Life in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for me, a young girl not in tune to the world around myself, was a daunting experience. I have very vivid memories of this place to this day. The first day I walked into the N.I.C.U. was four days after Steven's birth. This is because I had to stay in the hospital at Edwards AFB, while I recovered from my surgery. The process of entering the N.I.C.U. was very sterile. It was kind of like being a surgeon. Scrubbing your hands to the elbows, so much I though my skin might stay permanently red. When I walked in, there were about ten beds at a station and I think there were at least 4 stations. Steven was in a very accessible area and I was glad for that. Bleeps and buzzes were going off in every direction. Each time, I would jump thinking it was my child. The nurses walked around like it was no big deal (I didn't understand that until I had been there a few days…the machines would go off with the slightest movement and after a while you begin to distinguish the false bleeps from the real thing). We were also only allowed three visitors in at one time and with loads of family wanting there turn; it was like a revolving door of people coming in and out.

During the first few weeks of Steven's life he had continuous seizures. He also had trouble with his kidneys and heart. The Doctors came to us early on and explained that the lack of oxygen during his birth and the distress he was in for weeks prior to his birth caused massive and permanent brain damage. They explained it as, a normal person uses 10% of their brain, but Steven had less than 5% of surviving brain tissue and mostly in the brain stem (which is what controls bodily functions). It was most likely that he would only have limited functioning … heart… lungs… and such. Basically he would be a vegetable for the rest of his limited life.

One of the things basic to life is the ability to eat. Steven did not have this ability, so before he left the hospital he had a G-tube (Gastrostomy tube) placed in his stomach, that was so we would be able to feed him. After the surgery, the doctor put in Steven's chart that he should receive some painkillers when he awoke. The nurse in charge of him that day decided that Steven could not feel anything due to his brain injury and was not going to give him the medication. My Mom happened to be there that day (thank goodness) and we both argued with her about this. She had to draw some blood (which involved pricking his heal) and she took this opportunity to try to prove her case…well she only proved our case. When she pricked his heal he almost jumped out of the bed and he drew his legs back…she gave him his medication then.

After his surgery, we started to notice that his hands were contracting closed. I was then told these were signs of a disorder called Cerebral Palsy. They also told me it was not unexpected, because of the brain injury he had suffered.