The background post...


Brandt Tyler Jossi was born at 4:04 a.m. on January 14th, 7# 9oz, and 20” long, at 37 weeks. It was as “easy” and quick (aside from the full week of false labor) delivery as I could have hoped for, and he was just perfect. He latched on like a champ, and nursed for a full 45 minutes before taking his first nap in the outside world…while we did the same. Early mornings aren’t a whole lot of fun.

Smitten daddies are adorable.
Right before we left, Elaine, my midwife, decided to try the pulse oximeter test a second time, because the reading was a little off the first time around, and although he looked perfectly healthy, she figured she should get an accurate read for the records. This was a test that wasn’t required when Wade was born, so she explained that it was for reading the blood/oxygen percentages…something that used to be bypassed simply by glancing over the baby. If he was a good color (he was) with no blue around his lips (he had none), and nice and active/responsive (definitely was), then one generally didn’t worry about it. However, the numbers kept coming back just a little under what they needed to be to “pass”. After a couple calls around to pediatricians in the area, Elaine finally suggested we run up to the hospital to get it checked out and just be on the safe side.

We were pretty loathe to ruin our perfect little morning, but it was worth the peace of mind, so we soon found ourselves standing next to a tiny little bed while they hooked up their own pulse oximeter to this itty bitty little boy. Half an hour later, we found ourselves admitted, standing next to a baby covered in tubes and wires from head to toe. His low oxygen wasn’t just a fluke, apparently, and was a lot more concerning to the doctors at the hospital than it had been to us previously. Soon, they began running their concerns past us. More than likely, it was caused by a bacterial infection (I was group-B strep negative, but maybe there was something else?), or by some issue with the lungs or heart, the severity of which would be determined via blood tests, chest x-rays, echocardiograms, and a culture to test for bacterial infections.

Not the biggest fan of the flash, or of having
the towel pulled away from his face
for the picture!
To go from having a seemingly healthy baby and telling Mom, who was watching Wade, that we’d be home in a couple hours, to suddenly trying to figure out who was going to be staying at the hospital for the next two days, all within the matter of an hour or two was enough to leave us reeling. Newly minted mom hormones and Leaky Faucet syndrome didn’t help at all. To try to clear our heads, we decided to go meet Mom and Wade for lunch, but as we headed out, we were chased down the hall by one of the ladies that had been working on our case (wait, we have a case?!). One of the doctors had some new news that he needed to run by us before we left.
As it turned out, during rounds, a doctor had picked up a heart murmur that hadn’t been there before, which essentially narrowed our three options down to one...his heart. We were still attempting to wrap our heads around that as he started throwing out big words that could now possibly be the culprit, but one phrase that stood out was “possible congenital heart defect”. Still in denial (and, quite honestly, not super trusting of hospitals in the first place), we figured that these were all just worst case scenarios, and went on our merry way, knowing that they would be doing the echo while we were gone. Results would be in when we got back.
We were ushered into the parents’ lounge when we got back, and met with Dr. Ruggerie (that’s “ru-jerry”, he explained to us). It was in that little room that we were finally hit with the fact that our son really didn’t just have a cute little infection that could be treated with antibiotics. For him, the worst case scenario was the real life scenario, too. Did you know that having one’s heart sink can actually be a physical feeling?
Not my favorite way to see him, but I suppose
I'll have to get used to it! Pretty cute,
regardless, no?
This wonderful doctor spent the better part of an hour describing to us what was wrong (more on that in another post), and we ended our conversation when we looked at the clock and realized that the plane that would be taking him to Seattle for his surgery would be there in roughly an hour and a half. Brandt wasn’t even twelve hours old at that point.
Originally, we had decided that I would go with. There wasn’t even a question that it would be me going, so Tanner ran home to get my clothes while I stayed to pump (he was being fed by IV to prevent any risk of aspirating his food and getting pneumonia, just in case it was a lung issue) and get things sorted out before we left. Twenty minutes later, we were given the news that I couldn’t go, as they don’t take mothers that are less than twenty-four hours post-partum. (Wait, I’m not 24 hours postpartum? Oh, maybe that’s why I can’t stand very long without getting dizzy…) That stunk, but was understandable. That meant I’d have to find my own way out there, and someone still had to go with Brandt. So what if Mom went with Brandt, so Tanner and I could drive out together? No, that wouldn’t work, because she didn’t have the power to give medical permission. So Tanner would go, then. He packed up his things and got back to the hospital about half an hour before the flight crew showed up.
Not really appreciating his first bath.
As they were packing Brandt into his massive incubator, we discussed it some more, and decided that it made more sense for Tanner to stay home with me. As gut wrenching as it was to let Brandt be taken off without either of us along, it would allow us to drive out together the next day. Tanner would then fly back home after the surgery, leaving me with a car while I stayed the remaining four weeks of recovery. Wade, we finally decided, would get to spend some time with Tanner’s family, about four hours away in Oregon. His brother had called us and offered to take care of him for as long as we needed, and with that suggestion, everything just seemed to click into place. With all the family in the area (even Grandma and Papa!), we knew he’d be well taken care of, and close enough that I could go down to see him every now and again.
So they bundled up our cargo, with tubes and wires running every which direction, and hauled him off to Seattle, with a promise to call us as soon as they got him settled in. They did call at nine to tell us that it had all gone off without a hitch. He’d had no issues at all on the flight over, and was doing well with his new doctors and nurses. Another call came in from his new doctor at one in the morning (very apologetic for the late hour, but he wanted to make sure he got to talk to us that night) to update us on Brandt’s status…he had settled in well, and was totally off oxygen…a new development, as he was on 100% oxygen the whole time he was at Benefis in Great Falls. (More on that later as well.)
That leaves us where we’re at today. As I write, we’re driving through Coeur d’Alene, with the car loaded to the gills for this next little adventure.
For those who have been asking how we’re doing, the answer is that we’ve definitely been better, but we could be doing much worse. We realize that this is a rough road we’re starting on, and, as things never go quite as predicted, there could very likely be more twists and turns in the days and years ahead. However, we’ve come to realize that God very likely plans to use this experience to do some molding in our lives, and that’s something to be welcomed, even if it isn’t exactly comfortable while it’s happening. Thankfully, He also has this pretty cool tendency to give us strength when we have none.
Cutie little snuggle butt...
We’ve been overwhelmed with all the help and support we’ve been offered over the last two days. I don’t think we can totally express what it means each time we get a text from someone offering what they can give. We’ve even had people ask if our dog is taken care of! (Yes, she is...we’ve got a fantastic dog boarding kennel in town that didn’t even blink when I asked if I could leave her for an undetermined amount of time, and she loves being there, so it’s a win-win!) Maybe part of what we’ll learn in the next while is the ability to see the needs of others so we can be as helpful as you all have been.

Anyway, thanks for reading through all of that…I’ve got a list of other posts to write out, and I’ll keep you all as updated as possible. The surgery won’t be scheduled until we have a better idea of what’s going on with his heart…it isn’t something that just has a name, but it’s very generically described by a list of hard to spell words about half a page long. Depending on tomorrow’s busyness, I’ll try to get a post done on just what is needing fixed, in layman’s terms. 

Comments

  1. I cannot imagine!! Thank you for taking the time to share all this. Love, Julie

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  2. ach moment, but I am SO glad Brandt will be at Children's - he will have such incredible care there. I'm staying with the boys most days, so I'm only a mile away. If you ever need anything or have questions about pumping or something I can be over in a few minutes.
    Julia (the deleted comment was me too - blerg)

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  3. Thank you, Kara, for explaining all of this. You will all be in our prayers. I love your dependence on God for strength to face this traumatic time. Keep a positive attitude, we're rooting for you. Cindy J

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  4. I will be thinking of you guys.

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  5. Kara & Tanner, Bless you as you go through this with your beautiful Brandt. Having Jesus with you is a huge plus. I will be praying for a good outcome with whatever surgery is required, the skill & wisdom of his surgeons, and all the strength & peace you need as this all unfolds. God bless you.

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