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My husband, David, was on his way back to work for the first time after the twins were born. We had called into the NICU real early that morning to see how the twins were doing. We noticed some nervous answers when it came to Austin. They basically told us that his stomach had started to swell during the night and the Neo's were watching him closely; but nothing was determined yet. So, David, feeling like he had no choice, left for work.
At around 8:30AM, I was phoned by the Neonatologist, personally; I knew this was serious. He informed me that Austin would be going to surgery immediately, and for me to get there ASAP. I even had to give them consent over the phone incase I could not get there in time! I phoned my husband; then I ran next door and asked for a ride. David was able to come back for me so we could go to the hospital together . . .
By 9:30AM the NICU waiting room was filled with me and my husband, the pastor, and my mother and father. We were all anxiously waiting to hear from the surgeon. A Neonatologist had informed us that Austin was suffering from Necrotizing Enterocolitis (NEC) that resulted in a perforated bowel. For any premature baby this was a serious condition, and could mean life or death. The surgeon finally came to advise us. He basically said, "Pray and cross your fingers, he is so few days of age and so little in weight . . . his strength to pull through will be limited. So go spend a few minutes with Austin." This told us that Austin's odds were against him, and that his chances were slim.
Crying, by now, seemed to have no end. A sea of tears had been shed since April 14th, and now there was to be more . . . We all gathered around and just began to pray while each of us took our turn to be with Austin. I was the last to go see him, and my words were the last for him to hear.
While at his side, I spoke these words. "Austin, my dear, sweet, tiny boy, YOU PROVE THEM WRONG; honey you fight! Austin if you pull through, I, your mommy will dedicate my life to you and your sister, and to any other family that is drawn into this world of prematurity. Please, Austin, draw your strength from me, and from all others praying for you! Fight, Austin, Fight!"
Not long after I spoke these words, they began the process of taking my dear, sweet, tiny boy to surgery. Everybody gathered in the hall to watch him go . . . and for the next two hours we waited . . .
on to: A Mother's Tears
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