A Day of Terror, A Cause for Celebration

I knew today was going to be a difficult day emotionally, as it was one year ago exactly that we rushed Annabel to the ER in respiratory distress.  She had been crying and fussy all day, which during that time period was not unusual, but this time something was different. We all went to bed, she in her bassinet beside me, and tried to sleep.  She was on oxygen and the sat monitor kept going off.  The reading kept going lower and lower until it was in the 70's, then 60's. I checked the connections because this had happened before and one of the tubes had become disconnected.  But no, everything was working fine.  She continued to cry and was inconsolable. I woke Rusty and told him I was taking her to the ER.  He got up and we headed to Vanderbilt, him driving (at Nascar speed it seemed) and me in the back seat with her.

On the way there her sats dropped down into the 50's. I kept turning up the oxygen, none of us realizing that the very thing that was supposed to be helping her was actually having an adverse effect and was drowning her instead.

I remember doing a lot of praying and felt a fear I had not felt in a very long time - terror.  I evidently posted a message to my Facebook family and friends - "Rushing Annabel to ER - please pray!!!!" because that's what came up on my Timehop today.

In the ER on June 8, 2013 after they got her stabilized

They made me stop at the security checkpoint to examine the diaper bag, but Annabel and Rusty were rushed back into a room.  A kind woman helped me find the room, and when I walked in my heart just about stopped. There were at least a dozen people in the room, all hovered over my baby working on her. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and couldn't take my eyes off my daughter, lying there so tiny on that huge bed. A man, I'm not sure what part of the medical team he was, ushered me into a chair to the front right of the room where I sat, still clutching the diaper bag as a lifeline, as the continued to work on her.

I had felt terror like this only one other time in my life - during a home invasion on Halloween night when I was a sophomore in high school.  I have not been a fan of Halloween since, just as I have feared the impending June 8 this year.

Most of you know the rest of the story - we spent the next 34 days in the PICU on a Vapotherm machine awaiting heart surgery, then another 25 days recovering from said heart surgery and the complications Annabel had from that. That in itself is a story that I often wish I had better documented, and then other times would like to forget, as it came with its own frustrations and close-call events.

I have been dreading this anniversary, dreading the emotions that I knew would come with it. I am sitting here with my laptop in the living room, watching Annabel, who is sitting in front of me in her monkey chair watching BabyTV as she holds the syringe we flush her feeding tube with.  She has taken possession of two things - that syringe and my hairbrush, claiming them as her own, and will hold onto them for hours at a time, even through naps in her swing.  She turns around and grins at me, her glasses down around her neck.  I stand up to fix them and she grins again and reaches up for me wanting a hug and kiss on the forehead, our routine when I fix her glasses for the umpteenth time each day.  Her curly bedhead makes me smile, and I think about that beautiful baby with the big blue eyes, so tiny and fragile a year ago who endured more than anyone should have to endure, but today is a healthy and incredibly happy almost 15-month-old who has come so very far. I am so thankful she will not remember the events of the past year.  Some day, when she is old enough to understand, she will be amazed by her first year of life - the surgeries, the hospitals stays, all the tubes and medical equipment.  Some day she will know why she's my little superhero, why I hold her so tightly and smother her with kisses, why I tell her constantly how much I love her, how proud I am of her accomplishments, how lucky I am to be her mommy, why I am so fiercely protective of her.
  

On Memorial Day, 2014

In looking at my Timehop app I am also surprised to discover that today also holds another anniversary, for two years ago I also finished writing Around the World and Back Again.  Sometimes in life you are given wake-up reminders, and this was mine. This is a day to be celebrated, not feared! One year has changed everything - my child is healthy and I no longer sleep with her beside my bed with my hand on her body all night to make sure she is still breathing. I no longer fear that each day might be her last.  If I want to I can buy clothes for her months in advance, because I know she will be around to wear them. I can take her to a routine doctor's appointment without constant fear that she will be admitted into the hospital. I can let them check her sats when she goes into the hospital for her routine sedated eye pressure exams and know that they are going to be above 95. Of course I always hold my breath while the numbers climb, and don't let it out until it hits the high 90's, but in my heart I know it will get there.  And finally, I can remove my little hospital essentials bag from the diaper bag, which I have carried around for over a year now.

July 11 will hold another special day - heart surgery - but once again I will celebrate and rejoice in how far Annabel has come, and how happy and stress-free life is these days.  I will enjoy these anniversaries and think of them as an occasion to give thanks for this incredible gift I have been given - this little girl I waited all my life for, who holds my heart in one chubby little hand (and her syringe or my hairbrush in the other ;-) )

Have a great weekend everyone!

Much love,
Anne-Marie