Meriah Lynn Spackman

Friday, November 1, 2006- the day my heart grew to an indescribable size, the day I experienced a love like no other, and the day Meriah was born! Meriah was a healthy, full-term, perfect little girl who lit up my whole world. I still remember looking at her, holding her for the first time and wondering how out of all the mothers in this world, I was lucky enough to be hers! I was soaking up every second while also thinking of everything the future would hold. I never imagined a day without her. We had just 114 happy days together, days without sickness, hospitals, nurses, doctors, tubes, and procedures. Those 114 days were filled with so much love, happiness, smiles, and pure joy.

Friday, February 2, 2007- The day my world started to collapse. Meriah began to show cold symptoms, but something didn’t “feel right.” I took her to the hospital Friday evening after being unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. She had a fever, was congested and just wasn’t feeling well. We were sent home and told to bring her back if symptoms worsened. Saturday, she seemed slightly better, I think just from rotating Tylenol and ibuprofen Friday night through Saturday. Fast forward to Sunday morning, February 4th. Meriah was lethargic, visibly not well, and her breathing was labored. We rushed her to Riley Hospital, where they immediately put us in a room. Her oxygen read just 76%. I will never forget the nurse's face or the team that swarmed my little 12lb baby in the seconds following this reading. In the emergency room, they worked to stabilize her and bring her oxygen up. They removed fluid from her lungs, started ordering tests to determine what was happening, and intubated her. From here, we were moved to the PICU, a short trip that seemed like miles as I walked with nurses who were squeezing a bag that was forcing oxygen into my infant’s lungs. How was this happening? We finally got to her room, she was placed on the ventilator, and we were told Meriah had Influenza A, both of her lungs were filled with fluid, and her prognosis was not good.

I can't even begin to list the highs and lows that consumed the next 19 days. But I will try to sum it up as much as possible. I was told daily to “prepare for the worst; she has a single-digit chance of survival.” I signed more papers than I can count, allowing them to medically sedate, paralyze her, insert what ended up being a total of 3 chest tubes, and switch from every ventilator known to man until finally, we put her on ECMO (a heart-lung bypass machine). From being bagged and on the ventilator, Meriah developed a pneumothorax (a hole in her lung). The oxygen they were putting into her body was leaking out, causing her lung to collapse. After trying and having no success with any of the breathing machines, the doctors came to me and said ECMO was her last chance at survival. The hope was this would allow her lungs to “rest” and heal. She was on ECMO for eight days before they decided to go in through one of her chest tubes and apply surgical glue…her body wouldn’t heal on its own. This was February 22, 2007. The first day anyone ever provided “hope” or said we should be optimistic. I remember one of her doctors saying to me, “you’re right; you’ve got a fighter on your hands. It's going to be a very long road, but we will start weening her off life support tomorrow.” I was overwhelmed with happiness and relief. 18 days of doctors, and nurses telling me to prepare for the worst, 18 days of begging God, trying to bargain with him even, praying with the chaplain, literally having holy water brought in, sitting in that hospital 24 hours a day, fighting for her at every round they had, researching everything they said, learning every machine, every beep, resting my face against hers, begging her to keep fighting… she was finally going to start getting better, I remember asking when I would be able to hold her. I hadn’t been able to hold her since taking her to the hospital… I went to my room at the Ronald McDonald house in the early morning hours of February 23rd. I had made the calls, so excited to have hopeful news to share, and went to bed looking forward to starting the weaning process and taking a step in the right direction. I got a few hours of sleep before Shelly called. Shelly was one of Meriah’s primary nurses. I asked if Meriah was okay, and she replied, “yes,” and just told me to get to Meriah’s room. I remember thinking, “I finally get to sign paperwork that’s not terrifying.” I assumed I had to sign paperwork for them to start removing her from life support.

I entered her room and looked at her monitor that, showed her stats as I always did. Her oxygen level read well over 100%. This was when Meriah’s team stood in tears, explaining that they believed she had a massive stroke and needed to take her downstairs to confirm. That her oxygen was so high because her brain could no longer tell her organs how to use the oxygen…it was all in her bloodstream, and she was in total organ failure. The CT confirmed their assumptions, and I was told we could keep her on life-support until the family got there, but we didn’t have more than a day left with her. I gave her a sponge bath, put a bow in her hair, dressed her, and waited for a rocking chair to be brought in so I could finally hold my sweet baby. I rocked her for 15 minutes before she left this cruel world.

February 24, 2007- I knew immediately that I wanted to do something that would allow Meriah’s memory to live on; I needed to feel like I could still do something for her! We created the Meriah Angel Donor Advised Fund. We raised just under $30,000 and donated this to Riley Hospitals ECMO department. This money replaced all the tubes on their 6 ECMO machines. (at the time, Riley was one of the 100 hospitals in the world that could perform this procedure, and Meriah was only the 582 baby to be on ECMO since the department started in the 80s). The fund has since closed, but it is something I plan on starting again in the future.

Helping others in her memory is the closest thing I have left to doing something for her. People hearing her name, seeing her photos, and hearing her story helps. This year Meriah would be 16 years old. These “monumental” birthdays are always a little harder. I think of everything we would be doing, and the “what-ifs” are running wild. I decided I would like to send two kids to Drivers-Ed in memory of Meriah. I have found two awesome and much-deserving kids to gift this to. Please help in whatever way you feel led, sharing, praying, or donating; I welcome it all. Thank you for taking the time to learn a little about Meriah and our story; it really does keep her memory alive. I will update once we hit our goal and let the kids know! Any money exceeding our goal will be put into an account with the Drivers-Ed company and go towards other kids enrolling in their program.

Lastly, I want to challenge everyone to do something random and kind on November 1st. We get so caught up in this crazy, fast-moving world. Slow down, take time to help someone, pay it forward, hug your kids a little longer, and watch the movie you’ve seen with them 1000 times already but that they love! Be thankful, especially in the moments that seem overwhelming or aggravating. Let Meriah remind you to never stop appreciating life, the highs, the lows and most importantly, the people you love.