Hunter spent the first three months of his life at the hospital. MY mom would visit him every day and my other brothers and I each got a weekly visit to see him. Mine were late in the evenings- I think Tuesday or Wednesdays. The first 10 minutes at the hospital was an extensive scrubbing using plastic disposable scrubbers. For an hour a week I would get to hold his hand through a plastic box, and eventually they let me hold him and feed him. The preemie outfits were way to big and his skin was still very fresh so he usually was naked with just a diaper on him. The diapers looked more like the size of a maxi pad with tape on the sides and he looked so silly because it would go from his armpits down to his knees- he was so tiny! At birth he weighed 1lbs 9 oz and I think dropped down to 1lbs 2 oz right at the beginning. For comparison sake- his arms and legs were the size of a lady's finger (length and width), all of his fingers would fit on my mom's thumb nail, his head was the size of an orange and his little... ahem... was more of a rice krispie.
Looking back at some of the pictures of Hunter with me and my brothers Erick and Collin- you can see the hope, fear, and compassion in our eyes even though we were only 12, 6 and 3. My mom would leave me to talk to him with my hand reached through the incubator and I could gently place my hand on his back. He really didn't open his eyes but every once in a while he would mom a little bit. The first time I held Hunter was when he reached three pounds and it was called "kangarooing." My mom had me wear a button up shirt without a bra (not that I really needed one at twelve) and at the hospital I unbuttoned the top buttons and one nurse carried the wires and vent tubing while
another placed Hunter on my bare chest, tummy down wearing only a diaper. Vent tubing and wires were taped to my arm. He fit so perfectly under my chin and both of my hands could cover his bare body completely.
There are many proven benefits to Kangaroo Care. In fact, of the several
hundred studies done to date, every study has yielded positive results. For the
parent (or sister in my case), Kangaroo Care promotes earlier bonding. For the babies, Kangaroo Care
regulates breathing, stabilizes heart rates, regulates the baby's body heat,
stimulates more rapid weight gain, shortens hospital stay and allows baby longer
periods of alertness and sleep. I have to admit, the experience was magical.
Once he was big enough for me to feed I would cradle him and was given a small bottle - the size of a doll's bottle- to feed him with. The milk was measured in CC's and was like an amount of a cough syrup dose. His head would be in my hand and I would count his sips then release the bottle so he would take a breath. After 10 sips I would give him a chance for a breath and if he didn't get enough air his alarms would go off. The alarms panicked me at first- but it isn't uncommon for alarms to go off in the nicu and the babies always bounced back.
Genetics and biology plays a big role in the survival of preemies. Statistics show that African Americans and females have a higher success rate in premature births. As a Caucasian male Hunter only had his namesake and his family to help him get better.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Starting Somewhere
I'm new to the blogging world and my husband tends to be the savvy one with the computer, so please forgive me as I straighten this out because, truth is, this blog and sharing my brother's story is really important to me. In summary, he has severe cerebral palsy although my mother would rather it be diagnosed as severe brain trauma. The blogs will be about my role as a sister to Hunter. The older stories may be a little foggy on the details but I will try my best. I guess we all have to start somewhere!
My brother, Hunter is 14 years old. I am twelve years his senior and I have two other brothers (three and six years older than Hunter) as well. I remember finding out my mom was pregnant and thinking, "Finally the opportunity for a sister!" and I remember my little league cheer leading coach getting mad at my mom for demonstrating a simple stunt just before sharing her special condition. I guess I always assumed it was my mom's three year itch to have another child- of course I credit myself for being the perfect child they wanted to clone and, by golly, they were going to keep trying till they got another me.
January 22nd I got off the bus and my mom's best friend, our neighbor was there to greet me. I don't remember all the specifics but I know I found out my mom went to the hospital, I know that eventually that evening I learned that my mom was delivering early and I know that the next day at school I milked the situation with my teachers of why my homework wasn't completed. There must have been some sort of awareness that things were terribly wrong- my mom wasn't suppose to deliver until late April- but I saw my mom as my rock and a person who would always be there no matter what. She seemed so strong and in control I never doubted the news I wold find out.
My mother was in the hospital and my new baby brother was flown to a different hospital. He was 1lbs 9 oz. at birth and my mother was really sick too. I can't remember what I was told or who told me but I knew that both my mother and brother were near death and needed all the prayers and thoughts they could get.
My step father took me to visit my nameless brother within the next couple of days. I even got to see him before my mom did because she was so sick. We drove downtown to the hospital and scrubbed our skin raw for what seemed like forever until the nurse let us in. His eyes were bandaged and he was laying naked except for the diaper under a bright warm light. So many of his features were perfect and so many were so underdeveloped. He had the cutest little fingers and toes but his skin was so transparent I could literally see through it. They had a special cream that they put on him to help the growth of skin cells and all the monitors had to go through his umbilical cord so the tape wouldn't damage the little skin he had. I saw the breathing tube and I remember crying. I didn't know if he would make it and he didn't even have a name.
I also went to see my mom- this time with my younger brothers too. They were six and three and the time and I was the older big sister. I know that my neighbors were a great help and my step dad could handle things on his own for a few days but seeing my mom so delicate and weak really put into perspective that things were not normal and this was much different and we would all have to try our best to make things easier on mom. My brother's didn't really grasp this concept and I knew that my role as a big sister would be very important to get my mom back home safe and healthy.
A week or so after my brother was born he was no longer "Baby Boy Hansard" but was officially named: Hunter Rayce William Hansard. He had a hard battle ahead of him. We all did. His name was important as a definition of a fighter.
My brother, Hunter is 14 years old. I am twelve years his senior and I have two other brothers (three and six years older than Hunter) as well. I remember finding out my mom was pregnant and thinking, "Finally the opportunity for a sister!" and I remember my little league cheer leading coach getting mad at my mom for demonstrating a simple stunt just before sharing her special condition. I guess I always assumed it was my mom's three year itch to have another child- of course I credit myself for being the perfect child they wanted to clone and, by golly, they were going to keep trying till they got another me.
January 22nd I got off the bus and my mom's best friend, our neighbor was there to greet me. I don't remember all the specifics but I know I found out my mom went to the hospital, I know that eventually that evening I learned that my mom was delivering early and I know that the next day at school I milked the situation with my teachers of why my homework wasn't completed. There must have been some sort of awareness that things were terribly wrong- my mom wasn't suppose to deliver until late April- but I saw my mom as my rock and a person who would always be there no matter what. She seemed so strong and in control I never doubted the news I wold find out.
My mother was in the hospital and my new baby brother was flown to a different hospital. He was 1lbs 9 oz. at birth and my mother was really sick too. I can't remember what I was told or who told me but I knew that both my mother and brother were near death and needed all the prayers and thoughts they could get.
My step father took me to visit my nameless brother within the next couple of days. I even got to see him before my mom did because she was so sick. We drove downtown to the hospital and scrubbed our skin raw for what seemed like forever until the nurse let us in. His eyes were bandaged and he was laying naked except for the diaper under a bright warm light. So many of his features were perfect and so many were so underdeveloped. He had the cutest little fingers and toes but his skin was so transparent I could literally see through it. They had a special cream that they put on him to help the growth of skin cells and all the monitors had to go through his umbilical cord so the tape wouldn't damage the little skin he had. I saw the breathing tube and I remember crying. I didn't know if he would make it and he didn't even have a name.
I also went to see my mom- this time with my younger brothers too. They were six and three and the time and I was the older big sister. I know that my neighbors were a great help and my step dad could handle things on his own for a few days but seeing my mom so delicate and weak really put into perspective that things were not normal and this was much different and we would all have to try our best to make things easier on mom. My brother's didn't really grasp this concept and I knew that my role as a big sister would be very important to get my mom back home safe and healthy.
A week or so after my brother was born he was no longer "Baby Boy Hansard" but was officially named: Hunter Rayce William Hansard. He had a hard battle ahead of him. We all did. His name was important as a definition of a fighter.
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