Monday, November 23, 2009

Doing something stupid....

I'm remembering.

Two years ago today, both my new born baby boys were happily snuggled into bassinets at OSMH's NICU. If we went back in time and watched this day play out two years ago, we would see Everett's downward spiral. We would see a nurse notice a change in his breathing, we would see her move a little quicker then she had the rest of the day, and take out her stethascope and listen a little harder then usual. We'd see them move Everett from the bassinet to the isolette and see her make a call to the Dr. We'd see him struggle more and more for breath, we'd see his little chest heave and we'd see him use all his accessory muscles to draw sufficient breath. We'd see his color change too, and we'd see nursery staff making accommodations for what they knew what was coming, and we didn't.

We'd see the Dr. arrive and take two terrified parents aside into a quite room and explain what was happening, you'd hear talk of a suspected heart defect (not the one he actually had) and we'd see a helicopter transport team from Sick Kids arrive. You'd see Everett crash, badly. You'd see staff scramble to secure IV lines and you'd see him packed into his little transport device, and then we would be gone.

You'd see a frantic phone call made to supportive grandparents. You'd see a terrified Grandmother trying to be strong for her daughter make another frantic phone call to a sister more then an hour away, making a pleading request for her help. You'd see that sister say goodbye to her husband and kids and bundle up and make the drive to Orillia to help her brother and his wife get to Sick Kids to be with their desperately ill baby. You'd see shattered people in limbo, not knowing what was to come. You'd see tears and you'd hear sobbing and you'd see eyes staring out into space, totally in shock, totally blindsided by what has transpired.

You'd see helpless family members at home in the middle of the night laying awake thinking about Everett and about us and you'd hear praying, both silent and out loud, from believers and non believers alike.

You'd see pacing, and worried faces and nail biting and heart ache, if you went back two years ago today.

And still it would not be as bad as could and would get. You'd see a baby with a chest in tact. You'd see a baby breathing on his own. You'd see a baby with 10 perfect and kissable toes. And this is not what you would see a week later.

Remembering is nearly as painful as experiencing it as it happened.

I hate this time of year because I just feel like I'm walking through the nightmare all over again.

My memories bring me closer to the pain but not to my baby, but I can't help myself at all.

Life all around me is a constant reminder and irritant, just picking at the wound and making it ache all over again.


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