At 16 months old, Talia Mutai experiments with independence, placing one foot in front of the other while clinging tightly to her mother’s fingers. The activity produces so much glee that Talia wants to repeat it again and again.

Her mom, Mary Mutai, operates on as much energy as baby Talia.

Whether she’s working as an information technology quality-assurance analyst, reporting for duty with the Air Force Reserves, cooking meals, or playing with her three children, Mary’s energy and love infuse the home of the family of five and the lives of others who enter her sphere.

“She’s a happy one,” Mary says, gazing at Talia.

The baby also enjoys listening to children’s music and animated shows, eating a cornucopia of food and grabbing the attention of two older siblings.

Her sister, 8-year-old sister Isabelle can change a wet, but not poopy, diaper, and 4-year-old Evans Kigen, known as “KiKi,” can’t wait until he’s old enough to go to school.

Included in their prayers this Thanksgiving, Mary, her husband Daniel, and the extended Mutai family will express their gratitude for Talia’s advancements and the fact that she is at the table to share in the bounty.

To anyone who meets Talia, she appears to be a happy, well-adjusted baby, making strides on shedding infancy and barreling into toddlerhood.

To her parents, their Kenyan relatives, church and work friends, and doctors and nurses who are familiar with Talia’s journey, the child is nothing short of a miracle.

“I’m still surprised,” Daniel said. “She plays, she crawls, she’s growing and is more confident. I don’t have to worry anymore. It is a miracle.”

Talia is one of the smallest babies born in Colorado Springs to survive, let alone thrive, said Dr. Robert Kiley, a neonatal and perinatal specialist at Children’s Hospital Colorado in Colorado Springs.

Talia had a 20% chance of initial survival when she was born July 12, 2023, at a gestational age of 23 weeks and one day and weighing 435 grams — less than one pound.

“She’s one of the smallest three babies we’ve had over the last 18 years I’ve been here,” Kiley said.

The screams of an attending doctor and then those of Mary could be heard before Talia could utter a wail after being delivered by cesarean section at Memorial Hospital North, with what Mary said were at least 10 medical professionals in the room.

The attending doctor expressed anguish after discovering nearly all of the amniotic fluid had leaked out of Mary’s uterus, putting the baby in grave peril and necessitating immediate birth.

Mary had started bleeding periodically at 18 weeks into the pregnancy, and she said doctors could not figure out what was wrong. They would later determine that the placenta had ruptured from the top of the uterus, causing bloody discharge.

For five weeks, Mary was in and out of the doctor’s office and emergency rooms and finally was placed on bedrest.

But Talia was impatient to leave the womb, which was increasingly becoming an unsafe environment.

Daniel, an information technology specialist with a defense contractor and Army veteran who had been stationed at Fort Carson, made it to the operating room just in time to see his third child extricated from Mary’s belly.

“I was in so much pain because of all the hands in my stomach,” Mary said.

Talia had to be slowly maneuvered into a position where doctors could gently lift her out.

Then the baby was immediately whisked to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, or NICU, through a connecting hallway from Memorial Hospital North to Children’s Hospital Colorado in Colorado Springs.

When Mary saw the baby for the first time in the NICU, she screamed. Talia’s body was as long as the distance between Mary’s fingertips and her wrist.

“She didn’t look like a baby. She looked like how a puppy when it’s first born, with its eyes closed and unfinished. Her whole leg was as big as my pinky finger.”

Mary watched as nurses tried to move Talia.

“It was hurting me so much to see that, I just kept screaming,” Mary said.

Nearly three hours later, the baby was stable.

Overcoming overwhelming odds

Talia faced overwhelming odds from the moment she entered the world.

Her life teetered on the edge of heaven and earth during what Kiley called the “tenuous and critical” first few weeks in the NICU.

Inside the advanced medical unit, the next breath is not guaranteed for tiny, sick babies who arrive in an unfinished state.

“There was one nurse that said every morning and at shift change the first thing they would do is look for Talia’s name on the board because of how critical she was,” Mary said. “It was that bad.”

Connected to technologically advanced equipment that breathes, supplies nutrients and otherwise keeps the minuscule systems functioning, premature babies complete their gestation in isolette incubators and rooms that simulate conditions of the womb.

Later that night after Talia was born, a nurse ran into Mary’s room in Memorial Hospital where she was recuperating.

She told Mary to get in a wheelchair, and they hightailed it to Children’s NICU.

“The baby was dying,” Mary said. “That bridge between the hospitals felt like forever.”

Medical workers had called code blue on Talia.

Mary sobbed, prayed and screamed outside Talia’s room, where they were working on her.

“Their posture was like it was done,” Mary said. “The doctor came and sat with me and said we have tried, the baby is struggling. I don’t think the baby can handle it.”

Talia had several physical issues, Kiley said. Her lungs were not fully formed and had collapsed.

“They wanted to take the baby out of the incubator so I could hold her, but I said I’m not doing that. I’m not giving up on her,” Mary said.

“I said, ‘You take care of today, God will take care of tomorrow.’”

Mary said the doctor looked at her like, “What are you talking about — like the doctor was talking about science, not faith. I said, ‘That’s OK, as long as you’re still trying.’”

Hours passed.

Mary turned to Daniel and said, “Do you think the doctor was right?”

The doctor came out again and told her they could try a different ventilator.

“I said, ‘What are we waiting for?’” Mary said.

The new machine stabilized Talia, but her path to recovery still wasn’t smooth.

Medical attendants also had problems accessing Talia’s veins and arteries to monitor her condition and deliver life-saving fluids.

“It was technically challenging because these blood vessels are the size of the smallest piece of wire you could imagine,” Kiley said.

After exhausting arms, legs, head and belly button for routes, tedious bedside surgery solved the problem.

“She was incredibly sick at birth and was definitely the smallest baby I’ve ever seen a surgeon put a line in to get fluid into her veins,” Kiley said.

Little bodies are at risk of needing intervention because they are susceptible to infection, brain bleeds, eye problems and feeding issues due to premature development of the intestinal system, the doctor said.

It requires a large multi-disciplinary team to attend to a very small infant, Kiley said, including doctors and nurses, respiratory therapists, advanced practice providers, surgeons and support staff.

“They have to be available 24/7, and for babies this small we double up the nursing staff on them,” Kiley said.

“Although they’re tiny, they take a lot of pumps, fluids and drips, and the calculations have to be really specific. You can’t mess anything up because the littlest thing you do to these tiny babies could have devastating consequences.”

Mary and Daniel said they could feel the prayers of family and friends spiritually lifting them up through the unthinkable time. And deliveries of homecooked meals, often with familiar dishes infused with spices common to the couple’s native homeland of Kenya, sustained their weary bodies.

“It’s like you don’t expect what’s going to happen,” Daniel said. “Then you’re waiting to see what will happen.”

Coping with the sudden change of elation turning to despair when things go sideways was hard, he said.

“You pray, you hope, you wait,” Daniel said. “Your life is not like everyday life, where you can overcome things if you focus and do what is right or expected of you. We relied on support and prayer and the contributions of others.”

Positive attitude prevails

And now, Daniel said, Talia is a blessing that brings joy and happiness.

She was released from Children’s Hospital on Nov. 29, 2023, at five months old and weighing about five pounds, Mary said. Talia needed oxygen at home for another four months.

She’s left with just one apparent health issue that soon will be remedied. Eye surgery in January will strengthen muscles that did not develop from being too weak from the onset, Mary said.

As a mother, Mary said she can tell Talia is making developmental and mental strides in addition to physical achievements.

“She may be four months early, but she’s truly not four months late,” Mary said. “She has no delays in eating or playing — and that’s how I keep track.

“She recognizes people she knows, she reacts to something scary she sees on TV. Such milestones help me understand that as much as she’s a preemie, she really understands her environment.”

That part of Talia’s tale is also astounding. For infants her size and gestational age who make it, a large percentage have “significant ongoing medical issues throughout their life,” Kiley said.

Talia’s parents frequently use the word “miracle.” So do co-workers.

“It’s amazing, it really is like a miracle,” said Air Force Col. Matt Grimes. “I’ve never heard of a NICU patient that age that survived. It makes me happy inside thinking about this story.”

As the former commander of the 34th Aeromedical Evacuation Squadron, which is based out of the 302nd Airlift Wing at Peterson Space Force Base, Grimes had been Mary’s boss in her role in the Air Force Reserves.

The squadron is like a family, he said, and nearly all of the 95 members rallied around Mary and Daniel in their time of need, visiting and forming a meals team.

“Mary is one of my favorite people,” said Grimes, who lives in Minnesota. “Her attitude is amazing.”

Kiley thinks that Mary’s optimistic nature no doubt helped baby Talia overcome her struggles.

“The NICU course is a rollercoaster ride these parents go through,” the doctor said. “There are really hard days and some less hard days.”

Chief Master Sgt. Diem Villanueva, who worked with Mary at Peterson Space Force Base and now lives in Utah, said the Mutais are the most resilient family she’s ever met.

“The way they pulled through and never lost any kind of faith and belief that the child was going to make it was incredible,” she said. “The child was a fighter from day one.”

Villanueva said she could see the pain daily on the couple’s faces, not knowing whether they were ever going to be able to bring their baby home.

“And yet they remained positive,” she said. “I told them you know who’s going to be the boss of the family, and Mary said she (Talia) already is.”

Talia means “God’s dew” in Hebrew. The couple chose that name for their precious baby because Mary believes it signifies God’s blessings.

“Whether there’s rain or no rain, there will be water or dew on the grass in the morning,” she said. “So, God’s blessings will be there all the time.”