2 Weeks of Miracles

Today I wanted to record some of the miracles I have witnessed over the past two weeks since the birth of our son Ethan Michael Chamberlain. Ethan was born on July 2nd at 9:30 P.M. at Emanual Hospital in Portland, Oregon. He weighed in at 8 lb 11 oz and was 20 in long and made mom work a solid three hours of pushing to get him out, he was a big boy and didn't want to leave his comfy home in mommy's tummy. As a male, I can't really speak as to the pain and effort needed to bring a child into this world, but I have gained a much greater appreciation to the mother's who endure the hardships of the birthing process. I still remember the shock I felt when I first saw that head full of hair and and realized that my son was finally here, I don't think I was quite ready. All of the sudden here he was, my precious little boy and instantly I remember all of the emotions in the room changed. No longer was there a feeling of weariness on everyone's faces but instead there was a look of excitement and awe from every nurse, doctor and parent. When he finally was cleaned up and returned to be held by mom it was amazing to see the look of joy on Amanda's face. Who would have thought that nine long months of pregnancy, with all of its joys, and over 13 hours of painful labor could be instantly forgotten and replaced by pure love.

Sadly joy was not to be the only emotion to be felt in the coming days and Ethan waited in the NICU to determine the extent of the heart surgery that was needed. We were prepared for a full redirect and rewiring of his heart to overcome the nearly non-existent left half of his heart that we had seen, or not seen, a few weeks before. Amazingly after being examined a few days after birth, the doctors told us that Ethan's heart was much more developed than originally thought which meant that a different surgery could be performed that would be able to make use of his whole heart and give Ethan the chance to have a fully function heart if all went well. This was such great new to us since it meant that the surgery would be much less invasive and could produce better long term results for our son. Hope for a full life with only a few limitations was all of the sudden in reach for our precious son, something we had given up on a month before.

High hopes often lead to heartbreak, which is something we experienced in a great degree that first Monday night. Ethan entered the surgery room early Monday morning (7am) for what hopefully would be a 4-6 hour surgery, but after complication we were given some terrible news around 6pm that evening. The doctor found us in the waiting room and informed us that there had been some bad bleeding and some scary moments requiring resuscitation and Ethan being placed on a heart bypass machine to finish the last part of the surgery. The surgery was done but Ethan was nowhere near finished and was in critical condition. We were told he needed to be placed on a long term heart and lung bypass machine (ECMO) in order to live and that there were no viable alternatives, things didn't look good for our son since many patients who are put on this machine are never able to come off. After many tears and many prayers we accepted the situation and hoped for the best. Somehow shortly after that moment Ethan stabilized enough that the doctors were able to consider another option and did their best to avoid using the long term bypass machine. Despite terrible odds, hope was once again offered to us that Ethan might live.

We thought that things couldn't get worse after that 6 o'clock meeting but somehow they did. Ethan had rallied and given the doctors hope that things would work out, but after seven more hours of surgery they were beginning to give up on him. The surgeon who came up to us tried to explain that after every attempt to stop the bleeding and regulate his blood pressure he would slip further and further way. Each attempt to help him gave less and less results, Essentially we were presented three different options, but underneath each was the assumption that Ethan wouldn't make it. We went with the best option we could, the only one that had a glimmer of hope and bid the surgeon fairwell. Words cannot describe the feelings of despair in that room that night. Calls were made and tears were shed as we tried to cope with that terrible news. A while later the nurse began asking us if we wanted to get hand and foot castings or prints to remember him by. Eventually permission was granted to bestow a blessing on Ethan inside the surgery room. By this point all hope had been lost and as I walked into the OR room I could see that same dejected look on most everyone's face, they still worked but no one believed he would make it anymore. I made my way to the back of the room, avoiding looking at his chest so that I could maintain a perfect picture of my son to remember him by, and sat down in the chair near Ethan's head. I gave him a blessing. I knew in my heart that there was nothing left I could do and I both begged for a miracle but voiced our acceptance of Ethan's immanent departure from this world. I felt at peace knowing we had done all we could and trusted in the Lord's will and hand in the matter. We sat in the room for another 45 minutes waiting for them to give us the official news and to bring Ethan up for goodbyes and then suddenly we told to vacate the room. The nurse told us that Ethan was coming up and that somehow he had stabilized and we needed to make room for the doctors to set everything up in Ethan's new room. We were stunned and quickly grabbed what we needed and we still didn't get out before the doctors began pouring in the room. We couldn't believe what we were seeing or understand how it was possible, we were told there was no way he would make it and yet here he was right before our eyes. If this wasn't a miracle I don't know what is. One of the surgeons came out to tell us how Ethan had rallied shortly after receiving his blessing to the amazement of the whole hospital staff. As the surgeon said, "I think he is trying to tell us something", Ethan wanted to live.

Here we are two weeks later and Ethan is still with us. We have watched as slowly but surely each of his vital organs are beginning to function again. After heart surgery most organs take a heavy blow and many stop working for extended periods of time. His kidneys went from being non functional, requiring dialysis during the downtime, to working just fine. His motor functions are beginning to return, though we still have him on enough sedation that movement is minimal for the time being. There have been a multitude of additional complications and setbacks keeping us from going home but each one is being overcome, even if some of them are taking longer than others. We are truly grateful for the progress that is being made and that someday we will be able to take baby Ethan home with us. We are grateful that he is still alive and with us today. We believe he is a miracle in every sense of the word, from the miracle of new life to the miracle of his surgery and recovery, his life is a miracle.