Atlas and Sailor were born at UAB Hospital on January 30th, 2017. Although they spent some time in the NICU, the majority of our stay was in the Continuing Care Nursery (CCN). The nursing staff there was exceptional. Nearly every nurse treated our premature twins as if they were their own family.
Our overall experience in the CCN was overwhelmingly positive — but we nearly allowed one difficult moment to overshadow all of it.
We never left the hospital. Amanda and I stayed by their side the entire time. As the days passed, however, Amanda began feeling worse instead of better. Her blood pressure had climbed too high, and her physician ordered her to go home and rest. Reluctantly, we agreed. We trusted the staff. They had earned that trust. I took her home so she could sleep while I handled a few matters outside the hospital.
When we returned, the atmosphere had shifted. I walked into the room to the sound of an alarm. It was Atlas. A feeding pump had delivered half of his tube feeding, and no one had returned to stop the machine. Moments later Amanda realized that a blanket — one that held sentimental value for us — had been bundled into the hospital linens and sent off with the laundry.
In that moment, it felt careless. It felt like our trust had been misplaced.
We were upset. I was angry enough to sit down and write a scathing review online. Below is what I wrote.
Our twin babies were born January 30th 2017 at 33 weeks and four days. After more then three years of trying to conceive we are truly blessed to call ourselves the proud parents of Atlas and Sailor Sourvelis.
Both twins were quickly moved to the Continued Care Nursing unit and are still patients at the time of this writing. We were immediately impressed by the facilities. The nursing staff was especially impressive. They not only took excellent care of our preemie twins, but were also extremely conscientious about our family's needs and super supportive of our parental decisions. Although not every nurse exhibited these traits; the overwhelmingly majority were excellent. Nurses that are extra special and dear to our heart are worth mentioning specifically. Leah, Makenzie, Carrie, Rebecah, Mallory, and Stephanie are the pinnacle example of Florence Nightingale's quote "the greatest heroes are those who do their duty in the daily grind..."
As a couple committed to being parents we have made specific decisions in our life that have afforded us the opportunity to live a family first approach in our lives. UAB Hospital Women and Infants' Services family friendly atmosphere allowed us the opportunity to be with our children during these trying, yet special time.
The greatest compliment I can offer comes from my wife Amanda Sourvelis. Amanda is a nursing instructor and a very talented one. My wife has a nursing education philosophy that she shares with her student "If you can't care for each patient like it's your dearest family member then you do not deserve to be a nurse." Amanda trust UAB Hospital Women and Infants' center with our most precious family members, Atlas and Sailor.
As I was writing that review, something shifted. I realized the day we had just experienced, as upsetting as it was, did not represent our stay. In fact, it was the only bad day we had in the CCN.
For weeks, nurses had treated our children with patience and skill. They answered questions. They reassured us. They celebrated small improvements. They supported two exhausted parents during one of the most vulnerable seasons of our lives.
One mistake, even a painful one, did not define them.
Life often works this way. We allow one negative moment to eclipse dozens of good ones. We become consumed by the exception and forget the pattern.
That review gained the attention of the nursing manager and eventually the marketing executive at UAB. They reached out and asked to hear our story. An angry letter that began as criticism became something else, a testimony. Not of perfection, but of perspective.
One imperfect moment did not erase weeks of excellence.
Sometimes we have to ask ourselves: is this moment the whole story?
Most of the time, it isn’t.