Going Above and Beyond the Call of Medicine
1Samuel 1:27-28: I prayed for this child and the Lord has granted me what I ask of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord, and he worshiped the Lord there.
Dearest Lynn,
I am writing you today because I think you should know that my husband and I both consider you one of our greatest blessings.
 On January 18, 2008 we came to Magee so that I could be induced to deliver our first son, Samuel David Chioda. It was my due date - the day we envisioned being so full of joy. Instead, on that day, our son died and I was about to deliver him stillborn. Everything was so different than we had dreamed it would be. Our hearts were aching...we were absolutely broken. We still are.
To the right: Christi and David Chioda celebrate their new son, Caleb, after losing their first son, Samuel.
As I lay in my hospital room I felt the most intense grief I have ever known or imagined. I have to be honest, I was questioning where God was. I believed that he was there, but I felt really abandoned.
After we came home from the hospital, I continued to ask that question. Where were you God? I have to tell you the answer I received. He was there. He showed up through you, in your heart, in your words, in your actions. We saw his love in you.
We hope that if you ever get weary and wonder if what you do makes a difference in the lives of your patients, that you can remember our story because you have impacted our lives forever.
When you walked into my room that evening, and I looked into your eyes, I knew you were kind...in an instant I felt safe with you. You can see a person's heart in their eyes. I could tell yours was full of compassion. When you allowed me, a stranger, to lay my head on your shoulder during a monstrous contraction and you soothed me by rubbing my back, I felt like my own mother was in the room helping me along. You made me feel so supported. I knew I was in good hands. I don't know if you remember, but with each contraction my shoulders would rise up by my ears in extreme tension. You would gently lay your hand on my shoulders and remind me to relax. You looked into my eyes and breathed right along with me throughout my labor. When I began to push, you were a tremendous help as you encouraged me with your words and coached me along telling me where to direct my pushing to be more effective at bringing the baby down. I felt like I was up against a giant that night having to go through labor while hurting for the loss of our boy at the same time. You helped me in ways you may never fully know.
I appreciate that you mentioned to us that our son might have some peeling skin. We would have never expected to see that, so it would have been a shock to us. Since you told us of this possibility, we were not frightened by it and were able to look right past it.
Most importantly, I am forever grateful that you encouraged me to hold our son in my arms. I wanted to hold him, but I didn't know what the hospital expected me to do. Would the doctors and nurses think I was morbid for holding and kissing our deceased child? I would have done it no matter what, but since you encouraged me to, I did not have to worry about what anyone else would think, and I was able to fully savor and enjoy those precious moments with our son. I am so thankful for the time you let us share with him in private too. During those times, I felt free to be myself. I rocked Samuel and I sang to him - things I had always wanted to do, moments I now treasure. You see, a family who has lost their child has a long journey ahead of them once they leave the hospital. One of the things that helped us get through that journey is to be able to reflect on the time we spent with our son that night and the love we gave him. The fact that we were able to give him some of ourselves that night allowed us to be parents to Samuel for a moment, to take care of him. Your encouragement and patiently giving us that time has impacted our whole life. It goes way beyond that night into our future. We have moments to treasure now instead of the regret we would feel for the rest of our days if we had not had this time with Samuel.
Also, thank you for treating our baby as you would your own. Thank you for holding him with gentleness. Thank you for respecting his life even though it was no longer. Thank you for swaddling him and dressing him in our special outfit, for taking treasured photographs and his footprints, and for cutting a lock of his hair (it is the only piece of him I have in my hands now, and at his funeral I was given a locket to keep it in.)
One of the hardest moments of that night was handing our son over and saying goodbye for the final time. We knew it was the last time on this earth we would see him and touch him. It was so painful. We wanted desperately to leave the hospital with him. When I put him in your arms that night, I felt that you were the closest thing to an angel that would carry him away. I felt that he was safe with you...that when you were out of my sight he would still be treated with love, dignity, and respect. All you had done leading up to that moment allowed me to see your heart, and I can not imagine having to hand him over to anyone else.
I hope you know that we appreciate your medical expertise too. You are very knowledgeable and certainly are very skilled at your job. We don't want to undermine that in any way. But you went above and beyond what we could have ever dreamed of having in a nurse. Feeling safe in your care physically and emotionally made my burden lighter. I hope that the value of what you did for us is recognized. There are many that can perform a procedure, but fewer that can do what you did. There is so much value in that...lifelong value for us!
We thank you for who you are. We know that God was taking care of us that night because he led us straight to you.
With much love and gratitude,
David and Christi Chioda
Opportunities for Giving
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