Amy Ghostkeeper was born twenty-four weeks after conception: too early to survive, but that\u2019s exactly what she did \u2013 survive, at least for the first two years of her life. This is the story of Amy and her family, recorded so there will be more people that know of her.<\/p>\n
Amy\u2019s mother, Candace Ghostkeeper, was a young First Nations woman of nineteen years old. Candace and her man, forty-two-year-old James, already had Joey, three years old. They were a happy family living in old town Widelake by the river in a section that flooded repeatedly over the years. Their house smelled damp in the spring when the river\u2019s level rose almost to overflow its banks, and some years it did indeed flood their yard. Nevertheless, they stayed, as it was band land and James\u2019 entitlement. They couldn\u2019t afford to buy any land somewhere else anyway.<\/p>\n
Their home was a handmade two-room log home heated by a wood stove. They gathered the wood from crown land hauling it out of the bush with James\u2019 dilapidated truck that he fixed endlessly each time it broke down. They lived on what food they could collect from their own efforts by fishing, hunting, and gathering berries. It helped that they lived close to a lake with enormous reserves of jackfish and walleye, also called northern pike and perch. Plenty of moose and deer as well roamed around Widelake in this northern part of Alberta, Canada. I guess you could call their life style traditional. Occasionally, the couple would make a trip to the food bank when cash was short and Candace needed to buy staples.<\/p>\n
They kept to themselves and seldom went into town, about a ten-minute drive further uphill toward the south. James was not a drinker. Candace had no other ambitions than to be a mom. They went everywhere together, little Joey following his mom and dad without complaints.<\/p>\n
Candace was a quiet and rather timid woman with long hair that she kept in a braid. She was tall with a proud, upright posture, always dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt or a T-shirt on warmer days, although there were not that many of those in northern Alberta. She was a good person, a good mother and a loyal wife to James.<\/p>\n
Although James was quite traditional, he sported a short haircut, possibly in an attempt to look younger, always covering his head with a ball cap. He was a tall man with a handsome face and hair that showed grey streaks. James already had adult children from a previous relationship. He had left his former partner to live with Candace when she became pregnant with Joey. James\u2019 relatives did not support their relationship and did not visit. Candace\u2019s relatives lived in the next town forty clicks down the road and did not travel much. The little family was quite isolated.<\/p>\n
Candace and James were not involved in political gatherings or in the local First Nations\u2019 council elections, nor did they cast their vote in any non-Aboriginal elections. Once in a while James would drop Candace off at the Legion in town for a few hours of Bingo in town \u2013 her only entertainment \u2013 while he looked after Joey. Life was good. Candace loved being a mother to little Joey and looked forward to having more children. Joey was a big boy, built just like his dad and he looked older than his three years. Candace became pregnant again and she told James happily that she was sure this would be a girl. The public health nurse was aware of the family through the birth of Joey, and she had educated the family about prenatal services. Candace went to her doctor regularly for her maternity check-ups.<\/p>\n
On a particularly clear night \u2013 it was full moon \u2013 Candace could not sleep and was more restless than other nights. Her stomach hurt with cramps and she thought she might have indigestion. When the pain intensified, she became scared that something might be wrong with her baby. She and James went off to the local hospital, taking Joey with them.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The town of Widelake with less than ten thousand residents did not have obstetricians, let alone one on call at the hospital. The emergency doctor examined Candace who was then at twenty-four weeks into her pregnancy. \u201cYour baby seems to be in distress. I think we\u2019d better get you to the hospital in Edmonton. If baby is born now, it will likely not survive; it\u2019s too early. I will call the air ambulance to take you there.\u201d<\/p>\n
Candace was taken to Edmonton, the next big urban centre, in an attempt to save her foetus. The air ambulance \u2013 a helicopter \u2013 had no space for James, and somebody had to look after Joey anyway, so James returned home with Joey and waited, and waited.<\/p>\n
He got Candace\u2019s call the next morning at around 10.<\/p>\n
\u201cHi, it\u2019s me. Would you please, come and get me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? Are you OK? Can you leave already? What about the baby?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, I am OK, but the baby came out anyway. The doctors here said I could leave. I hate it here. Pick me up, please? Our baby is still alive. It\u2019s a girl, didn\u2019t I tell you it would be a girl? I was right. But I am not allowed to touch her, or even be in the same room. I can\u2019t feed her, but I don\u2019t have milk yet anyway. They feed her with a tube and she has to stay in a special incubator in the intensive care for babies. She is all hooked up with tubes all over her, to measure her heart and for breathing too, and she is very small, her whole body is as long as my hand. She can almost see all her veins–her skin is very thin. The doctors explained I couldn\u2019t do anything for her right now anyway, so I might as well go home. They told me she might die anyway. She is born too early. I will pray for her, but I don\u2019t want to stay here. I\u2019m tired. Will you come?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course I will come. I am so sorry the doctors could not stop her from being born. It is too early. Are you alright then, did she come out alright?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, it was quick, she came out of me almost right after they landed the helicopter that they put it down on top of the roof. They had just time enough to wheel me into an operating room. She was so small, I hardly noticed anything after the doctor gave me something for the pain.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOK, I will leave soon. I will drop Joey off at Granny\u2019s. It\u2019s too long for him to sit in the truck both ways. Where do I go to find you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you go to the maternity ward on the 6th<\/sup> floor and ask the receptionist, I\u2019ll be in one of the day rooms. The address is 10240 Kingsway Ave. Don\u2019t get lost. See you soon, bye.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOK. Bye.\u201d<\/p>\n There was no, I love you<\/i>, as that is not their way. The less words used, the better. Even Joey was a quiet boy, although very active. James got Candace home that day. In the evening they sat together again as a family, minus one small girl that was struggling for her life in a far away hospital without them. From then on Candace prayed every day three times: as soon as she got up, then when Joey went down for a nap, and again before she went to sleep. She was raised with a mix of Roman Catholic and Cree Nation beliefs that seamlessly had became one religion, for which one didn\u2019t need a church or a priest to worship. She went outside and prayed to Mother Nature and all good spirits of her ancestors while offering some of the tobacco especially saved for this purpose. She resolved to go to a sweat together with James at the shaman\u2019s place \u2013 old man Houle \u2013 so they could be ready for baby if and when she would come home with them one day.<\/p>\n That day finally came after the baby\u2019s tenth week in the hospital. Until that day, Candace and James had made a few trips to visit Amy. But now they could take her home. Candace did not let her daughter out of her eyes. In spite of having missed the full term for creating a bond with her child-to-be, Candace was a good mother and all her instincts were intact.<\/p>\n Amy\u2019s paediatrician made a referral through the local health unit to the early intervention program to help Amy catch up; that\u2019s how we met. From then we had weekly play sessions at their home. We chatted, played with baby Amy and kept Joey busy as well. We talked about Amy\u2019s progress and how we could encourage her development. Each week I left different educational toys for either child that were stimulating for their age. Many toys completely new to her as well, Candace played her heart out with her children; all three loved it. I became the lady with the bag full of toys imagining myself somewhat of a postmodern Mary Poppins. In the meantime I observed Amy\u2019s progress and charted it at intervals on the Gesell test, a standard for child development. Amy did fine.<\/p>\n They did not really know Amy very well and their discovery of who she was started with a vengeance. Amy\u2019s compromised lungs had some remaining difficulties that were due to the dry and unhealthy heat from the woodstove. The health unit\u2019s involvement had the effect of James accessing a subsidy to replace the woodstove with a gas heater. Amy\u2019s breathing improved. As Amy was tube-fed directly into her stomach while in the incubator, some scar tissue was visible on her tummy. She seemed to favour one side over another, so we encouraged her to use both hands for playing, and both legs when she started to stand up and shuttle along the couch and coffee table, learning to walk. She was reluctant and preferred to sit down.<\/p>\n The summer arrived and daylight became longer. Summer nights in the north are significantly longer than anywhere in the south as the sun moves through the northern hemisphere toward the summer solstice. There is no greater joy after a long winter with much snow and minus 35-degree temperatures than rooting around in the garden dirt on long, bright evenings. My friendship grew with this small and quiet family and I invited them over for a visit to my home, on the way to Granny\u2019s home in the next town. On evening they came by, all four of them. The children happily played in the sandbox with my daughter and I showed them her bunnies.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cI am trying to find a new home for them, as I am unable to keep them over the winter. One cold day I found the cage littered with a number of frozen-stiff, naked newborn bunnies. I had not even known the two bunnies were not the same sex. Since then, I have kept the lovers separate, because I don\u2019t want more bunnies. You know the saying about rabbits\u2026But now the neighbour\u2019s dog comes by every night, barking at them and scares the heck out of them.\u201d<\/p>\n They laughed and then James asked: \u201cCould you eat these bunnies? Are they like other rabbits?\u201d<\/p>\n I was a bit taken aback, but replied, \u201cYes, sure. I am not interested in doing that, as I couldn\u2019t eat a pet. Some people breed bunnies as a food resource. They are mostly in their cages and my girl hardly ever plays with them anymore. They turn pretty wild if you don\u2019t handle them regularly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf you like, I\u2019ll take them off your hands.\u201d<\/p>\n Not a man of many words and a good provider, that James. A few minutes later the cages were deposited in the back of his truck. Bye bunnies. I did not tell my daughter what or where the bunnies\u2019 destination would be.<\/p>\n As my temporary assignment had come to an end, I would not see Candace and Amy anymore in a professional capacity after that summer. To my surprise, one Saturday morning in the fall I got a call from Candace.<\/p>\n \u201cHi, I am just calling to tell you that Amy has died. I thought you would want to know.\u201d I was stunned, could not reply right away, then I stammered after some seconds:<\/p>\n \u201cHow can that be, what happened?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAmy was sick, she had a fever and was throwing up, so I went to the hospital, but they sent me away and said Amy was fine, just a flue, and to give her water or juice. Then a couple of hours later I went again, as Amy was not getting better and again they sent me back. Then she was not doing anything anymore and was just pale and not moving, so I went again with James and he got mad at them and that time the doctor sent her by air ambulance to Edmonton. I was with her on the way to the hospital; she died in the ambulance.\u201d James could not be with us and he had to go by car. He was very upset.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Candace, that is terrible, I am so sorry. How could that have happened? Why did the doctor not listen to you? There should be an inquiry about that. You did the right thing. It is absolutely not your fault. You are a good mother. Would you want me to come by your place?\u201d I was unable to keep my emotions in and started weeping for this young woman and her lost baby.<\/p>\n She replied, \u201cI will come to your place. I will tell you more about it. We are going to Granny\u2019s later today.\u201d<\/p>\n When the family, with one small person missing, arrived at my place, both Candace and James were quiet and sombre.<\/p>\n \u201cHow are you coping? Is there anything that I can do?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n \u201cThere is nothing that can be done now. The doctor in the hospital has apologized to us and said he did not realize how serious it was. I know there are other Native women that bring their babies to the hospital when they want a night off, but I wouldn\u2019t want to do that and never did that anyway. I don\u2019t drink; we both don\u2019t drink. They asked later if there was anything they could do, but I wouldn\u2019t know what could be done now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did the doctor say why Amy passed away? Why was she sick?\u201d I barely kept my composure, but felt I needed to, as Candace and James were calm and dignified, even little Joey was moving around a lot less and stuck close to his parents.<\/p>\n \u201cShe had a scar inside her from the feeding tube and that part of her small intestine got narrower and narrower and in the end blocked her intestines as she grew bigger. It poisoned her from the inside out. It is something that happens often to premature babies, they told me.\u201d<\/p>\n Candace\u2019s eyes looked tired and missed their usual brightness, and her colour was paler than usual, her skin more grey than brown. She moved as if in physical pain. James just sat there, defeated, quiet.<\/p>\n \u201cThat was so preventable and if they had checked better and did tests and took x-rays, the doctor might have found that in time and could have saved her life. They failed to do what is their duty and they should be liable for it. If you want to take the hospital to court and claim compensation for suffering and loss of Amy\u2019s life, I will support you and go with you to court. They were at fault in the hospital, Candace. Just because you are young and First Nations, that does not mean your family should get less proper treatment.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know. That\u2019s just the way it is. I can\u2019t change that. You have always been good to us. I want to give something to you,\u201d she said while she handed over a small piece of yellow paper with something on it.<\/p>\n When I saw what it was, I could not contain my tears and wept. Candace had given me a print of Amy\u2019s 1 \u00bd inch small right foot. It was made when she was fighting for her life the first time around at the preemie ICU because she was born premature at twenty-four weeks; and a team of professionals kept her life. In the end, all the technological advancements in the world could not keep her alive when low-tech prejudice prevented her from being saved.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Premature Amy Ghostkeeper was born twenty-four weeks after conception: too early to survive, but that\u2019s exactly what she did \u2013 survive, at least for the first two years of her life. This is the story of Amy and her family, recorded so there will be more people that know of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":1657,"parent":193,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-637","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue16\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/637","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue16\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue16\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue16\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue16\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=637"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue16\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/637\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1619,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue16\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/637\/revisions\/1619"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue16\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/193"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue16\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1657"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue16\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=637"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}