At 12 weeks, my first ultrasound, which should be an exciting start to my pregnancy journey, didn’t go as planned. During the middle of the exam, the tech left the room and got the doctor. Later, we discovered my son, Tyden, was not growing the way he should have been. Something was not right.
To be honest, the whole pregnancy was touch and go.
Tyden was born at 37 weeks at Children’s Hospital, facing complications from Hemolytic Disease of the Newborn (HDN), which is a very rare blood disorder that occurs when the blood types of a mother and baby are incompatible. As a result, he was anemic. This affected his growth and development, with swelling around his heart and his liver becoming enlarged.
From the moment he entered the world, he needed urgent care. He was immediately taken to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), where he spent his first days surrounded by machines that helped him breathe and monitors that watched over him.
Every day came something new, something wrong, then something right. It was like being in a vortex of the unknown. I have never been so scared as I was those first days. The greatest impact that his anemia had on him was his lung function (or lack thereof), when he was born and for several months afterwards.
It was six long days of watching him from afar, my arms aching to cradle and finally hold him as he fought for his life in a tangle of wires and tubes.
When the day finally came, and I could hold Tyden for the first time, I thought we were turning a corner. But as I cradled him, alarms began to sound, and nurses rushed in. My heart sank as they took him from my arms and returned him to the oxygen machine that was keeping him alive.
Unable to do the one thing every mother wants to do — hold and comfort her child. Those moments in the NICU will stay with me forever.
That first moment holding him was something I will never forget – I knew right then Tyden was a fighter!
My nurse, Nikita, encouraged me to go home to get some sleep —which I desperately needed. She held my arms, looked at me face to face, and said, “I got you — I am here with Tyden. Go home.” That gave me the strength to leave.
I barely made it to the car without crying or collapsing. I kept it together. And it all came out once in the car – I just sat there and bawled. The feeling of leaving your baby and not knowing that when you got back there in the morning, if he would still be alive. I can’t describe that feeling in words.
But I knew deep down inside that Nikita, this amazing nurse, was there fighting with him!
Being in the NICU night and day, I asked the staff at Children’s Hospital many questions, and I learned a lot. These questions gave me a much clearer understanding of how hospitals work and where all the life-saving equipment comes from.
It’s not from where you thought!
Did you know, nearly 100% of the equipment, like the Giraffe Omnibed Care Stations used in the NICU to protect the most critically ill prematurely born babies, and in fact in all other areas of the hospital — all day, every day — are there thanks to gifts from the community — donations from people like you and me? It changed my whole commitment to Children’s. They need all our support!
I can’t thank the donors enough for being so generous. Without that support, Tyden would not have had a chance to fight.
He was in the NICU as soon as he was delivered until November 30. He was back in hospital a few times in early December when he received many blood transfusions.
Then, we were told that we could bring Tyden home as a family and enjoy the holiday season that was upon us.
But it wasn’t long before his health took another turn, and we were back in the hospital from December 30 until January 10.
As you have probably gathered, these were some of the hardest weeks of our lives, and yet Tyden continued to show his strength that earned him the nickname “Hulk Baby.” The doctors and nurses were in awe of his resilience, and so were we.
This festive time of year is a special time for all of us no matter what we celebrate – there is something about the season that makes family important and that means a focus on health, happiness and joy!
Tyden, while pretty good today, is tall (maybe a little skinny) but strong, smiles all the time, plays, and keeps us all on our toes. He is still closely followed by a dedicated team at Children’s Hospital, and although his journey is ongoing, he has come so far. He loves singing, dancing, and building things with blocks. He surprises us daily with his boundless energy and joy for life.
For families like ours, Children’s Hospital is more than just a place of healing — hope lives at Children’s — it is a place of many different emotions and outcomes. We don’t know what is next for Tyden as he grows, but one thing we do know is that Children’s will have our back!
Without the specialized care and support of the hospital and people like you, I don’t know where we would be today. Simply put, your generosity saves lives.
The staff at Children’s — the nurses, doctors, and truly everyone you meet in any capacity — changes lives daily. We are forever grateful and feel blessed to live in an area of Ontario where Children’s is a few minutes away. How lucky we all are for this accessible “best-in-class” care.
As the mother of a child who has been fortunate enough to benefit from this “best-in-class” care, I now turn to you and ask you to give as much as you can to Children’s Health Foundation, so that this wonderful team of nurses and doctors can save other children. Sadly, so many other kids need this kind of nurturing and care.
If you choose to make a gift, you’ll be making even more of an impact than you know. Thanks to the Charabin Family Match of up to $50,000, a gift of $50 becomes $100, and a gift of $100 becomes $200. Think about how many lives would be changed as a result.
Wishing you and your loved ones a joyful holiday season and a New Year filled with hope and love.
With deep gratitude,
Shauna, Tyden’s Mom
and the Versloot Family
