On July 9, 2006, we got in our car to drive to Magee-Women’s Hospital in Oakland.  At 8:00 PM, we registered Amy to be induced for labor.  And at 4:21 AM on July 10, our beautiful baby boy, Evan William Campbell, was born into this world.

On July 9, 2007, we knew we had become very different people.  Around 8 PM, we looked at each other and recalled that this was the time everything had really started 1 year ago.  We were just a few hours away from celebrating the anniversary of Evan’s birth, and we had no idea what to expect.

We had been trying to prepare for this day for a few weeks, coming up with ideas to celebrate his life while giving back to people we care about.  We did not simply want to mope around all day, sulking in the fact that our son is no longer physically with us.  We needed to do something more than that.  We needed to celebrate too.  So a few weeks ago, we decided to make care packages for families in the CICU on Evan’s birthday.  Shopping for what to include in them was one of the few things that has really made us happy over the last 5 months.  We remember what it’s like to live in a hospital, and we wanted to try to make these families’ days a little brighter.  We were originally going to bring cupcakes until we saw a heart-shaped cake pan while looking for things at Michael’s.  So we decided to make heart-shaped birthday cakes for our neighbors and the CICU.  All told, we baked and decorated 4 cakes, 5 including the one we’ll be taking to the cabin this weekend.  We wanted to send Evan a present as well, so we bought 2 heart-shaped balloons.  We tied one of them to our front porch railing, and we decided to get up at 4:21 AM on July 10 to release the other to heaven.  Our original idea was to send up a birthday card and picture with the balloon, but it turns out that while helium is lighter than air, helium + paper is not.  So we ended up writing our messages directly onto the balloon, addressed to our Angel Evan in heaven, and we taped our family picture to it.

At midnight on July 10, we said Happy Birthday to Evan and tried to get some sleep.  Of course, we were very groggy at 4 AM when our alarm went off.  But we mustered up enough energy to get outside to release the balloon and sing Happy Birthday.  We watched it soar into the night sky for as long as we could see it, and as it disappeared, we knew it must have crossed the border between Earth and Heaven!  We sure hope he was excited to get some REAL MAIL!!!

After releasing the balloon, we tried to get a little more sleep before getting up to go to Children’s Hospital at 7:00.  Amy was a complete nervous wreck, not knowing how the day would go, and Greg got very little sleep, constantly thinking about the big day ahead.  At 8:30, Grandma & Grandpa Campbell and Uncle Christopher arrived at our house to make the trip with us.  Gramps, Jody, and Uncle Scott would be meeting us at the hospital.  The drive down was pretty uneventful, but our nerves started to pick up as we neared Oakland.  Just looking up at the Cathedral of Learning as we started up Forbes Avenue brought back a rush of memories.  Then there is the left turn onto McKee Place (turning into Darragh Street), crossing Fifth Avenue to the Victoria Street garage, where we parked so many times during those 102 days in Oakland.  Today, the garage would be full.  Wouldn’t you know it, the attendant put the cone out and blocked our way just before we got there.  We rolled down the window to explain what we were doing there, and he directed us elsewhere.  Irritated at first, we came to realize that this would be the first of so many blessings God was about to bestow upon us.

The Victoria Street garage requires you to take a bit of a walk over to Children’s Hospital.  Considering that we had quite a bit of stuff with us, it would have been difficult.  But we went into it thinking it was our best option because the main garage is always full on weekdays.  So we drove around the block, thinking for certain that we’d have to park half a mile away and lug everything to the hospital.  But we decided to try the main entrance first.  We got in line (there’s ALWAYS a line backed up Fifth Avenue), and waited as the parking attendant neared our car.  We explained to him what we were there for, and he immediately directed us into a short line of cars waiting for valet parking.  So we pulled up into the line and waited for about 5 minutes.  With our stomachs in knots and anxious to get into the building, we asked Uncle Christopher if he’d watch the car while we started to take things in.  And so we and Grandma started to haul everything we could hold into the main lobby.  Gramps, Jody, and Uncle Scott had just arrived and were already waiting.  The second we walked into the hospital, Amy said, “Well, it still smells like Children’s Hospital.”  For those of you who haven’t spent a lot of time in hospitals, you may not understand this, but we have become so familiar with that smell.  We could be blindfolded and driven into that place and immediately know where we were, with no hesitation at all.  Uncle Christopher and Grandpa were parked very shortly after we got in.  They brought the remaining items, and we were ready to go!

We still felt like pros in the hospital, opting to take the silver elevators rather than the purple ones because they’re larger and less likely to be crowded.  Another interesting fact is that on the 1^st and 6^th floors only, the DeSoto wing of the hospital (where the silver elevators are) is at the same level as the main hospital.  There are no steps or ramps to get you over.  Not important, but something we just know!  When we arrived on the 6^th floor, we again noted the unique smell.  The 6^th floor had a distinct smell from the rest of hospital, possibly because it’s the surgery and ICU floor.  Who knows?  At any rate, it immediately reminded us of Evan and all of our time there. 

We headed first for the NICU waiting room, the whole time feeling Evan’s presence with us.  So many days, our families would spend time in that room.  We could visit Evan in the CICU only 2 at a time, so that was the place to be if you were waiting.  Grandpa even commented at one point about how “the TV still doesn’t work” because it was always fuzzy on certain channels (when the cooler in the pop machines kicked on).  We had been desperately hoping that the room would be empty when we got there so we could inconspicuously lay out the food.  God was there for us again, as there was just one man in the waiting room at the time.  As he watched us setting up shop, he mentioned to us that he had a daughter in the NICU who had been born at only 1 pound.  After a difficult stay at West Penn Hospital, she was transferred to Children’s.  He told us that she was now 5 pounds, free from infection, and ready to be discharged the next day (July 11).  He was very thankful to God for being at Children’s Hospital, that they had sorted everything out so that she could go home with her family.  We were very happy to have met him and heard his story.  It’s yet another of those things we miss, the sharing with other families about our children.  There’s a sense of camaraderie between all of us who have struggled to cope with the medical problems our children have.

Finally, we had everything set up, and we started on to the CICU.  As we headed down the hall, we took a few deep breaths.  A few things ran through our minds.  Who would be working today?  Would we know anyone?  Would we lose it when we saw the unit?  Would they be too busy to talk to us?  Would they even want to talk to us?  As we turned the corner, the first thing we saw was a bright yellow shirt, and we knew…it was ROSE!!!  Rose was one of the morning receptionists, and after spending so many days chatting with us in the unit, she braved the elements to come to Evan’s viewings on Valentine’s Day (coincidentally, also CHD Awareness Day).  It was so wonderful to see her!  She ran out from behind the glass and gave us the biggest tear-filled hugs.

We stood outside and chatted for a few minutes, and as we peered inside the unit, we saw another familiar, well, back of the head.  Dr. Orr was standing at the entrance to Bed 4!  Rose invited us in for a few minutes, something we were not expecting at all, since the ICU stays very sterile, and there were 8 of us!  Obviously, we didn’t even walk past the sink where you wash your hands, but we were right there outside of Bed 2, the place where we “lived” for the vast majority of those 102 days.  When we walked in, Dr. Orr turned around at the sound of the door and did a double take.  A combination of a big smile and a look of bewilderment came onto his face.  He walked over to us, and Greg put out his hand.  He knew, however, that this was not going to be a handshake even as he reached out.  Dr. Orr gave each of us the biggest hugs and told us how happy he was to see us.  He asked what brought us in today, and we explained that we were celebrating Evan’s birthday by visiting them and dropping off care packages for the CICU families.  He was the attending physician for many of Evan’s days in the hospital, and we spent many hours chatting about all sorts of things…Evan’s condition, his own daughter lost to Trisomy 13 at 6 months old, his 11-year-old son who has excelled despite being diagnosed with severe brain atrophy early in life, Greg’s biology classes (and test-grading), and just life in general.  He became such an approachable person during our time in the hospital, and he along with several others helped us lose our fear of talking to doctors.  Right behind Dr. Orr was Dana, one of Evan’s favoritest nurses!  Dana was Evan’s nurse many times over the summer, including the day of his 1^st heart surgery July 31.  She had him only 1 time in Evan’s last hospitalization, but it again was heart surgery day.  Of course, she would pop in constantly (usually as the charge nurse) when she was working to check on Evan and us.  She is an extremely personable human being and a very skilled nurse.  It was truly a blessing to see her yesterday.  We were then surrounded by other people we knew.  We almost don’t know where they came from.  It was as if one moment we walked into the CICU, and the next moment 6 smiling faces were all around us!  Amy talked with Wendy for a while, another of Evan’s summer nurses.  And we also got to see Omar, one of the 3 fellows who worked hard throughout the month of January to restore Evan to health.

It seems so strange to say this, but we became overwhelmed with positive memories.  This place was our daily routine for days and weeks at a time.  They truly cared for our little boy with all of their hearts and souls, wanting nothing more than to send him home with his mommy and daddy, happy and healthy.  They are a 2^nd family to us.  The feelings we had to see them again can only be described in one way.  Evan, as a baby, knew his relatives because he is our son.  We introduced him to his Grandmas, Grandpas, Aunts, and Uncles.  People know him because they know us.  But this group of people represented something else.  We would not know them except for Evan.  He introduced them to us!  And I think that changes the whole basis for the relationship.  Caring for him was their life.  As one nurse put it to Greg one day, “If you go down (pass out) in a crisis, we’re just going to kick you out of the way to get to Evan.”  These were the only people besides ourselves that we had 100% faith in to do what Evan needed to be done.  This is not at all to say that we don’t trust our families.  But Evan required special care because of his condition.  We HAD to do certain things to care for him…things that sometimes other people could not bring themselves to do, and we certainly never asked them to.  But those people in that unit could do EVERYTHING that needed to be done.  Our trust was such that we could leave Evan night after night to sleep with the assurance that they would care for him completely.  And that’s why they are family…because they always understood Evan in total, his medical needs and his emotional needs.  And we don’t think that, based on all of this, it’s too much of a stretch to say that being in the CICU for 102 days was like being at home.  It felt yesterday as though we had walked into our old house!

After 15 minutes, it was time for everyone to get back to work.  Another of God’s many blessings yesterday was that rounds were done and there were no pressing concerns when we arrived in the unit.  All those people actually had 15 minutes to come talk to us!  For any of you who have spent time in the ICU environment, you know that this is not often the case.  There is so much unpredictability and so little down time, especially for everyone at once…at least, everyone we knew!

So we headed back out the door, and as we were saying our goodbyes to Rose, another very special nurse came out to catch us before we left.  Julie was Evan’s nurse many times this past winter.  She is a devoted worker who knows her way around that unit, probably better than anyone else in there.  It seemed that she always knew what would need to be done next.  Julie was also Evan’s nurse the day he went home with God.  One of the things that will forever stick with us is the tears that filled her eyes that day.  She had spent so many days with him and was one of the many reasons he got up to the recovery floor on February 6.  Even on February 10, she moved around that room with assertion in everything she did, including the moment she wrapped up our little boy and handed him over to Amy for the last time.  We are so grateful for Julie and her service in that unit, and it was truly a huge blessing to visit with her for a few minutes under the amazing circumstances that transpired yesterday.  She hugged everyone in our group, and she even joined us and Rose for the picture shown above.

The entire time we were there, we physically felt Evan in our hearts saying, “This is exactly what I wanted for my birthday.”

Following our time at the hospital, we journeyed over to Trinity Cathedral to say Happy Birthday to our little man.  Amy posted a Happy Birthday note on his plaque, and we cried a few more tears.  But we also were filled with joy and love for the gifts we had received from God and from Evan.

We then attempted to drive to the South Side to have lunch at Nakama.  We say “attempt” because we took every wrong turn we could possibly take, and it took us an hour to get there when it should have taken 15 minutes.  But we had the chance to talk to Uncle Christopher about the wedding plans that he and Aunt Heather were working on.

Once we got to Nakama, we all enjoyed the giant meals we ate, and then it was time for birthday cake.  Before we started to cut the cake, the staff of Nakama sang Happy Birthday to Evan and Amy…Amy was quite surprised, totally forgetting that her birthday is next week!  After blowing out the candles, Gramps gave her a birthday card addressed to “Little Buddy and Sweetheart.”  Inside the card was a gift of family history, going down Crammy’s line, beginning with her grandfather, J.J. Dornberger.  Amy discovered that she shares the same birthday as her Great-Grandmother, Mary Catherine Dornberger Brennen (Crammy’s mom) who was born in 1898.  She also learned that J.J. had 6 children, the youngest (Lindley) of which died from an ear infection as an infant in 1902, and that he had built his own banjo with mother of pearl and wooden inlays in the mid 1890’s.  In the card was written that Lindley was currently teaching Evan how to play the banjo because his arms aren’t quite long enough to play the harp yet.  J  Then Gramps got out the banjo that was made by Evan’s Great-Great-Great Grandfather and started to play it.  When he finished, he passed it over to Amy as a gift to the 5^th and 6^th generations, along with a plaque outlining the people in each generation who held onto the banjo…from J.J. all the way down to Evan.

We then ate cake and opened very special cards to Evan from Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Chris and Aunt Heather.  Evan has some very special family and is very blessed as are we.  Before we left to go home, Greg stopped in the rest room, his first time alone all day.  As he stood there, a vision entered his mind of the Lord Jesus gently rocking Evan in His arms.  The two of them were smiling at one another.  The whole day just felt like that.  There was a presence with us that was not of this world, and we are so grateful.  July 10, 2007, was a beautiful day.  We drove home with a sense of joy we had not felt in a long, long time.  For certain, the CICU can count on an appearance from us every year!  Thank you Lord, for the wonderful blessing of Evan’s birthday.  We love you Bubba Lubba, and we miss you incredibly, but we absolutely know you are so perfect and that you are Home.  We give you all our Hugs and Kisses, and every ounce of love in our hearts!