Signature Chefs Feeding Motherhood DC

In February of 2019, when I was 23 weeks and 6 days pregnant, my water broke. We went straight to the hospital and were told that a baby is not considered viable until 24 weeks, and that I was being transferred by ambulance to another hospital about 30 minutes away where they would evaluate the situation further. As I was loaded into the ambulance, Rob squeezed my hand and told me to just hold on until midnight, just make it to 24 weeks. Once at the new hospital I was told that while my water did break, the baby looked good and they were going to try and keep me pregnant until 34 weeks - 10 weeks away. My mind immediately went to my then three year old, and not quite one year old at home. 10 weeks away from my sweet girls and my rock of a husband. But it was for our baby and I was determined to keep her safe. 

10 days into my stay at the hospital I woke up and had a CBC draw to check for infection, had my diabetes test and was heading down for an ultrasound to check on both my fluid-level and the baby. My fluid that was an 8 when I was brought in 10 days prior, was now down to a 2. My heart sank. I was brought back to my room and asked my nurse about the CBC draw and the diabetes test. Without turning to look at me, she said "You passed your diabetes test". I had asked about two tests, but was only given the results to one. In that moment I knew what was happening. I quietly grabbed my phone, and texted Rob to drop the girls off at my parents and that I would be delivering that day. "Did they tell you that?" he asked, "I just know" I replied. By the time he arrived, I was in the arms of my nurse, sobbing, as the doctor explained that I had developed an infection and they were going to send me down to Labor and Delivery. 

That night, Emerson Louise Zellner was born at just 25 weeks and 2 days gestation, weighing 1 lb 13 oz. I remember seeing a crowd of NICU doctors and nurses surround her as I waited for any sign that things would be OK. Then I heard someone shout "baby's breathing". It was that moment that I knew I had a fighter. And boy did she fight. Day-in and day-out I was by her side at the NICU as she underwent echo cardiograms to monitor her PDA, a small opening in her heart, invasive eye exams to check for ROP a condition common in micro-preemies that can lead to permanent blindness, and watched her struggle to breathe as she moved from CPAP bubble, to SiPap, back to CPAP, eventually to nasal cannula and then finally room air. I didn't give up as she learned to feed, turning blue as she choked and the bradycardia alarm sounded and the light above our door flashed red. 

After 112 days of walking out of the hospital and leaving my baby behind as I went home something incredible happened - our sweet Emmey Lou was discharged. 4 months to the day that I was admitted into that very same hospital. For the first time in months, I could kiss my sweet baby goodnight at the end of the day. Emmey is now a happy, healthy and incredibly sassy three year old. We often say that Emmey is fearless to a fault, as she runs, climbs and seemingly goes about without a care in the world. Emmey lives her life as if she can overcome the impossible, because she already has. 

While there are no words to describe the joy we felt in having Emmey home in those first few months, there are also no words to describe the fear. When she choked on her 5 ml's of milk, there was no alarm that would sound, no team that would come running. There were no machines in her room to help her breathe should her oxygen levels drop. That is when I really connected with the March of Dimes community. Other moms, parents and families who had experienced similar traumas, who had the same fears, the same worries as we did and some who were on the other side. 

The support and love that the March of Dimes provides on a daily basis as they fight for healthy moms and strong babies is like nothing we have ever experienced. We are honored to be a part of that fight.