Support Heidi and Chris After Medical Emergency

Hi, my name is Annalee. I have created this Go Fund Me campaign to help some of the best people, Heidi & Chris, that I know. The funds being raised will help them get their feet back under them after a surreal and terrifying experience they had birthing their very first child on February 1st of this year. Trust me when I tell you that their story unfolded like a horror movie. I wouldn’t believe it, but I was there. I experienced it alongside these beautiful people, and I feel compelled to do more to help them. After all, they were a catalyst to me building my beautiful life in Mexico City, and I am eternally grateful for everything they have done for me. This is the least I can do for them.

If you know Heidi or Chris, you know they pride themselves on their independence. They are a collaborative couple who love to create value in the lives of others and aren’t ones to ask for help or handouts. Both are much more comfortable coming to the service of their friends and community. If they see someone’s struggle they lend a hand, they host community events, and relish the opportunity to help even strangers achieve their dreams. These are the type of people who take your investment in them and pay you back in multiples. So I ask you with the deepest sense of gratitude to please consider reading the story below and donating whatever you feel compelled to help them move on and continue building their beautiful life.

*******************The Story********************

Hi! My name is Chris Alaniz, and I’m a proud, brand-new father along with my partner and love, Heidi Roy. For the last two years, we have built a beautiful life together here in Mexico City. As social entrepreneurs, we value community first and foremost and have successfully created businesses pertaining to our individual passions: pickleball for me and supper clubs for Heidi, involving deep meaningful conversation and raw human connection and plant-based compassionate food. In doing so we have created and are so grateful to the unmatched coalition of our “framily” (family of friends) who have supported us through our journey to parenthood in our chosen country away from “home.”

Eagerly awaiting our first child, we had undoubtedly been dreaming of this day. It is surreal how 10 months of planning and preparing ultimately comes down to one day at the hospital that will change your life forever. Up until our 39th week, we had everything planned for a magical natural birth experience with a stellar team and tight-knit community supporting us along the way. Heading into week 40, however, Heidi’s amniotic fluid levels dropped extremely low, and we were faced with the decision to intervene and induce labor. While not in our birth plan, we were still thrilled to welcome our baby girl, Arwen, into our family. What we didn’t know is that on this day and the days to follow, an unimaginable turn of events was about to transpire.

On the morning of Feb. 1, 2025, we checked into Hospital Angeles Santa Mónica in the Polanco neighborhood and set up our cozy birthing room, complete with galaxy star lighting, healing music, and our creature comforts. We began the process, and Heidi championed through 10 hours of labor with increasing contractions. Discouragingly, and like so many women who are induced, no dilation progressed. Through the process of induction and waiting, baby Arwen’s heart rate began to decline, and we were faced with another decision that was outside of our birth plan. Up until this time, an emergency C-section seemed the worst-case scenario, and here we were now faced with that decision.

While having the conversation of what to do next, within minutes, Heidi’s condition dramatically worsened, and her body ended up deciding for us. Her pain levels tripled, and what had been 10 hours of fairly peaceful birth experience quickly escalated to being rushed into the operating room.

Once we arrived, with no time to waste, the epidural was injected but was not responding quickly enough. Due to the urgency of the situation, the surgeon couldn't wait, and Heidi felt the surgeon slice into her as she began the cesarean. Heidi became panicked, screaming in excruciating pain, and there was nothing I could do to help her. They continued to pump her full of anesthesia but her body was not responding, and extreme measures needed to be taken so she didn’t feel every bit of this, sometimes very dangerous, surgery.

“She has to be asleep!” was the last thing Heidi heard from the surgeon before the mask was placed over her sobbing, distraught face to sedate her. Within seconds, she went limp.

A few minutes later, our beautiful baby girl was delivered. Arwen entered the world in the final hour of February 1. I was so grateful she came into the world as a healthy baby girl weighing in at 7lbs 6oz, 21 inches long, 10 tiny fingers, 10 sweet little toes, and the most angelic little smile that beams right into my soul. It was the most joy I have ever felt... juxtaposed with the reality of her mother, the love of my life, lying unconscious in front me. Unfortunately for us, the nightmare continued.

While the hospital staff were tending to baby Arwen, Heidi began reacting negatively to the anesthesia and convulsing, causing her to vomit and subsequently inhale. For all of the non-medical professionals here, inhaling ANY liquid into your lungs is dangerous, let alone vomit. As emotions were at an all-time high, I was quickly dismissed from the OR as I watched the medical staff shove a breathing tube down Heidi’s throat. I was then placed into the waiting area with no answers on what was happening to my baby girl while they fought to save Heidi’s life.

Heidi was crashing and needed to be rushed to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) with massive complications in her lungs.. To the dismay of our doctors and us, the private hospital we had so carefully chosen had misled us during the “sales process” about their ICU capabilities. They didn’t have any staff on duty that evening! So, the next step was for Heidi to be immediately transferred to another hospital (across the city). This required two ambulance rides to transfer both mother and baby separately, costing hours of critical time. I honestly don’t even remember many of the details during this time, I was in survival mode trying to care for Heidi and Arwen. I am now scarred for life, having to live through these moments, and I know I will need to seek help to remove these images that are burned into my brain.

After the transfer, they were able to stabilize Heidi by keeping her in an induced coma to regulate her blood pressure, an intubation to breathe for her, and a whole suite of meds delivered to her directly through a new dock in her neck. Seeing Heidi hooked up to all of this machinery to keep her alive was devastating. During this time, I was left to take care of our baby girl without her mother and slip into a dark mental place where I was to live my life and raise our baby girl without her.

We would receive small but promising news every few hours. The doctors and staff at the hospital were very loving and kind. And the facilities were top of the line. I could only see Heidi and speak to her (without response) twice. The rest of the time was spent just waiting and wondering. It was the longest 24 hours of my life. I am so fortunate that the beautiful community we have so intentionally built here in Mexico City rallied hard and showed up for me so quickly. I was never alone; I was fed, I was held, and I was consoled. While I was living in survival mode, they were all enacting an emergency support plan. Without that support, I am unsure where my mental state would have drifted.

Heidi eventually stabilized, and the doctors were able to slowly wake her up and remove the intubation tubes. Having no idea what happened to her, Heidi had to wait alone in the ICU for the next 12 hours until she could be moved from the ICU to her own room. Visitor hours were over, and although we both speak Spanish, it’s not our native tongue, and medical terms are not our strength. Eventually, we were able to pass notes to her through the staff from the waiting room. That small act gave her life, strength to heal, and information on her baby girl she was agonizingly dying to meet.

Finally, 36 hours after her birth, she was moved out of the ICU and able to meet our precious baby girl for the very first time. It was in this super emotional moment that I thought my nightmare was over and my little family could go on living our happy life together. I had practically no sleep for the last 48 hours and was an emotional wreck, but we had each other, and we were all going to be OK. Contrary to my hopes for a smooth return home, the nightmare continued.

This time, it wasn’t a medical nightmare; it was bureaucracy and administration. In Mexico, you are responsible for paying the ENTIRE hospital bill upon leaving. For us, this included emergency cesarean surgery, transfer to a different hospital in 2 ambulances, four days in ICU for Heidi, a long list of unexpected medications, and additional care for Arwen.

What was originally going to cost our family $5,000 USD out of pocket was now a bill for $30,000 USD and climbing. I had budgeted a safety net for unexpected expenses and would have spent millions to save Heidi’s life if that's what it took, but the reality is, this bill had the potential to financially sink my family. Upon closer look at the bill, it became abundantly clear that the hospital was trying to take advantage of us and our extremely fragile state. There were drugs and services we never received, the original hospital was still charging us for full care even though they screwed up and we had to be transferred. It was an absolute mess, and when we were finally cleared to leave the hospital on Feb. 5, we were elated to go home, albeit stressed by the immediate financial situation that needed to be resolved to leave.

Making matters EVEN worse, while reviewing and paying our bill and negotiating through the unfounded charges, we sent baby Arwen to do some final tests in the NICU before we were discharged. During this time, I had to leave Heidi alone in her fragile state and journey back to the original hospital to fight the incorrect bill. When I finally returned, over 3 hours later, there was no baby in our hospital room. When I called the front desk, the hospital staff coldly stated, “You cannot have your baby until your bill is paid in full.”

Fumes blew out my ears, and my paternal instincts kicked in like crazy at this moment, but I did my best to remain calm. I was desperate to get my baby back, exactly what they wanted, and I would do anything. Despite our making formal requests that they did not have authorization to keep our newborn (some would define this as kidnapping for ransom), they fought us for the next 4 hours while holding our baby as a bargaining chip to extract money from us. Eventually, once we threatened to get the authorities involved, the hospital returned Arwen to our care. However, we were still forced to pay the $30,000 before walking out the door.

To be in a position where my family and I need so much support and assistance is very foreign to me. While my instinct is to take on this battle alone, I know that is not what is going to get us to a place of peace. If there is ever a time in my life where I have to put my ego aside, it is now. For anyone who has read our story and lives near or far and feels so inclined to help us, our goal is to raise $20,000 to help our family pay off this unexpected medical debt and growing lawyer fees so that we may return to life as normal to raise our daughter in peace. In the rare case we raise over our goal, we are committed to reinvesting that money to a cause to help future parents who have been put into a similar situation and have a lot less at their disposal.

We thank you for taking the time to read our story and should you choose to help, every dollar will have a multiplied effect of help for our family. Thank you for your care and for any contribution made. We appreciate whatever love you can give.

With deep gratitude,

Chris , Heidi, baby Arwen, and Frida

To our local community in Mexico City: we have no words to express our gratitude and the way you have shown up for us already. We look forward to putting this series of events and stack of debt behind us: A life-and-death close call that took what we hoped to be a beautiful moment and transformed it into the most traumatic experience of our lives.