"We don't see routine preemies," says Jane McGowan, the NICU's medical director. At any given time, from 30 to 40 babies are living in the unit, in heated isolettes at first, later in tiny cribs, each decorated with a colorful mobile - a felt duck, a bunny, a horse, all swinging from a bright canopy. Two-thirds of the babies, like Destiny, are preemies; the others are full-term but born with serious anomalies that make them candidates for the most skilled and specialized medical wizardry.
Twenty years ago, many of these babies would not have survived. Today, advances, including the meticulous team care they receive in NICU units like this one, give them a more hopeful prognosis. Most of the infants will leave eventually, says McGowan, although the quality of their lives often remains unknown. They will remain at high risk for a medley of complications - including cerebral palsy, mental retardation, growth deficiencies, vision and hearing problems, fragile lungs, and school difficulties. Some, despite the most heroic efforts, won't make it. "You never get used to it," McGowan says. "When a baby dies, I still cry."
"In my 25th week of pregnancy, I stopped feeling her move," says Dent, Destiny's mom, who was being treated for preeclampsia, a leading cause of premature birth and fetal complications. The condition is characterized by the mother's dangerously high blood pressure and protein in her urine. "I was so scared and nervous and numb," Dent says. "I didn't know what to feel." A few hours later, her baby was delivered through a cesarean section. "My husband, Aaron, and I were both traumatized," Yolanda remembers. "All I had dreamed about was having a healthy baby. I cried for days."
