"Vivianna was the patient, but sometimes I think those nurses saved me, too. It was truly where my healing began."
"Our story begins just after Christmas in December 2022. My husband, Joe, and I were preparing for the February arrival of our first baby, Vivianna. At 33 weeks pregnant, I went to a routine checkup. I hadn’t been feeling well, but I assumed it was just a winter cold.
The appointment started normally, quickly shifted. The doctor revealed I had severe symptoms of preeclampsia and needed immediate hospital evaluation. Ignorant to the signs, I had no idea my high blood pressure, swelling, and sudden weight gain were medical emergencies. Because we thought it was a routine visit, this was the first appointment Joe hadn't attended with me. It was not how we planned it. The hospital bag wasn’t packed, the nursery wasn’t finished, and I hadn’t even had my baby shower yet. It was simply too early.
At the hospital, my blood pressure continued to climb, and I was admitted. The plan was to monitor me until 34 weeks, then induce. Much of those next few moments are a blur of shock. However, I distinctly remember the Maternal-Fetal Medicine (MFM) doctor who saw my distress. She held my hand, told me it was okay to cry, and shared that she had once been in my shoes with her own baby. Her honesty and gentleness assured me we were in good hands.
I was placed on a magnesium drip and continuously monitored. In the early hours of New Year’s Eve, I was induced. I’ll always smile remembering a staff member bringing us festive hats and beads to ring in the New Year. After 40 hours of labor with little progression, our beautiful girl was born via C-section on New Year’s Day, weighing 4 lbs 5 oz. With the NICU team ready in the OR, we snapped a quick picture before Joe followed her to the unit.
My memories immediately following surgery are fuzzy due to the anesthesia, magnesium, and sheer exhaustion. Sitting at my newborn's bedside six weeks before her due date felt entirely surreal. Soon after, I was moved back to the postpartum unit for another 24 hours on the magnesium drip. Confined to my bed, I was physically separated from Vivianna. I am so thankful for Joe and our family, who visited her, sent pictures, and video-called me.
The moment I was cleared to stand, I asked Joe to take me to the NICU. At the entrance, a kind security officer explained the protocols and offered words of hope, reminding me that he watched moms get stronger every single day.
It might sound strange, but the NICU quickly became my safe place. It was quiet. The gentle bubbling of Vivianna’s CPAP machine lulled me into calmness and the occasional unexpected nap. The nurses were incredibly encouraging. Vivianna was the patient, but sometimes I think those nurses saved me, too. It was truly where my healing began.
They taught us so much. We had taken standard newborn classes, but nothing prepares you for changing a diaper through the armholes of an isolette, or swaddling around a web of monitor wires. The nurses showed us that our tiny baby wasn't fragile. By NICU standards, they joked she wasn't even that "little." They called her a rockstar, helping me see her strength, and my own. We even met a nurse who was a NICU grad herself, giving us a beautiful glimpse into our own little warrior’s future.
Vivianna spent 10 days on the unit learning to breathe on her own without support, regulate her body temperature, and eat. She proved to be a fighter from the start. On her second-to-last day, Vivi took matters into her own hands, pulled out her feeding tube, and despite the nurses best efforts, refused to let the nurses put it back. She took full bottle feeds from that moment on and was discharged the next day.
Looking at Vivianna today, you would never guess her entrance into the world came with so much drama, or that she arrived six weeks early and spent her first 10 days in an isolette. I am so grateful to share our story. It may not be the journey we originally pictured, but it is beautiful, and it is in no small part thanks to the nurses, doctors, and staff who cared for us.” -Angela Furnari, Vivianna’s Mom
Learn more about the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Cooperman Barnabas Medical Center.