Oh where do I even begin? Where does one start to write down their feelings about the day they thought they were going to lose their little boy? I guess from the beginning..
Soren was breathing on his own before the paramedics arrived (they were here within two minutes of me getting off the phone with the operator), but he was still very calm and lethargic (which you know he is NEVER still). He didn't fight them at all or grab at anything while they were checking his vitals which seemed strange to me. All of his vitals were good, but they recommended I take him to Plano Presbyterian ER to get more thoroughly checked. Having the paramedics here was both calming and nervewracking. Calming because I knew they could take care of Soren. Nervewracking because there were SIX of them, it felt extremely overwhelming. I am so grateful that he was breathing on his own when they got here. I don't think I could have handled watching them try to recessitate my baby. I can't even begin to say how grateful I am that I was right next to him when this happened. He will often wander around the house and play by himself in different rooms and I will go check on him every few minutes if I haven't heard or seen him. I cannot imagine what may have happened if this had happened when he was by himself somewhere in the house.
I opted to drive Soren to the hospital myself instead of riding in the ambulance because he seemed to be coming around. He fell asleep as soon as he got in his carseat and stayed asleep through much of the admissions process. I carried him in sleeping on my shoulder and told them what had happened. He was moved to the top of the priority list and we were taken in right away. After checking his vitals, hearing the story of what happened, and getting his height and weight the nurse took us to a room to wait for the doctor. The doctor came in, where I again told the story of what had happened. He then ordered a chest x-ray, blood work, and a heart EKG. Everything came back normal.
When they said they were going to draw blood, I assumed it would be a simple heel prick, no they put the needle in his hand like they would for an adult. I know that there are many parents that have to watch their children go through much worse, but for me, watching them draw blood was nearly unbearable. They had to wrap him up in a sheet so he couldn't kick and then me and another nurse had to hold him down while they drew the blood. He of course was screaming the whole time and all I could do was talk to him and kiss his forehead while I cried. Luckily, he recovered quicker than I did. They kept a saline lock on him so that they wouldn't have to poke him again if they needed more blood or if they needed to give him any meds.
So, as I said, all of the tests came back normal. The ER doctor then called Soren's pediatrician to let him know what was going on and ask what he wanted done next. He ordered an overnight monitoring. So we waited for about an hour while they got his room ready. (I was in the ER with Soren by myself because Richard asked if I wanted him to come home and be with us, but I honestly thought we would be home by the time he would be able to get up there.) So we got up to the room, met the nurses and the new doctor (told the story once again). He got hooked up to a machine to monitor the oxygen levels in his blood. Richard got to the hospital with dinner around 7:00 and I was so grateful, I was starving! Soren had been sleeping but woke up a few minutes after Richard got there and we gave him some dinner and he went right back to sleep. The poor baby was so tired, this whole ordeal happened right before nap time so he did not get his nap. I slept much better being in the hospital, knowing that he was being monitored in case something happened. I prayed before bed that if something was wrong it would happen in the hospital so that the doctors could find the problem. Soren's oxygen and heartbeat rates were steady and healthy through the night.
We got discharged at about 10:15 this morning and Soren was asleep as soon as he got in his carseat and slept until 12:30, he was sooo tired, it had been a very long 20 hours.
I am so grateful for my little boy. Loving him is such a natural feeling, that sometimes I catch myself wondering if I don't love him as much as I should (stupid mom thought, I know), but after yesterday I know that even though it is a natural feeling, it is still an overwhelming love. I did not think he was dying when he turned blue yesterday, I thought he was already dead. The panic and hysteria that set in at that moment was more than I have ever felt in my life. I now understand why 911 calls always sound so chaotic...they are. I couldn't even think straight let alone talk. Luckily he started breathing again while I was on the phone so I was able to calm down a little and speak clearly.
All yesterday as I had to recount the story over and over again I could not get the horrible image out of my head and I was living in fear that I would forever have to have that image of my little boy in my head. But thankfully, Heavenly Father has blessed me and I am quickly forgetting what he looked like in that moment. Even if I try to picture, I can't really. I consider that such a huge blessing. I can move forward and not be haunted by that image. I can just see my beautiful, healthy little boy.
