Perseverance & Possibility
“There’s some sort of cardiac anomaly, but we don’t have to take him from you today,” said the doctor. Sitting across from him we quickly glanced at one another, seeing the same look of bewilderment in each other’s eyes, before turning our attention incredulously back to the doctor. Just one week away from our first child’s due date and we were, quite frankly, stunned by that whole sentence. Especially the last part, “… don’t have to take him from you … TODAY.” The previous week at my OB-GYN appointment the doctor heard an irregular heartbeat with the baby. “It’s probably nothing,” he said, “but let’s get an appointment to get him checked out with maternal-fetal medicine” so that’s why we were there. Turned out it t was a whole hell of a lot more than “probably nothing” than any of us had anticipated.
And from there we were off – reviewing congenital heart defects in my cousin’s medical books, searching on the internet, consulting family and friends, trying to prepare and get ready for what was to come. All to no avail. What previous life experience had prepped either of us to deliver a critically ill infant with multiple congenital conditions? Not to mention, be ready for what the future held for him. Nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing.
A week later on Saturday morning my water broke at home and we went straight to the hospital. Unbeknownst to any of us, Francisco was so ill and his heart so weak that the delivery was killing him. Imagine that? The process of bringing him into the world, what is meant to give and sustain life for him, was simultaneously robbing it from him. As the delivery progressed more medical personnel filled the room. Francisco finally entered the world, but made nary a sound. Someone in scrubs told me it was okay to look at my baby. I responded “how come he’s not crying?” I was waiting to hear him cry first before I looked at him. A nurse admonished me “this isn’t the movies, honey.”
Okay, maybe she’s got a point, I thought to myself. Movies are fiction and this is real life. However, I was keenly aware of the team of doctors and nurses huddled in the corner fervently working on my son. What should’ve been the beginning of the typical newborn assessment was instead an all-out assault to improve his vital signs. He had bruises all up and down his body. His heart failure was so severe and subsequently, his platelets so low, he was bleeding out internally.
No sooner had they temporarily stabilized him then they were whisking him out of the room. Francisco was swaddled, requisite striped newborn hat in position, and headed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Just before they exited I managed to yell out, “well, can I at least see him?” because, true to my word, I had not yet laid eyes on my baby. The nurse carrying my son quickly pivoted and turned toward me. I looked out over the hospital guard rails as the nurse shoved Francisco toward me. I remember seeing his eyes zoom in and out intently trying to focus. We locked eyes in that instant. I know he knew me. It was over in a flash and he was on to the NICU to save his life.
And this was just the beginning of his saga. Really, it’s just the beginning of his beginning because Francisco spent the next 7 months of his life, save one week at home at 2 months old, in intensive care. Most of that time was on a ventilator. Open heart surgery repaired two holes in his heart when he was a few months old, but there were so many complications, plot twists, and turns it’s too arduous to recount in any modicum of time.
We’ve since learned to put it all in proper perspective, but every part of that experience is permanently embedded in our brains. As harrowing as the ordeal was for all of us, most especially Francisco, it taught us that there was a good side of bad. And that the status quo, or what we called ‘not worse’, could be considered good. Although the cards were stacked against him numerous times, we managed to find a sweet spot to dwell in hope. Despite everything he endured, twenty years later Francisco is a testament to perseverance and what’s possible if you never ever give up.