I had to read an amazing blog entry today as an assignment for nursing school.I have just started Nursing Process III, which focuses on OB and pediatrics. If you have a moment, read this beautiful blog about a mother's emotional story of her second daughters birth - a daughter who was unexpectedly born with Down syndrome.
http://www.kellehampton.com/2010/01/nella-cordelia-birth-story.html
I had to respond to this beautiful blog and say how reading the entry would help me grow and develop as a registered nurse. I have to admit, I cried real tears as I read this blog. It reminded me so much of the days and weeks we experienced after the birth of Isabelle. I could relate with this mother as her world was turned upside down. I am going to post what I wrote for my class because Izzy is my reason for becoming a nurse and the experiences I had with her in the NICU will hopefully define the kind of nurse I become. Here it is:
Kelly Hampton’s blog
about the birth of her daughter who was diagnosed with down syndrome is not
only emotional and inspiring, it is also educational. This beautifully written blog on the birth of
Nella can help nursing students, like myself, peek into the internal drama
families are experiencing during the births of their long-awaited
children. As we gain experience working
in the clinical setting, it is easy to become callous to the seriousness of
what is going on around us. After a while, patients can become tasks instead of
people – checklists instead of souls. Every single patient we come into contact
with has a journey and a story that lead them to this moment in the
hospital. And, even in situations where
their hospital experience is joyous (a healthy baby, a pleasant birthing
experience, etc.), our presence in one of the most defining moments of their
life should not be taken lightly. Now, and when I become a registered nurse, I
want to remember that it is an honor to be a small part of our patients’ lives.
Especially when the unexpected happens – or when a family receives devastating
news. I can make a difference in the way I react and the way I interact with
patients and their families. Kelly speaks very fondly of her family pediatrician
that had to tell her that Nella had features that made her suspect that she had
down syndrome. She remembers the exact powerful words her doctor spoke to her
in that moment: “The first thing I’m going to tell you is that your daughter is
beautiful and perfect…”
I speak from
experience, and I can very much relate to Kelly’s writing on the birth of her
second child. My first daughter brought us on a similar roller coaster ride
when she was born. I had the perfect
pregnancy – healthy, healthy, healthy. The only issue at all was that my
stubborn baby was breach – so I had to schedule a c-section. But, I was not too
worried, this unexpected turn of events enabled me and my family to have a real
action plan. I could wear makeup to the hospital!! I could plan out my visitors
and have them stop by at specific times! Grandparents could schedule to be off
of work! I was stoked about the c-section by the time the day arrived.
However, only minutes
after an uneventful surgery, my beautiful little girl’s heart rate raced to over
300 bpm. Even in my fuzzy, drug-induced haze after surgery, I can remember the
face of every nurse and doctor I came into contact with during the days we
spent in the NICU.
I can still see the
face of the nurse that scolded me for nursing my baby too long. I vividly
recall the lactation consultant who spent hours with me discussing how to feed
my underweight baby, showing me how to get her to latch on, and encouraging me
when I felt defeated. I can clearly see the backs of seven or eight doctors and
nurses hovered over my baby, and I remember the panic I felt as I watched my
three week old baby flat-line three times. Later, I was told that she was
expected to flat line – that the doctors themselves had given my baby a
medication (adenosine) to stop her heart in hopes that it would restart at a
slower rate. But, no one informed me. Not a single nurse spoke to me as I
watched the code cart roll into the tiny ER room (just in case - I found out
later). One nurse could have made a big different in my life in that moment – a
scared, new mom ignorantly looking on from the back of the crowded room. There were
so many doctors and nurses, some only hovering around perhaps watching, or
perhaps awaiting an order– it is truly sad that no one thought to speak with
the mom in the back watching her newborn struggle.
However, that moment
was defining for me. Though the struggles with my first daughter’s health and
the experiences I had in the hospital, I was inspired to make a career change
from a teacher to a nurse.
And, after reading
Kelly’s blog I am reminded of how defining these moments are for our patients.
I want to grow and develop into a nurse that recognizes how to be present in
these critical moments – how to help and encourage, instead of brush off and
avoid. I want to be a nurse that is committed to doing her job while retaining
her human capacity for empathy. I want to be the nurse that would have taken a
second to recognize and connect with me at the back of the room.
