My Other Nephew

You have all heard me talking about my nephews. I have 4 nephews. I've posted photos of them occasionally. You get to see Joshua every month. My sister doesn't send photos of her three sons as often as I'd like, so I don't post them as much. Yes, those are the most recent photos I have of them.

I have 4 nephews, Nate, Joshua, Andrew, and Paul.

What you may not know is, I really have 5 nephews. You see, my brother Russell and sister in law Yoke Wan had tried to start a family as soon as they got married, but they had trouble. Finally, I got the joyous phone call that they were expecting a baby. Joy turned to sorrow, when just a few weeks later, they had to call back and say they had lost it. Twice more, this scenario was repeated. Joy, then sorrow.

A fourth time, the joyous phone call. We all held our breath. When Yoke Wan reached her second month, then her third, we began to breathe again. But by the fifth month, we were holding our breath again. Yoke Wan had been showing symptoms of pre-eclampsia. Though the doctors were monitoring her carefully, even hospitalizing her for the remainder of her pregnancy, they finally decided that if the mother and baby were to have a chance to survive, they would have to do an emergency C-section. On May 15th, 2002, at 24 weeks gestation, Nathaniel Russell was born.

He was so tiny. He only weighed in at 1 lb 2 oz, and was shorter than a ruler. Eleven inches. He was born so early, his eyes weren't even open. And still, we held our breath.

Nathaniel was so tiny, and so early, that his chances were only about 50-50. But he lived through the night. Then another day. Then a week. We began to breathe again. His eyes opened. He lived another week. His digestive system finally began to function, and they were able to give him milk. He started to grow. He gained an ounce here, two ounces there. Each week, he gained a little weight. Each week, he grew stronger.

He had setbacks. He would need surgery to correct a retinal problem common in preemies. He was given the wrong IV, and his lung collapsed, but still he fought on. He grew some more. The doctors began weaning him off the life support machines. Finally, he was breathing totally on his own. His heart was beating strongly, and without help. The only tube he was still on was his feeding tube. When he gained up to 3 lbs, they were going to remove that, and let him take a bottle. As he began to get close, they gave him a pacifier to practice sucking. It took a while, but he eventually got the hang of it.

But then, tragedy. Nathaniel developed an infection in his bowel. He was rushed to another hospital across town, and emergency surgery was performed. They removed a section of his large intestine. He was put back on life support, but he was just too small. Too weak. His immune system was not strong enough to hold off the infection spreading throughout his tiny body. On August 3, 2002, the painful decision was made to let him go home. The machines were turned off.

And he was gone.

My sister in law had been sending me weekly e-mail updates and photos she'd taken of him. Not long after he left us, my computer crashed, and I lost every photo I had of him. It was almost like losing him all over again. Not long ago, I was looking for a cell phone charger and found this: The last photo I have of him in my possession.

It was one I'd printed out for Cody to put on his bulletin board. Somehow, it survived. It's faded. It's torn. It's splotchy. But it's all I have left of my nephew Nathaniel.