I should have heard from them by now, I thought to myself. Something isn’t right.
I pulled out my phone and dialed his number.
“Hello?”
On the other end of the phone, I heard my younger brother, Ned, rushing to his car.
My heart stopped.
“Is everything ok?”
“No.”
It was the longest, most straightforward “no” I could have imagined. The exact opposite of what I needed to hear.
“Katie is in the ambulance, on her way to Froedtert.”
***
About one year ago, Tommy and I came home from a date night to find my brother, Ned, and his wife, Katie, had dressed Gracey in a printed onesie: “I’m going to be a big cousin!” Katie and Ned then told us news we’d been waiting years to hear — they were expecting. Through happy screams and tears of joy, I quickly apologized for hugging Katie too tight — afterall, there was a baby in her belly. Actually … there were two. 🙂
Twins. Two beating hearts. Two flickers of love on the ultrasound screen. Two precious souls and two additional members to our family.
As any parent knows, the strongest feelings of love begin the moment you realize you’re carrying new life. Katie and Ned experienced the joy of two little lives for several weeks, but ultimately, one of the twin’s heart stopped beating. They were left to mourn the loss of one child while celebrating the life of the other. Through his tears, Ned explained, “I went from feeling very, very, very blessed, to very, very blessed.”
But this isn’t where their struggles ended.
As the weeks passed, a healthy baby boy continued to grow. Two months before the due date, my sister-in-law, Missy, and I threw Katie a baby shower. If only this baby bump could talk …
The very next morning, I woke up to a few messages from Ned — not to worry, he said, but they were at the hospital. Katie wasn’t feeling herself — she was having some pain in her right side with pretty intense nausea and heart burn. Over the next few hours, I chatted back and forth with them via texting and phone calls — I last spoke with Katie over the phone as I was giving Gracey lunch. They had just administered her some pain meds and she was beginning to feel a bit better, she said. She should be discharged soon, we all thought.
But that’s when I didn’t hear back.
Katie’s doctor came rushing up to her room. With lab results in her hands and sweat dripping down her face, she diagnosed Katie with HELLP syndrome. HELLP syndrome is a life-threatening complication for both the mother and the baby. The only way to reverse its affects is to deliver. As the doctor explained the syndrome, Katie was flipped on her side and given a steroid shot for the baby’s lung development. She was then loaded into an ambulance for the 60-mile drive to Froedtert, where an emergency c-section would be performed. She was 32 weeks along.
Over the next couple of hours, my family and Katie’s parents sat together in a Froedtert waiting room, and … we waited. We clenched our fists, stared at the clock, paced the hallway, and prayed. Finally, a picture message came through.
Meet my brother’s little boy, Griffin Trae. Katie was stabilizing, though not yet able to see Griffin. When Griffin was born, he stopped breathing a couple times, which is supposedly typical for a baby born that early, but when Ned told me he had to watch Griffin turn blue, my heart sank. It’s amazing what people can endure in a day’s time, without warning. I know it’s only by God’s grace that Katie, Ned and Griffin made it through.
I went with Ned to the Children’s Hospital NICU when Griffin was just an hour or two old — I took some photos so Katie could see her baby’s face.
The first time I saw Griffin, I thought three things: 1. He’s absolutely beautiful. 2. He looks amazing for being just 32 weeks. 3. He looks like my dad.
Over the next several weeks, I visited Griffin any chance I could get. After Katie was discharged, she stayed with us at night. Ned had to return to work, but he still made the two-hour round trip drive every night to see his little buddy.
This is one of the last photos I took of my nephew at Children’s, and one of my favorites. He was released after 3.5 weeks.
Today marks Griffin’s 5 month birthday — he is doing exceptionally well. He’s the happiest, most chill, most wide-grinned baby I know. Thank you God for such a blessing.
I decided to share Griffin’s story now for a couple reasons. First, I didn’t want to share their story too soon. Many of the photos I take for my family are personal, and during such a sensitive time, I want nothing more than to respect their privacy.
Second, I want to help. Katie put together a team for a March of Dimes walk — I will be walking in honor of Griffin on May 4. I have a personal goal to help raise money for babies who are less fortunate than my nephew. Click here if you’d like to make a donation — no matter how big or small, every donation helps.
A special thanks to the doctors, nurses and other professionals at Froedtert and Children’s Hospital, not only for your exceptional care, but also for letting me take these photos.
Again, if you’d like to help, please click here. Thank you, thank you, thank you! No donation will go unappreciated when it comes to the lives of these precious babies. 🙂
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