. I got a steroid shot as a precaution to aid in lung development and Dr. Viney sent me to the perinatal clinic hoping we weren't going to deliver this boy today. Miraculously we found blood flow and I just had to continue going once per week to check blood flow.  Again, at 28 weeks, we were scared again and thought Cooper was coming.  They put me on bed rest and I had to start doing nst and bpp tests twice per week.  We were trying to hold him in as long as we could.

At 33 weeks they measured Coop and he was a little over three pounds.  I knew in my head it was better for him to continue to grow inside me but I was sick of bed rest and really anxious.  I just wasn't sure how much more I could stand.  I just started getting a feeling that we were going to meet Coop soon.  At 34 weeks (a Monday) I had a big cry fest. I was all done with bed rest. I was pouting to God and anyone who would listen...ugh.  That Thursday we went back in and had a rough appt.  It had become pretty common for Coop to fail bpps as of late and not do breathing movements.  My fluid was randomly lower as well but they weren't concerned. We returned to the specialist on Friday. Another bpp and nst ...and I had a feeling we needed to get him out, he wasn't moving like normal.  The nurse randomly said to make sure and go to labor and delivery if something happened this weekend, and mentioned she thought this was gonna happen sooner than later.  I was checking out (the doctor said see ya next week)...The Lords intervention is the only thing I credit asking the biggest question of my life, but I asked about fluid leaking and she got a panicked look and said that's abnormal, we have to check you.  We then discovered that my water had broken and I was leaking amniotic fluid.  Wally went into protective husband dad mode and was straight forward with the doctor to tell us what this means.  He said we needed to deliver Coop today.  By the time I got to Dr Viney’s, she had set up a C-section at ORMC in a couple of hours...Dr. Locke would be doing it since he had privileges at that hospital and they had a NICU ...he was about to leave town but praise the Lord he was still there.  We went home packed quickly and headed to Odessa.

We got registered, admitted, and got ready to meet our son.  Coop and I were being covered in prayer and I was very calm as Wally and I headed into the operating room.  The surgery took a bit longer because they had trouble getting Coop out through my abs (I guess bootcamp worked)...

He was here! I heard a tiny squeak and couldn't believe that was our son.  4 lbs. 10 ounces, 18 inches...God had provided a miraculous growth spurt in the last few days...Wally asked the nurse if that he was doing okay and she said no, his lungs were in bad shape.  He was blue and they started him on oxygen immediately, as they hurried to get him to the NICU.  I got a rushed peak, but didn’t get to meet him until Saturday morning.
I was in recovery and wasn't able to walk until Saturday morning...so now Wally's perspective...

I got to meet Coop about an hour after he was born...I called into the NICU for the first time and said that I was Cooper Dunn’s dad (whoa that’s crazy!).  The nurse came and showed me the ropes of scrubbing in and gowning up...then showed me back to Coops bed. He had oxygen in his nose and they were really hoping they could avoid intubation. The nurse started telling me what was going on with Coop.  His cry was very faint and goat-like, and his chest cavity continued to cave in with each breath.  He was struggling and couldn't breathe.  She went on to explain the numbers on the monitor and what we should be looking for. I went back to update Micah and see how she was recovering.  My next visit back to see Coop, he was intubated.  He did look like he wasn't struggling as hard to breathe and more at peace.  The nurses told me he was doing relatively well.  Micah had started pumping during the night and I would take it to the NICU every two hours. In the early morning hours I went in again to check on Coop.  The nurses told me he had digressed to the point where they had to administer the first dose of surfactant, and he had responded well.  It seemed like we were looking up and maybe could get out of the NICU quickly....not the case we would soon discover...

Ok now back to me (Micah)....talk about motivation to get up and walk after surgery....I hadn't met my son and it was Saturday morning...slowly Wally and I made our way to the NICU...we met the nurses and Dr. Patel and knew God had provided great caretakers and we were in good hands.  We also learned the difficult truth that his lungs were in bad shape and he was a “really sick little boy”.  They told us to expect a “honeymoon” period where he settled into the NICU and just hung out for a few days as the medical staff began to make a plan and discover all the things Cooper needed to get well, but then to expect a “crash” where things got rough and they hit rock bottom. At this point, Dr. Patel told us, kids either fight and get better or don’t. 

The medical diagnoses, added medications, tubes, monitors, and procedures began to accumulate as the weekend progressed.  I was struggling as a momma.  I wanted to see my son’s face, without machines, tubes, and monitors.  I just wanted to hold my first born son, as I saw other moms around me doing.  But with each visit, even simply touching his hand seemed to aggravate and over stimulate him.

Sunday morning was Wally’s first Father’s Day.  He was exhausted, so I let him sleep and went in to see Coop by myself.   I tried to sing to him and pray over him, but with each failed attempt at words, tears rolled down my face and all I could do was cry.  This wasn’t fair.  This was supposed to be a joyous first Father’s Day celebration.  Instead we were asking God to save Cooper, to give him strength to fight and breath.  We were begging people to pray.  Pray for Cooper, pray for us.  We needed strength, encouragement, and hope.

Cooper’s lungs wouldn’t stay inflated, his oxygen saturations continued to worsen, and his respiration rate also kept climbing.  He was having to work harder and harder to get oxygen to his little body.  This became more and more noticeable throughout the weekend, and he didn’t look good.  It was such a struggle to watch our son battle with each breath he took.  He looked tired and worn as his little chest cavity caved in with each breath. 

Many friends and visitors came to the hospital that day, as well as text, phone calls, and messages.  Looking back, the Lord was providing in a supernatural way that day.  He knew we needed help and to know and experience the support and prayers we were being surrounded with and covered by.

Sunday night, Wally and I were about to go to bed and wanted to go see Coop one more time to say goodnight.  We scrubed in and were walking to Coop’s bedside when we saw him surrounded.  In the NICU, you never want to be “that” kid.  The one with four nurses and two respiratory therapist all wide-eyed, working on your son.  It had happened…the dreaded crash.

I’m so thankful for my husband’s discernment.  We had only been in the NICU about 5 minutes and Wally grabbed my hand, looked in my tearful eyes, and said we needed to go, it was probably better for us to not be in there.   I didn’t want to, I was terrified, but I knew we needed to. 

Cooper was worn out from battling to breathe.  Even on the ventilator and six doses of surfactant, his lungs just wouldn’t work anymore, so they had to add a machine in addition to his conventional ventilator called the JET ventilator to try to help him.  It beats about 420 times a minutes with little puffs of air to help the lungs stay inflated, and does all the work for the lungs.  It looks terrifying and basically just vibrates the chest. The respiratory therapists wanted to try and give Coop and his lungs a break, they were exhausted. 

I got about 30 minutes of sleep that night.  I was so worried and afraid.  I prayed.  I cried.  (Plus I was dealing with some major engorgement… another post for another day…ouch is all I will say!)

I was in a desperate place of wanting to do something, anything.  Yet, I was completely out of control.

That night, the medical team had had to resuscitate Coop.  They started bagging him in addition to all his machines and nothing was working.  He physically could no longer provide oxygen to his body.  His saturations were crashing and no medical interventions were helping. If Coop was going to make it, God was going to have to do miracle, to literally breathe life and breath into his lungs.

I’ve never been in a more dependant place on the Lord than I was in those moments and days.  The whole pregnancy and now with my new son, I knew God was gently, persistently calling me to trust him, even when my circumstances told me otherwise.  I was completely exhausted of having to be reminded of this.  Even still, He was and is faithful.

God had indeed given us a miracle.  He breathed life into Coop when Coop couldn’t do it on his own.  The song “Great are You Lord” by All Sons and Daughters became our anthem for Cooper. 

“You give life, You are love
You bring light to the darkness
You give hope, You restore
Every heart that is broken
Great are You, Lord
It's Your breath in our lungs
So we pour out our praise
We pour out our praise
It's Your breath in our lungs
So we pour out our praise to You only
All the earth will shout Your praise
Our hearts will cry, these bones will sing
Great are You, Lord”

I believe God let us see and experience this for a purpose.  It wasn’t fun and I wouldn’t choose it again but He gave us such a great analogy and picture to our spiritual lives.  Throughout scripture it is so evident that God is the giver of life and breath.  As believers, abundant life comes from walking in the spirit.  Apart from that, and in our own flesh, we only have death. Just as the ventilators (and God’s miraculous provision) were allowing Coop to breathe and live, the spirit (our “breath” and “spiritual ventilator”) allows us to truly live, abide with Christ, and have joy in all circumstances.

Although Monday and Tuesday (Days 4 and 5) were shaky, Coop seemed to be fighting.  When the doctor was rounding, his comment was “were still not out of the woods”.  It seemed like with every NICU visit or phone update with his nurse, they had found something new, added some other medicine, there were new orders from the doctor.  Wally and I  felt like we were taking a crash course in NICU medicine.  We were learning what numbers to look for on all the monitors, learning about blood transfusions, surfactant, lamps for jaundice, blood gases, chest X-rays, malrinone, dopamine, TPN, getting ECHOs of his heart, PDA valves, and a list of things we wished we had never had to learn about.

I got my staples out and was discharged Tuesday to a “courtesy” room and tried to go home and get out of the hospital for the first time.  Big mistake.  The combination of exhaustion, worry, sadness, and hormones going on inside of me was crazy.  I just cried the entire time.  I had gone to the hospital pregnant.  I wasn’t pregnant anymore.  Yet the nursery I had meticulously planned and set up was empty.  It shouldn’t be like this.

 I was also grieving and anxious because I hadn’t gotten to hold my son.  I was jealous of all the moms I’d see when we would walk in who were cuddling their little ones.  I was longing for the moment I could snuggle Coop.  He had to get to a more stable place before this could happen.  I couldn’t wait.  Until that could happen, we would just go in and hold his hand, tell him we loved him and how many people were praying for him, sing to him, tell him stories, and just be near him.

The next couple of days for Cooper were “steady” days, were we just hung out.  We learned quickly that these are NICU days to be thankful for to give you rest from the craziness. 

This week a new doctor (Dr. Harvey) was on and he was a fan of really pushing babies and wasn’t a big fan of the JET vent.  With the combination of these two things, he was determined to get Coop extubated (off the vent) soon.  He also wanted to be cautious with his umbilical lines and place a PICC line soon so we could prevent infection.  He also encouraged the nurses on Coop to start weaning different meds he was on for blood pressure and cardiac output.  I was excited but nervous at the same time.  I didn’t want to take steps backwards.

Wally and I stayed for two more nights at the hospital, but the uncomfortable plastic bed for him and hospital bed for me had us longing for the comfort of our own bed. Wally went back to work on Wednesday. We would travel 30 minutes to Odessa in the mornings and evenings together.  I would either stay at the hospital with Coop or come back and forth in the afternoon, eat dinner (thank you thank you to all those who blessed us with food during this time!) then head back to Odessa to say goodnight to our sweet boy.  Talk about hard.  I think Wally just began to expect that every time we started walking out, taking our gowns off, I would start to cry.  Although Cooper’s nurses were all amazing and I knew they were taking good care of him, it just does something to a momma to have to leave her son every night.

Wednesday afternoon was exciting.  I had gone home and come with my sister in law, Lindsy.  She had been to visit her family in Idaho, so I was updating her and telling her about the scary JET vent to prepare her.  To our surprise, we walked in and they had weaned Coop off the JET vent, and gone back to just the conventional vent.  Wow!  That was fast.

As the week progressed, that seemed to be Coop’s story.  He was making a miraculous comeback and a quick one at that (I think he is going to be competitive, he just loved proving the Docs wrong).  On day 7, they weaned the vent completely.  The respiratory therapists put on a high-flow nasal canula, to continue the balance of pushing his lungs to heal, teaching him to breathe on his own, and giving him a little help with pressure and oxygen to keep his lungs open and saturations up.  He became master Houdini at ripping this out of his nose, so his nurses always had to be creative with tape jobs to try to keep it in. A little sedation helped calm him down and relax a bit.  His bilirubin levels came down, so both lamps disappeared, and we finally got to see Cooper without his awesome sunglasses on and he opened his eyes for the first time.

We also had the indescribable moment of getting to hold our son for the first time.  Although it was nerve racking to not pull on any tubes or monitors, it was unbelievable.  We even got to take a “selfie” first family photo!  It was easily one of the best moments of my life.

The NICU roller coaster continued with ups and downs, steps forward and back, but ultimately we were moving in the right direction.  It was so evident that our family and Cooper were being lifted, surrounded, and covered in prayer.  God was giving Cooper miraculous strength and he was fighting hard to get better.  The oxygen levels and pressure on his high flow canula slowly began to come down.  His oxygen saturations improved and his respiration rate came down. 

He had an OG tube placed to start the process of waking up his digestive system and learning to eat.  We needed to gain steady weight, keep residuals low, and develop his “suck, swallow, breathe” mechanism.  We got to start feeding Coop a bottle as this process progressed and soon he started learning to breastfeed.  (Finally….pumping every 3 hours for 3 weeks was going to pay off)

On Thursday night, July 3^rd (Day 21) Wally and I called into the NICU to be let in.  The nurse on the phone hesitated and then said, “He’s been moved up to the 3^rd floor.”  I started jumping up and down!  We couldn’t believe it.  We had made it up to the “growing” floor and Coop got to take out his oxygen.  I finally got to see my son’s face, without any tubes or tape.  He was so handsome.  This also meant visitors could come and meet him and others, besides Wally and I, could hold Coop (talk about some excited grandparents!)

This also meant Wally and I got to spend the night or “room in” with Coop (super excited about that, not so excited to sleep on the tiny plastic couches).  We continued to work on breastfeeding, took the NICU parents discharge class, and were training to actually take this little dude home!

It seemed like we were in the “almost, but not quite” phase forever.  We so badly just wanted to take Cooper home.  His weight dropped, his oxygen sats were shaky, and it seemed like we might still be a few days out.

But on Monday, July 7^th  (Day 25), the nurse practitioner came in around lunch and asked me the most exciting question I had been waiting and longing to hear.  She said, “Well, are you guys ready to go home?”  I think my jaw hit the floor.  I was in shock.  I couldn’t believe it!  “Are you serious…really?” I said.

She was serious.  

Wally had gone back to work after the holiday weekend, so I called him immediately to share the amazing news. 

After one of the most difficult trials imaginable, we were finally going to get to bring our little boy home.  Discharge and Cooper’s carseat test took a few hours, so I ran home to prepare (or just freak out really).  I quickly showered and Wally and I headed back to ORMC for the final time (Hallelujah!).

The nurse went over final discharge instructions.  We loaded Coop in his carseat (he looked so tiny).  Wally pulled the car up.  Was this really happening….pinch me, I must be dreaming!

But I wasn’t.  After 25 long days in the NICU, God had truly answered our prayer.  God had walked beside us and carried us when we couldn’t go anymore.  He had proved so trustworthy and faithful each moment.  He had sent His angels to watch over Cooper. He had provided for our every need through the amazing prayers, love, and support of the Body of Christ.  He had given us strength when we had none left.  He had wrapped his arms of comfort around us, held us close, and drawn us near.  He gently reminded us that He is the perfect father and that we are his beloved children.

That Monday evening we arrived home for the first time as a family of 3 (or four, sorry Champ!).  We were so incredibly happy. 

There were loved ones in a welcoming crew with signs, cheering as we drove up. “Welcome home Coop!”  

Welcome home indeed.