The Sickest Babies Are Covered in Wires. New Tech Is Changing That.
I'll never forget the experience of having a child in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU).
Now more than ever, we're working to remove the barriers between new parents and their infants.
It was another layer of uncertainty that filtered into my experience of being a first-time parent. There was so much I didn't know, and the wires attached to my son's small body for the first week of his life were a reminder of that.
I wanted to be the best mother possible. I deeply desired to bring my son home to start our lives. More than anything, I longed for a wireless baby whom I could hold and love freely without limitations.
The wires suggested my baby was fragile and it left me feeling severely unprepared, anxious, and depressed.
In recent years, research has documented the ways that NICU experiences take a toll on parents' mental health. But thankfully, medical technology is rapidly being developed to help reduce the emotional fallout of the NICU. Now more than ever, we're working to remove the barriers between new parents and their infants. The latest example is the first ever wireless monitoring system that was recently developed by a team at Northwestern University.
After listening to the needs of parents and medical staff, Debra Weese-Mayer, M.D., a professor of pediatric autonomic medicine at Feinberg School of Medicine, along with a team of materials scientists, engineers, dermatologists and pediatricians, set out to develop this potentially life-changing technology. Weese-Mayer believes wireless monitoring will have a significant impact for people on all sides of the NICU experience.
"With elimination of the cumbersome wires," she says, "the parents will find their infant more approachable/less intimidating and have improved access to their long-awaited but delivered-too-early infant, allowing them to begin skin-to-skin contact and holding with reduced concern for dislodging wires."
So how does the new system work?
Very thin "skin like" patches made of silicon rubber are placed on the surface of the skin to monitor vitals like heart rate, respiration rate, and body temperature. One patch is placed on the chest or back and the other is placed on the foot.
These patches are safer on the skin than previously used adhesives, reducing the cuts and infections associated with past methods. Finally, an antenna continuously delivers power, often from under the mattress.
The data collected from the patches stream from the body to a tablet or computer.
New wireless sensor technology is being studied to replace wired monitoring in NICUs in the coming years.
(Northwestern University)
Weese-Mayer hopes that wireless systems will be standard soon, but first they must undergo more thorough testing. "I would hope that in the next five years, wireless monitoring will be the standard in NICUs, but there are many essential validation steps before this technology will be embraced nationally," she says.
Until the new systems are ready, parents will be left struggling with the obstacles that wired monitoring presents.
Physical intimacy, for example, appears to have pain-reducing qualities -- something that is particularly important for babies who are battling serious illness. But wires make those cuddles more challenging.
There's also been minimal discussion about how wired monitoring can be particularly limiting for parents with disabilities and mobility aids, or even C-sections.
"When he was first born and I was recovering from my c-section, I couldn't deal with keeping the wires untangled while trying to sit down without hurting myself," says Rhiannon Giles, a writer from North Carolina, who delivered her son at just over 31 weeks after suffering from severe preeclampsia.
"The wires were awful," she remembers. "They fell off constantly when I shifted positions or he kicked a leg, which meant the monitors would alarm. It felt like an intrusion into the quiet little world I was trying to mentally create for us."
Over the last few years, researchers have begun to dive deeper into the literal and metaphorical challenges of wired monitoring.
For many parents, the wires prompt anxiety that worsens an already tense and vulnerable time.
I'll never forget the first time I got to hold my son without wires. It was the first time that motherhood felt manageable.
"Seeing my five-pound-babies covered in wires from head to toe rendered me completely overwhelmed," recalls Caila Smith, a mom of five from Indiana, whose NICU experience began when her twins were born pre-term. "The nurses seemed to handle them perfectly, but I was scared to touch them while they appeared so medically frail."
During the nine days it took for both twins to come home, the limited access she had to her babies started to impact her mental health. "If we would've had wireless sensors and monitors, it would've given us a much greater sense of freedom and confidence when snuggling our newborns," Smith says.
Besides enabling more natural interactions, wireless monitoring would make basic caregiving tasks much easier, like putting on a onesie.
"One thing I noticed is that many preemie outfits are made with zippers," points out Giles, "which just don't work well when your baby has wires coming off of them, head to toe."
Wired systems can pose issues for medical staff as well as parents.
"The main concern regarding wired systems is that they restrict access to the baby and often get tangled with other equipment, like IV lines," says Lamia Soghier, Medical Director of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Children's National in Washington, D.C , who was also a NICU parent herself. "The nurses have to untangle the wires, which takes time, before handing the baby to the family."
I'll never forget the first time I got to hold my son without wires. It was the first time that motherhood felt manageable, and I couldn't stop myself from crying. Suddenly, anything felt possible and all the limitations from that first week of life seemed to fade away. The rise of wired-free monitoring will make some of the stressors that accompany NICU stays a thing of the past.
This Special Music Helped Preemie Babies’ Brains Develop
Move over, Baby Einstein: New research from Switzerland shows that listening to soothing music in the first weeks of life helps encourage brain development in preterm babies.
For the study, the scientists recruited a harpist and a new-age musician to compose three pieces of music.
The Lowdown
Children who are born prematurely, between 24 and 32 weeks of pregnancy, are far more likely to survive today than they used to be—but because their brains are less developed at birth, they're still at high risk for learning difficulties and emotional disorders later in life.
Researchers in Geneva thought that the unfamiliar and stressful noises in neonatal intensive care units might be partially responsible. After all, a hospital ward filled with alarms, other infants crying, and adults bustling in and out is far more disruptive than the quiet in-utero environment the babies are used to. They decided to test whether listening to pleasant music could have a positive, counterbalancing effect on the babies' brain development.
Led by Dr. Petra Hüppi at the University of Geneva, the scientists recruited Swiss harpist and new-age musician Andreas Vollenweider (who has collaborated with the likes of Carly Simon, Bryan Adams, and Bobby McFerrin). Vollenweider developed three pieces of music specifically for the NICU babies, which were played for them five times per week. Each track was used for specific purposes: To help the baby wake up; to stimulate a baby who was already awake; and to help the baby fall back asleep.
When they reached an age equivalent to a full-term baby, the infants underwent an MRI. The researchers focused on connections within the salience network, which determines how relevant information is, and then processes and acts on it—crucial components of healthy social behavior and emotional regulation. The neural networks of preemies who had listened to Vollenweider's pieces were stronger than preterm babies who had not received the intervention, and were instead much more similar to full-term babies.
Next Up
The first infants in the study are now 6 years old—the age when cognitive problems usually become diagnosable. Researchers plan to follow up with more cognitive and socio-emotional assessments, to determine whether the effects of the music intervention have lasted.
The first infants in the study are now 6 years old—the age when cognitive problems usually become diagnosable.
The scientists note in their paper that, while they saw strong results in the babies' primary auditory cortex and thalamus connections—suggesting that they had developed an ability to recognize and respond to familiar music—there was less reaction in the regions responsible for socioemotional processing. They hypothesize that more time spent listening to music during a NICU stay could improve those connections as well; but another study would be needed to know for sure.
Open Questions
Because this initial study had a fairly small sample size (only 20 preterm infants underwent the musical intervention, with another 19 studied as a control group), and they all listened to the same music for the same amount of time, it's still undetermined whether variations in the type and frequency of music would make a difference. Are Vollenweider's harps, bells, and punji the runaway favorite, or would other styles of music help, too? (Would "Baby Shark" help … or hurt?) There's also a chance that other types of repetitive sounds, like parents speaking or singing to their children, might have similar effects.
But the biggest question is still the one that the scientists plan to tackle next: Whether the intervention lasts as the children grow up. If it does, that's great news for any family with a preemie — and for the baby-sized headphone industry.
Couples Facing Fertility Treatments Should Beware of This
When Jane Stein and her husband used in-vitro fertilization in 2001 to become pregnant with twins, her fertility clinic recommended using a supplemental procedure called intracytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI), known in fertility lingo as "ix-see."
'Add-on' fertility procedures are increasingly coming under scrutiny for having a high cost and low efficacy rate.
During IVF, an egg and sperm are placed in a petri dish together with the hope that a sperm will seek out and fertilize the egg. With ICSI, doctors inject sperm directly into the egg.
Stein, whose name has been changed to protect her privacy, agreed to try it. Her twins are now 16, but while 17 years have gone by since that procedure, the efficacy of ICSI is still unclear. In other words, while Stein succeeded in having children, it may not have been because of ICSI. It may simply have been because she did IVF.
The American Society for Reproductive Medicine has concluded, "There are no data to support the routine use of ICSI for non-male factor infertility." That is, ICSI can help couples have a baby when the issue is male infertility. But when it's not, the evidence of its effectiveness is lacking. And yet the procedure is being used more and more, even when male infertility is not the issue. Some 40 percent of fertility treatments in Europe, Asia and the Middle East now use ICSI, according to a world report released in 2016 by the International Committee for Monitoring Assisted Reproductive Technologies. In the Middle East, the figure is actually 100 percent, the report said.
ICSI is just one of many supplemental procedures, or 'add-ons,' increasingly coming under scrutiny for having a high cost and low efficacy rate. They cost anywhere from a couple of hundred dollars to several thousand – ICSI costs $2,000 to $3,000 -- hiking up the price of what is already a very costly endeavor. And many don't even work. Worse, some actually cause harm.
It's no surprise couples use them. They promise to increase the chance of conceiving. For patients who desperately want a child, money is no object. The Human Fertilization and Embryology Authority (HFEA) in the U.K. found that some 74 percent of patients who received fertility treatments over the last two years were given at least one type of add-on. Now, fertility associations in the U.S. and abroad have begun issuing guidance about which add-ons are worth the extra cost and which are not.
"Many IVF add-ons have little in the way of conclusive evidence supporting their role in successful IVF treatment," said Professor Geeta Nargund, medical director of CREATE Fertility and Lead Consultant for reproductive medicine at St George's Hospital, London.
The HFEA has actually rated these add-ons, indicating which procedures are effective and safe. Some treatments were rated 'red' because they were considered to have insufficient evidence to justify their use. These include assisted hatching, which uses acid or lasers to make a hole in the surrounding layer of proteins to help the embryo hatch; intrauterine culture, where a device is inserted into the womb to collect and incubate the embryo; and reproductive immunology, which suppresses the body's natural immunity so that it accepts the embryo.
"Fertility care is a highly competitive market. In a private system, offering add-ons may discern you from your neighboring clinic."
For some treatments, the HFEA found there is evidence that they don't just fail to work, but can even be harmful. These procedures include ICSI used when male infertility is not at issue, as well as a procedure called endometrial scratching, where the uterus is scratched, not unlike what would happen with a biopsy, to stimulate the local uterine immune system.
And then for some treatments, there is conflicting evidence, warranting further research. These include artificial egg activation by calcium ionophore, elective freezing in all cycles, embryo glue, time-lapse imaging and pre-implantation genetic testing for abnormal chromosomes on day 5.
"Currently, there is very little evidence to suggest that many of the add-ons could increase success rates," Nargund said. "Indeed, the HFEA's assessment of add-on treatments concluded that none of the add-ons could be given a 'green' rating, due to a lack of conclusive supporting research."
So why do fertility clinics offer them?
"Fertility care is a highly competitive market," said Professor Hans Evers, editor-in-chief of the journal Human Reproduction. "In a private system, offering add-ons may discern you from your neighboring clinic. The more competition, the more add-ons. Hopefully the more reputable institutions will only offer add-ons (for free) in the context of a randomized clinical trial."
The only way for infertile couples to know which work and which don't is the guidance released by professional organizations like the ASRM, and through government regulation in countries that have a public health care system.
The problem is, infertile couples will sometimes do anything to achieve a pregnancy.
"They will stand on their heads if this is advocated as helpful. Someone has to protect them," Evers said.
In the Netherlands, where Evers is based, the national health care system tries to make the best use of the limited resources it has, so it makes sure the procedures it's funding actually work, Evers said.
"We have calculated that to serve a population of 17 million, we need 13 IVF clinics, and we have 13," he said. "We as professionals discuss and try to agree on the value of newly proposed add-ons, and we will implement only those that are proven effective and safe."
Likewise, in the U.K., there's been a lot of squawking about speculative add-ons because the government, or National Health Service, pays for them. In the U.S., it's private insurers or patients' own cash.
"The [U.K.] government takes a very close look at what therapies they are offering and what the evidence is around offering the therapy," said Alan Penzias, who chairs the Practice Committee of the ASRM. It wants to make sure the treatments it is funding are at least worth the money.
ICSI is a case in point. Originally intended for male infertility, it's now being applied across the board because fertility clinics didn't want couples to pay $10,000 to $15,000 and wind up with no embryos.
"It is so disastrous to have no fertilization whatsoever, clinics started to make this bargain with their patients, saying, 'Well, listen, even though it's not indicated, what we would like to do is to take half of your eggs and do the ICSI procedure, and half we'll do conventional insemination just to make sure,'" he said. "It's a disaster if you have no embryos, and now you're out 10 to 12 thousand dollars, so for a small added fee, we can do the injection just to guard against that."
In the Netherlands, the national health care system tries to make the best use of its limited resources, so it makes sure the procedures it's funding actually work.
Clinics offer it where they see lower rates of fertilization, such as with older women or in cases where induced ovulation results in just two or three eggs instead of, say, 13. Unfortunately, ICSI may result in a higher fertilization rate, but it doesn't result in a higher live birth rate, according to a study last year in Human Reproduction, so couples wind up paying for a procedure that doesn't even result in a child.
Private insurers in the U.S. are keen to it. Penzia, who is also an associate professor of obstetrics, gynecology and reproductive biology at Harvard Medical School and works as a reproductive endocrinology and infertility specialist at Boston IVF, said Massachusetts requires that insurers cover infertility treatments. But when he submits claims for ICSI, for instance, insurers now want to see two sperm counts and proof that the man has seen a urologist.
"They want to make sure we're doing it for male factor (infertility)," he said. "That's not unreasonable, because the insurance company is taking the burden of this."