On Almost Losing a Child...

Last night, as the girls (myself, my mother, Lilee, Michelle (mom's friend), and her daughter Grace) were on our way to dinner, I had a nervous feeling of disaster. It struck me so hard that the stop sign ahead of us came quickly and unexpectedly, despite the fact that I have approached it many times. There was just such a feeling of dread that came over me, and it stuck with me into the late hours of night until I went to sleep about 1AM. All of the girls were fine, so my feelings must have been unfounded... I had no idea that my feelings were a premonition of things soon to happen back at home.

I awoke this morning at 4:30 in my parents cabin to the loud ringing of the phone. Patrick had just returned from Northside Hospital Forsyth with the boys. I could tell from his voice he was both weary and emotional as he told me that Holt had been rushed to the emergency room with something lodged in his throat.

It took several conversations and some much needed sleep to get all the details, but Holt had woken up at some time in the night and decided to play alone in the playroom. Though not normally a child to put things in his mouth, he had decided to put a miniature action figure of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle between his chompers. Something must have gone terribly wrong, because he made it down the stairs, a trail of bile following him, with the toy lodged deep in his throat. He was able to get to our bedroom (it was about 2AM) where Patrick woke to sounds of gasping and gurgling.

Holt could not respond to Patrick's questions but was breathing and, in a panic, Patrick threw him and Daegan in the car and rushed to Northside Forsyth about six minutes away. I wasn't there, but I can only imagine the scene as it unfolded: doctors took Holt into an emergency room and held him down to a gurney as he thrashed, gasping for air and afraid while they encircled his little body. Daegan screamed for his brother, afraid the doctors were hurting, not helping him. Patrick was forced to remove Daegan from the frantic scene, thus removing himself from Holt's side. When he got into the quiet of the ER corridor and in realization of the great helplessness one feels in situations such as these, Patrick threw up; the emotion was too much.

Within minutes Master Splinter was removed and Holt was breathing once again. He was kept for a few hours of observation and fell asleep not long after the sensei was removed. (Wish we could say the same for daddy and mommy!)

Patrick and I have always been acutely grateful for the lives of each of our children. So much so that I have often (perhaps arrogantly) thought ourselves more sensitive than many other parents to the fact that we don't deserve our children and thus the weight of the responsibility for their care bears heavily on our hearts. But, grateful has taken on new meaning today. Today, we understand through experience what it is like to almost lose a child.