From a 25-weeker to a bright, happy toddler

By Maureen Gilmer, Riley Children’s Health senior writer, mgilmer1@iuhealth.org

Major McBride is a little guy with a big smile and a name that almost commands attention.

Even when you see that he is just 2 years old, the attention he gets is entirely appropriate as he leads rousing renditions of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and “Jesus Loves Me” during his occupational therapy session at Riley Hospital for Children.

Contrast this picture with the fact that young Major was born several months prematurely, weighing just 1 pound, 9 ounces, and you have a remarkable success story.

That success started with advanced medical care, but it blossomed with love, dedication and early intervention.

The toddler’s parents, Trae and Stacia McBride, have been committed to giving their son every advantage since he was born at 25 weeks’ gestation by emergency C-section at another Indianapolis hospital.

Major spent the first few months of his life in the neonatal intensive care unit at Community North Hospital before being transferred to Riley Hospital, but Riley was involved in his care early on.

The Riley bronchopulmonary dysplasia (BPD) team treats preterm lung disease common in preemies who require respiratory support. The BPD program at Riley is one of the few interdisciplinary programs in the Midwest — and the only in Indiana — providing care to patients with BPD.

“The BPD team wanted to keep a closer eye on him and his lung development,” Stacia McBride said, explaining why they chose to move Major to Riley, where he is also followed by the NeuroNICU clinic. “We also thought it would be better developmentally if he were at a children’s hospital with resources like music therapy and all the extra things,” she said.

The BPD clinic will follow Major until he is 5.

“They have been phenomenal,” she said of the clinic team, “keeping a good eye on him.”

The McBrides keep a good eye on Major as well, working with him at home to make sure he catches up developmentally with his peers.

From the looks of things, Major is not only on target, he is advanced in some ways.

He was a little slow to walk, taking off at about 22 months, but now he can barely be contained, toddling around the therapy room at Riley, hopping from one activity to the next with occupational therapist Annie Chambers, who has worked with him since he was a baby.

“It’s been really cool to see the continuum of care here,” Chambers said. “In the beginning, things were hard for him. And now there’s no stopping him.”

That’s due in no small part to Chambers’ efforts, but she gives the credit to Major’s parents, who are diligent about working with him at home.

“They are the world’s most incredible family,” Chambers said. “And they are champions for Riley, sharing their experience with others out in the community. On top of all of the things they do for Major, their love for Riley extends outside these walls.”

That’s because Riley has walked this journey with them for two years, Stacia said.

“When he came to Riley, they already knew his entire story. I really, really liked that,” she said. “The teams were in place, and they knew him, even before he moved over here. Everyone stayed on top of his care.”

The couple understand that the best way to help their son is to work in partnership with his care team.

“We always strive to help him get as far ahead as possible,” said Major’s proud dad as he got down on the mat with his son during therapy. “We knew that with him being premature, it’s expected that he would have delays, but we work to help him overcome them.”

Major went home on oxygen but no longer requires it. Same with the G-tube he once needed for nutrition and medicine.

“We slowly reduced the G-tube feeds, and now he’s eating everything,” his mom said.

At home, Major loves watching “Ms. Rachel,” he loves his dinosaurs, and he loves books, his parents said.

It’s no surprise to learn that Stacia, who also works in healthcare, has a passion for early childhood development. She makes sure Major goes to story time at the library every week.

“We realize that the first three to five years in a child’s life are the most critical for development,” she said. “So, we are introducing him to anything we can – language, reading, vocalization, colors, numbers. Their brains are so malleable, and he loves it.”

During this therapy session, Major does a little painting and a little fishing. He works on a puzzle, plays basketball, sings and dances. And he talks – a lot. He can tell you when his birthday is and how to spell his name. He can string words together in short sentences, and he can follow simple directions.

His favorite phrases, his parents said, are “This is so much fun” and “I am so happy.”

He is indeed a joyful boy.

“He has come a long way with Annie,” Stacia said. “I remember in his first appointment we were working on balance – him just being able to sit on his bottom and hold himself up. And look at him now.”

He’s a little boss man now, his parents joke. Social and friendly, offering fist bumps and high fives.

From a therapeutic lens, Chambers said she and her therapy peers always want to maximize the time they spend with their young patients ages 0 to 3 who are at higher risk for developmental delays.

“When Major first came to us, he was not receiving First Steps yet, but even after that, we still kept seeing him because we knew he was at risk. We were all putting in the work, and we knew that Major was showing progress, so we really maximized that 0-3 window,” Chambers said.

“We have this window of neuroplasticity, and he is showing us that he is thriving.”

Their focus now is on auditory processing, Chambers said.

“He can imitate me all day long, which is awesome, but that next step is for him to listen to what I’m saying rather than just watching what I’m doing,” she explained.

Because Major loves music, she suggests his parents use it to improve his receptive-auditory processing skills. Songs that say “clap your hands” or “stomp your feet” are perfect for that exercise.

When she mentions “Head, Shoulders, Knees & Toes” as another good example, Major launches into his own version with a little help from his dad: “Eyes, ears, mouth, nose,” Major says proudly.

His parents can’t hide their pride when it comes to their little boy.

“Now, we follow his lead,” Stacia said.

Photos by Mike Dickbernd, IU Health visual journalist, mdickbernd@iuhealth.org