I knew something was wrong. She wasn't my first and I had breastfed before. She wasn't eating. She had projectile vomited and she was listless. I was covered in her vomit and by the lack of sensation in my breasts, I could tell that she wasn't getting any milk. She simply wasn't latching on. She just sort of rubbed her face and mouth on my breast with each attempt to feed.
I got her home and kept attempting to feed her as I was instructed to do, but she still wasn't eating. I tried to stay calm. On the outside, I was doing a pretty good job. But on the inside, I was dying and wanted to scream. My skin was crawling and I could feel myself mentally falling apart. I tried to arouse her by giving her a bath, but that didn't work either.
Then it happened. She began to breathe funny while my mom was holding her. I shouted at my mom to turn around so I could see her and noticed that her limbs were turning blue. I grabbed her and shouted to my mom to call 911. I held her in the air and began screaming her name. At that moment, her head fell back and towards her shoulder. Her arms and legs hung heavily toward the ground. I watched as a dusky, grayish-blue color moved from her arms and legs to her trunk and then face. My baby, whom I had only met 72 hours earlier, was lifeless in my hands. I watched the spirit she had leave her body.
I wasn't ready to let her leave me and I was not going to let her go. I placed her on the ground and put my cheek to her mouth. I felt no breath. I checked for a pulse and felt no pulse. I tilted her head back, blew two rescue breaths into my newborn's mouth, then started chest compressions. With each compression, I said the word "no" over and over again in my head. I lost count of my compressions. Was I on twenty or twenty-five? Then, as if an angel had walked into the room, I saw the tip of a pair of black boots standing before me. It was our fire rescue paramedics. Help had finally arrived.
I don't remember much in those few following moments. I've been told that I was calm and was able to give an accurate history. I do remember feeling overwhelmed with fear and concerned with my CPR skills. I remember questioning myself over and over again. Had I given proper rescue breaths? Were my chest compressions deep enough? Did I do enough for her? Was I able to help her? Did I minimize any potential damage? Was she going to live? I remember thinking back to my CPR classes almost a year prior.
I consider my child and myself lucky. I was a nurse and knew what to do. Although I may not have administered perfect CPR, I was able to initiate help immediately and have paramedics on the scene quickly. Some families aren't so lucky, as many hospitals do not make CPR classes mandatory prior to taking a newborn home.
During pregnancy, we are offered many different choice in prenatal classes. CPR isn't one of the more glamorous ones, but it it the most essential one. Had I not known what to do, the outcome could have been very different. Instead of sitting in front of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse every morning, I could be sitting in front of a grave site or an urn.
Since this experience, I've felt a responsibility to share our story. I hope this compels new and experienced parents alike to seek CPR training.
You can find infant/child CPR classes offered through the two organizations below.
3 Responses to “Infant CPR Saved Her Life”
Heart wrenching.
You have a beautiful family Lynda! My heart goes out to the beautiful Emma. She is Gods blessing in true sense. I have no words to express after reading all about the little soul and your pain as a mother. All I can wish for is the strength God must give you and your family. Hugs!
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