Fright Night & Our Gift

I'm not a Mom who lets things go.  I notice right away if one of my kids is feeling off and have a great relationship with the nurses at Dr. Mommy Love's office.  I call them with questions and concerns frequently and love knowing them all on a first name basis.  I also love that they know my children on a first name basis and love my  children.

Saturday night Bro wasn't feeling great.  He is 4 1/2 months old (yes I'm a bit late in posting his 4 month letter, I know) so he got some Tylenol, 1 ml of benadryl and a breathing treatment.  He wasn't even that wheezy.  But somehow I knew he needed it.

At 11pm he started gasping for air.  Not the type of gasping where I needed to put him in the bathroom with steam or open the freezer door.  The type of gasping where I put him in his car seat and raced to the ER.  I didn't even put on clothes.  I was in my jammies.    Just my nightgown.  There wasn't time.  Daddy P couldnt' come with me.  G & K were sleeping and instinctively I knew we couldn't wait for Grampy to get here.  I wasn't panicked, I wasn't thinking about what could happen, or what would happen, I was 100% focused on getting him to the hospital.

I walked into the ER doors, and quickly, but calmly, went to the check in desk.

"My baby is having trouble breathing"

I didn't have to check in, didn't have to fill out any paper work, nothing.  A nurse took Bro from my arms, and immediately took me to the back.  There were no private rooms, so we were put into room with 2 others, just a curtain separating the beds.  Things went quickly from there.  Bro went from bad to worse.  He was given oral steroids and 2 special breathing treatments.  We were never left alone.  There was always a nurse, respiratory therapist or Doctor (and frequently all 3) with us. 

I don't remember a lot from my time working with medically fragile children, but I do know that a reading of 48 on a pulse ox machine is not good.  Bro's feet turned purple.  Daddy P got there and had to hold Bro.  I still wasn't grasping the severity of the situation.  Just breathing to get through each minute.  At first we were told we would be there for 3-4 hours, then we were going to be admitted, and then finally told we were going to be transferred to the Children's Hospital....over an hour away.  People say time stands still, but for me everything was going in fast forward. 

We made it to the Children's hospital in 45 minutes.  Daddy P driving behind us in the minivan, me in the ambulance with Bro.  At first we were going to wait for an ambulance from the Children's Hospital to come to us, but then the Drs decided there was no time, so off we went.  Sirens blaring & lights flashing.  I'm still amazed at how calm I was.

Bro received several more breathing treatments and oral medications was able to be taken off the oxygen he was on and admitted to the hospital. 

He's still not himself, but he's home, with us.

Now, that's it's night, that everyone here is sleeping, it's hitting me.  People don't go to the ER expecting their child to die, but it happens.  Our situation could have very easily gone the other way.  Bro could have died.  I've read blogs where that has happened.  In hind sight I can see that even the Doctor's, nurses and RT's were worried.  They NEVER left us.

Life is a precious gift.  After a week filled with tantrums--by both the girls AND Mommy, I was given a reminder of just how precious it is.