Jordyn's Story

Dennis and I married on January 14, 2011 and we immediately put plans in motion to try to conceive. In July, we found out that we were going to have a baby. We were beyond excited! Every checkup revealed a strong heart beat and an active, growing little person. In October, we found out she was a girl! Although my pregnancy was extremely uncomfortable, due to sciatic, back, and hip pain, it was completely "normal" until the three weeks leading up to my due date, when I had elevated blood pressure. Jordyn Tyse-Dallas (“TD”) Sander was due on March 10, 2012.

Mommy & Jordyn, March 10, 2012

When Jordyn didn’t arrive on time, my obstetrician scheduled an induction for March 13 because she was on-call that day and night. We reached the hospital at 8:30 am. When the nurse checked my vital signs, she found that my blood pressure was still high. They hooked me up to an IV and did all the things they needed to do to “prep” me for the induction. It wasn’t until 3 pm that an intern ordered the nurse to start the Pitocin. After that, things moved along slowly. At 9 pm, another doctor broke my water (this was the most painful part of the whole laboring process!) By 10:30 pm, the contractions were very strong, so they gave me an epidural. From first stick to last, it took the anesthesiologist 28 minutes to get it positioned correctly...(I had a bruise at least 4 inches in diameter from this and still had a small mark for a year afterward.) So far, things were not going as magically as we had imagined.

The morning of the 14th at approximately 5:30 am, our delivery nurse noticed Jordyn’s heart rate was in the 160s and was a bit concerned, so she informed the on-call doctor (not mine…I never did see my doctor at all while I was in labor or delivery) about this. At 6 am, I woke up shaking violently from chills, throwing up, and running a high fever. They gave me a couple doses of Tylenol, but my fever continued. An hour later, our sweet girl’s heart rate was in the 180s.

That same doctor came in at 8:45 am to check my dilation, which he said was at 8.5 cm. I was tired and listless from the fever and asked if they could just take her. They didn’t hear me. He told the nurse to get me ready to start pushing, which I began at approximately 9:15am. During the duration of delivery, Jordyn’s heart rate fluctuated, sometimes dramatically. Dennis saw it go as high as 202 and as low as 62, but he wasn’t watching the monitor the whole time (obviously, he was a little busy with me.) At approximately 10:30 am the doctor came back in the room and took over. Until then, it was just a nurse, a nursing student, Dennis, and me. Again I asked if he would just take her, because I was so sick. He didn’t hear me that time either. At about 10:50 am, the doctor’s demeanor changed and Dennis heard him say, “We need to get this baby out NOW!” (We later found out that his sudden concern came about because her heart rate had decelerated and stayed low, instead of rebounding back up after the contraction.) Jordyn was born at 10:58am, weighing 7 pounds, 6 ounces, measuring 20.5 inches long, with gorgeous dark brown hair and bright blue eyes...and with no heartbeat. I had no idea this was the case. I just knew she needed to be checked for infection because of my fever, but Dennis saw her tiny, limp body in the doctor’s hands. He cut her umbilical cord as the NICU team rushed in to help her.

The NICU nurse practitioner intubated Jordyn and began resuscitation. I couldn’t see what was going on and no one was telling me anything. There seemed to be ten people bustling around the small delivery room and I had no clue what was going on. I stared at the clock the whole time, because I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t believe this. It was like being in an awful movie. I kept asking questions like "What is happening?" "Why is it taking so long?" "Why isn’t she crying?" The only answer I received was from the delivery doctor as he finished up with me, "Oh, they're just checking her to make sure she's okay." They resuscitated her for 18 minutes. At that point, the NICU doctor came over to my bed, laid his hand on Dennis’s shoulder, and told us they’d done all they could, but that our perfect little girl was dead. Dennis immediately began to cry. I sat there in disbelief. In the moment he turned back to the baby, someone said "we have a heartbeat." They quickly stabilized her, packed her head in ice, baptized her, showed her to me for a few seconds, and then whisked her away to the NICU with Dennis in tow.

I sat in a chair in the delivery room, shocked and completely drenched in sweat from my fever, with only a nursing student to “assist” me. After she tidied up my delivery room, she wheeled me to my regular room (which was on a different floor than the other joyous new mothers and their squirmy little newborns) to recuperate a bit as my fever broke, ultimately reaching 102.5°, while my blood pressure soared to 168/100. After an hour or so of being in and out of consciousness, I asked to be taken to the NICU to see my girl. When I got there, Dennis told me that someone had come down from L&D and told him that I didn’t want to see Jordyn. That I didn’t… want… to… see… my… beautiful… daughter. I still cannot comprehend how anyone could ever say that to a man who is watching his firstborn struggle for life, hooked up to machines and packed in a cooling blanket, while he is unable to help in any way except to pray like never before. The person might as well have said, “Your daughter is dying and your wife doesn’t care.” Needless to say, he was surprised to see me, and I was livid that he had to experience the feeling I didn’t want anything to do with Jordyn.

My anger melted as soon as I saw my little Bug lying in her bassinet, as though she was sleeping. She was beautiful. Despite the tubes, the blood from the numerous needle sticks, and the gunk in her hair from the EEG, she was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever laid eyes on. How did Dennis and I make such a perfect little baby? Only God could do work that good.

Love at first sight, March 14, 2012

For the first three days of her life, she was contained to the bassinet on a cooling blanket to keep her core temperature low enough to fend off any more damage to her brain. We were allowed to hold her hand, talk to her, sing to her, read to her and even help change her diapers, but we weren’t allowed to hold her. One of the silliest and best memories we have is when Dennis changed his first-ever diaper. He started to remove the wet diaper and he let out a shaky “Uhhhhhh!” I asked what was wrong and he squeamishly said, “Sheeeee’s stiiiiiiiiill pooooooooping.” The nurse and I had a good laugh, while poor Dennis stood there in shock, not knowing what to do next. Apparently, it looked like a soft-serve ice cream machine and chocolate was the flavor of the day.

On the 15th, Jordyn got her first bath from our awesome night nurse. When I came in during the wee hours of the morning, she sheepishly said, “I didn’t exactly mean to make that mohawk, but it sure is cute!” She wasn’t wrong.

Rocking the mohawk, March 15, 2012

Early in the morning on Sunday, March 18th, our nurse slowly heated her back up to 98.6° and asked if I was ready to hold her. “Are you kidding? Yes! Yes! Yes! Someone please go get Dennis!,” who was sleeping in our room down the hall from the NICU. It took three nurses to manipulate the tubes and place her in my arms. Once they did, I never, ever wanted to put her down again.

The first time we held Jordyn, March 18, 2012

We played a waiting game for the next several days and Jordyn underwent unending tests and procedures, including an MRI, several platelet transfusions, blood tests, X-rays, an ultrasound, another EEG, and others. We watched her “breathe around” her breathing tube, hopeful that would continue and she’d be able to have it removed. We came within hours of that being a reality, but her breathing labored again and the doctor thought it best to keep it in, lest they’d have to re-intubate. We didn’t want any procedures done that would cause her discomfort, unless they were necessary. As she was being pumped with fluids, she retained water and wasn’t urinating enough, so she ended up with a catheter. We loved it when she finally showed us that “enough’s enough,” and peed around it. That was removed and we had regular diapers to change again. 

When we first got to the NICU, it felt like we were visiting someone else's house. We didn't touch much. We lugged our "stuff" back and forth from our room to Jordyn's so we didn't clutter up her space. We kept our belongings as tidy as possible. We apologized for being in the way of the nurses and specialists. Then things started to change...someone started to decorate Jordyn's bulletin board. We asked people to bring in some more books and toys. We stocked her bookshelf with snacks. We made it as comfortable as possible. We started to live in the NICU...this was Jordyn's home.

During this time, we shared her with friends and family. My Mom and Dad flew in from Texas, my brother and his family drove nine hours from Green Bay, and Dennis’s immediate family visited almost every day. With such a large crew, the NICU staff graciously moved us to a larger room meant for twins, where we could be more comfortable while admiring our newest family member. While the whole gang was in town, our pastor dedicated Jordyn. It wasn’t how we had imagined the dedication. In fact, it seemed more like a funeral service than a baby dedication. One of my regrets is that we didn’t figure out a way to make it more joyful in this instance.

Friends came every day to see us and to meet Jordyn. Some with food in hand, some with flowers, toys, or cards, some with treats for our amazing nurses, and some with just their simple, genuine love and compassion for us and for our daughter. We will never forget those who touched us in some way during our time in the hospital.

On March 23^rd, we had a photo shoot with our little diva. We absolutely cherish the photos we received from this day. The pictures say more than I ever could…

After the second EEG on March 26^th came back with very little change, we realized we had reached a point where they were doing stuff to Jordyn and not for her. So, after we consulted with a transplant liaison late on the evening of March 27th (to learn how we could donate her heart valves), we decided it best if they took her off of the ventilator. We spent the night with her, knowing it would be our last.
 

Jordyn got to have her 2nd EEG all cuddled up on Daddy's chest, March 26, 2012.

Snuggling the night away with Mommy, March 27, 2012

The next morning on March 28^th at 11:15am, the NICU doctor who was with us in the delivery room removed the breathing tube. We were told that she could last a few minutes or it could be a few hours. We took her to another area in the NICU that didn't have any machines and was much homier with a couch, a rocker, music, etc. We cuddled her for eight more hours as she struggled for breath. At 7:04pm, she died in my arms as we rocked together. Dennis and I spent a little more time with her alone before we called for a doctor, who pronounced her dead at 7:28pm.

One of Daddy’s last cuddles, March 28, 2012

The NICU staff let us stay with her as long as we wanted before calling the transplant team to come and get her. We said "good bye for now" to her just before midnight.

I don’t remember much about leaving the NICU or the hospital, or much about the drive home, except that when we got to the parking garage, it hit me that Jordyn never got to breathe fresh air. Never got to have the sun on her face. She lived her entire life in a dimly-lit hospital room surrounded by beeping equipment and tubes. Then when we entered the car, I remembered I had the song “Cinderella” by Steven Curtis Chapman ready to play for Dennis on the CD player. It broke my heart all over again that he would never have the chance to dance or enjoy any of the special moments with his little girl like the song says. Instead, she was already "gone."

 "Cinderella" 
(Click link to view the official music video)

She spins and she sways to whatever song plays
Without a care in the world
And I'm sitting here wearing the weight of the world on my shoulders
It's been a long day and there's still work to do
She's pulling at me saying "Dad I need you!
There's a ball at the castle and I've been invited
and I need to practice my dancin'
Oh please, Daddy, please!"

[Chorus:]
So I will dance with Cinderella
While she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh I will dance with Cinderella
I don't want to miss even one song
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight
And she'll be gone

She says he's a nice guy and I'd be impressed
She wants to know if I approve of the dress
She says, "Dad, the prom is just one week away
And I need to practice my dancin'
Oh please, Daddy, please!"

[Chorus:]
So I will dance with Cinderella
While she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh I will dance with Cinderella
I don't want to miss even one song
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight
And she'll be gone

She will be gone

But she came home today with a ring on her hand
Just glowing and telling us all they had planned
She says, "Dad, the wedding's still six months away but I need to practice my dancin'
Oh please, Daddy, please!"

[Chorus:]
So I will dance with Cinderella
While she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh I will dance with Cinderella
I don't want to miss even one song
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight
And she'll be gone