Why She Wasn’t Daddy’s Baby Girl

Lis Gal
5 min readMar 19, 2019

It was a bitter and stormy winter evening when 6 month old Wendy was found unconscious in her play pen by her mom.

When I arrived in the Emergency room because I received a stat page, I saw a beautiful 6 month old baby lying on the gurney unconscious. Wendy’s parents were at her bedside. Wendy’s mom was pacing and as a mother of an infant myself, my heart broke for her.

The Emergency room paged Respiratory Therapy as a precaution because they had no clue why little Wendy wasn’t responding. The nurses were told that Wendy had been sick that day. Mom said Wendy was responsive and playing; when she walked into the room at some point, Wendy was unresponsive.

The Doctor began ordering tests to find out what was going on. He was suspecting a virus or something more severe, meningitis.

It wasn’t long after I arrived in the Emergency room that Wendy stopped breathing. Everyone who was working on Wendy felt a sense of panic but you always have to put that on the back burner and do whatever is needed to try and save a life.

An endotracheal tube was inserted by the Doctor and I hooked up the ventilation bag and began to manually ventilate Wendy so she could breathe.

The nurses hooked Wendy up to IV’s, drew blood, called X-ray and made sure all the appropriate tests were done. I continued to ventilate Wendy, begging silently for her to start breathing on her own. The nurses told me they were going to tend to some other patients while I continued to help Wendy breathe.

Suddenly I was alone with Wendy’s Dad

As I continued to squeeze my ventilation bag, I would continuously look up at her heart monitor, praying her heart didn’t stop next. Her dad stood on the opposite side of the bed from me and he became very chatty. I had no clue where mom had gone, she was no-where to be seen.

In the meantime, Wendy’s dad went on to tell me that he used to work in a hospital. I asked what he used to do and he told me he worked in a cafeteria. Honestly, I don’t remember much more… all I can remember is that Wendy’s dad seemed absorbed with himself as he paced and continued to talk so much my head began to spin. I remember thinking, “Why does he keep talking about himself, why hasn’t he put his…



Lis Gal

Writer with a personal interest in Mental Health & Wellness. Writing with a mission: End the labels. Photography is my hobby, life is my passion.