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NICU nurse adopts 14-year-old patient who delivered triplets alone

“I knew it would be impossible to find a foster home that would take all four of them. No one was going to take a teen mom and her preemie triplets.”

Today|YouTube

NICU nurse adopts teen with three babies.

Having your first baby is a scary experience. Everything is new—you've quite literally never done this before—not to mention an entire human is going to be removed from your body one way or another. Childbirth, no matter how your baby leaves your body, is not for the weak. But imagine giving birth alone to not just one baby, but three, all at the same time. Then imagine doing that feat at the age of 14.

Shariya Small experienced that scenario in a hospital in Indiana, and her nurse Katrina Mullen took note. Small's babies were premature, born at just 26 weeks, when the average gestation for triplets is 33 weeks, according to ReproductiveFacts.org. Due to their early birth, the babies, Serenitee, Samari and Sarayah, had to stay in the NICU at Community Hospital North in Indianapolis for more than five months, according to Today.com.

During their time in the NICU, Mullen noticed the young mom visited her babies alone, not appearing to have much of a support system. “She’d be there alone for days at a time sitting at her babies’ bedside,” Mullen told Today.com.

The pair got to know each other over the months that the babies were in the hospital, but Small continued to be reluctant to open up about her family life. That changed after she found out that Mullen had her first child at 16 and had given it up for adoption. Their experiences bonded the two moms, and Mullen began helping to care for the babies and Small by giving her advice and showing her how to properly care for the infants.

Eventually, Mullen gave Small her phone number before the babies were discharged from the hospital. It quickly became apparent that Small did not have a support system, as she called Mullen often asking for advice. Out of concern, the nurse went to visit Small an hour away, where she was living with a family member.

The condition of the home was concerning enough, but Mullen became even more worried when she saw how thin Small's son Samari was. It turns out he had to be admitted to the hospital, which prompted a visit from Child Protective Services, who determined that Small and her three infants would need to enter foster care. She gave the social worker Mullen's information and things began to fall into place.

Listen to Small and Mullen explain their unique story below:

This article originally appeared last year.

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What I want all parents to know about delivering premature babies.

Something just didn’t feel right. My stomach churned, and the nausea set in as I realized the unimaginable: I was going into labor.

Nurses rushed to my hospital room as a flurry of chaos surrounded me. I tried to stay calm, but as I looked at my husband, the tears and sobs set in.

I glanced over at the wall where nurses had made a chain link, counting down the days to viability. Two little links left on the wall. Those two days would get me to 23 weeks, our goal for my failing body. But, we didn’t make it. At 22 weeks 5 days, I went into labor with our triplets.

Image courtesy of Stacey Skrysak.

We had been preparing for this moment for weeks. At 20 weeks gestation, my water broke with our first triplet, Abigail. I lay in my hospital bed, unable to sleep as I pondered what might happen in the coming hours. To our surprise, my children were content; the warm blanket of my body provided the comfort they needed to continue to grow.

As the long hours stretched into days, we began daily meetings with doctors, discussing our best and worst case scenarios. For each week that my pregnancy progressed, the better chance our triplets had of surviving.

We heard endless statistics and the challenges we faced if our children were born at 23, 24, 25 weeks of gestation. The doctors were practical, not sugarcoating the prognosis, but they still gave us a glimmer of hope.

While many hospitals won’t intervene until a baby reaches 23 or 24 weeks gestation, our hospital believed in giving our children a chance if possible. And that was the case on June 23, 2013, when I delivered my children at 22 weeks 6 days.

Our story is far from picture perfect. Our first triplet passed away within two hours of birth; our second triplet died just shy of two months old. Our surviving triplet spent nearly four months in the NICU, overcoming a mountain of hurdles, before finally coming home to begin her life.

The long, bumpy road is now a distant memory. Our 22-weeker is happy and healthy today. Peyton is our one-pound miracle, and according to her doctors, she is completely caught up developmentally at 3 years old.

We know she is the rarity. Our children were given a less than 10% chance of survival. If they survived, their chances of leading a healthy life with few complications were slim. Luckily, fate was on our side. Our doctors gave our children a chance at life. But, many families are not so lucky.

Over the years, I’ve heard from hundreds of parents of premature babies. Some share their miracle stories that mirror my daughter’s journey, but oftentimes I hear stories of lost hope.

I hear from parents wondering why my children were given a chance when their hospital only offered "comfort care," allowing the family to hold their baby as it died in their arms. Every time I hear those words, a little piece of my heart crumbles. Every time I think about a child not given a fighting chance, I look at my daughter Peyton. I imagine what life would be like if I had walked out of our hospital empty handed, always wondering what if? Even though two of my children eventually passed away, each one of them was given that fighting chance. However short their lives were, we created memories, and that’s only possible because our doctors stepped in with lifesaving measures.

There is no way my triplets would have survived without the intensive care they received. Babies born between 22 and 24 weeks are in a grey area, hovering between life and death. But research has shown that a baby this young can survive, and in rare cases like ours, the child can thrive.

Image courtesy of Stacey Skrysak.

So what can be done? I’m not asking all hospitals to lower their viability standards. Many hospitals are simply not equipped to treat babies that tiny or young. But, more can be done, and that starts with education.

No mother plans on having a premature baby, and oftentimes, the complications happen in an instant. We need to educate parents and let them know their options. In some cases, they can be transferred to other hospitals that can better treat the youngest babies. In other cases, it comes down to communication and a better understanding of the hospital’s policies.

June 23, 2013, and August 16, 2013, are the two worst days of my life. Those are the dates that two of my triplets died. But with the heartache comes happiness as I think of the memories I created in their short time here on Earth. Abby and Parker may have been tiny, but they are making a huge impact in so many lives around the world.

As for my miracle survivor, we know that Peyton could face struggles down the road due to her premature birth, but we’re ready and prepared. Peyton continues to climb mountains, conquering everything that comes her way. She is living proof that miracles do exist, and she’s the poster child for why even the youngest babies should be given that fighting chance at life.

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My open letter to pregnant women everywhere.

Many women experience infertility, a premature birth, or infant loss, but we don’t talk about it much.

Pregnancy is no walk in the park, and I know this all too well.

With a tiny human slowly growing inside of you for more than nine months, you are bound to be uncomfortable. But, while pregnancy challenges both your mind and body, I have a request: I want to ask expectant mothers to embrace the bump.

Let me explain: I’m a statistic, one of the millions of women out there who didn’t experience the perfect pregnancy and would give anything to reach full term with a child.

I guess you can say I’m the trifecta of mishaps. I spent years dreaming of having a child, only to face infertility. After my husband and I found out we were expecting triplets, a series of medical setbacks caused me to go into labor at 22 weeks. And while we have one beautiful survivor now, two of my triplets eventually passed away because of their extreme prematurity. That’s why my heart sinks when I see expectant mothers publicly post about how "over it" they are when it comes to their third trimester.

I remember spending several weeks on bed rest in the hospital, constantly praying for my triplets to sit tight for just a few more weeks.

Even a few days could have made a difference. By 20 weeks gestation, I was almost the size of a full-term pregnancy and I could barely turn from one side of the bed to the other.

All photos here by Stacey Skrysak, used with permission.

I had three babies using my bladder as a boxing bag, yet I was only allowed to get up a few times a day due to my health. On the day I went into labor, it felt like I had been punched in the gut. The pain from contractions was tough, and the attempts to stop the labor were even more difficult.

But, even worse than all of that pain combined was the emotional, unbearable pain of knowing that my children would most likely die. In that instant, as the doctor told me I had to deliver, I wanted to go back in time. I longed to feel my babies kick and remember the carefree days when my pregnancy was easy.

Many women experience infertility, a premature birth, or infant loss, but we don’t talk about it much.

For those women, like me, pregnancy can be a painful memory. I was robbed of my pregnancy and never got that magical delivery room experience; there was no picture-perfect moment of me happily holding my children.

Instead, I delivered my first triplet and held her in my arms as she passed away shortly after birth. The chaos, fear, and heartache is what I remember, not the beauty of bringing a new child into the world.

So here’s what I want you to know: I’m not asking you to stop complaining.

I'm not asking you to censor your experience either or to walk on eggshells when you feel the physically and emotionally draining side effects of pregnancy. Pregnancy is hard. And even three years later, I still make fun of my squishy belly, a post-pregnancy problem that I’m stuck with for good, much like those pesky chin hairs that forgot to go away after my children were born.

Instead, I’m simply passing along an observation from someone who’s had another kind of experience, and I’d like to encourage you to be empathetic to moms like me. As you stare at your swollen feet and clench your chest with heartburn, please think of your friends and social media acquaintances who might be silently struggling.

Until I shared my journey of infertility, I didn’t realize how many women also secretly struggled with it. I had no idea how many families experienced life in the NICU until I was in the midst of that journey. I think you’d be surprised at how many people you know are praying for the chance to someday have a healthy child.

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