Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I cried again this morning...
Who would have thought I could even have more tears?
The fountain should have run dry long ago...
Another nightmare.
5 am.
I woke disturbed.
Couldn't shake that dreadful feeling.
The burning in my throat.
The one I try to blink back, back, back behind my eyelids.
That haunting emptiness that lingers underneath your gut,
threatening to overturn you.
Sleep was not a ready rescue or a willing ally.
.
I dressed for the gym, thinking I could outrun it.
Or out"ride" it rather, since it's Tuesday, which means it's my morning for Spin Class.
But then I thought of all the eyes I'd have to meet as I walked through the door,
inopportunely at the front of the bicycle fleet,
aglow in light from the brightness beyond.
Even in the darkened room, they would see my anguish.
Feel my shame.
I did not not want to cry with strangers.
Not even with dear friends, who I knew were watching,
waiting,
probably already spinning,
an empty bike at their side,
reserved for me.
Just another way
I'd let another someone
down.
Someone who was counting on me.
With that thought, the guilt that had been lurking in the shadows of my heart
came pounding in, claws curling, teeth bared, ready to consume me.
And so the tears began...
And then refused to stop.
Too much for today.
At not even 6 am.
.
So I stayed, scraping myself together,
and deciding to work on the last little piece of Cub Scout Pack Meeting for tonight.
The piece that is still mine.
The very small piece.
With a sigh, I realized all the friends who have had to step in and carry more than their load.
Do more than their job.
Because I've been gone. Busy. Otherwise detained with something much more important.
A matter of life and death, in fact.
And I cried harder.
And ached deeper.
.
To distract myself, I decided to download some photos.
Ones still waiting patiently in my camera, for their turn on my To Do List.
I'd barely regained my composure when the Images slowly appeared,
one by one on my screen.
Last week's trip to the Fire Station.
To visit the men
who first appeared
to help to save my son.
Through flooded eyes, I could barely see their brave and handsome faces.
Each of them so dear, although I barely know them.
Remarkable men... whom I had dumped my burden on.
Someone's brother.
Someone's son.
Someone's husband.
Someone's daddy.
Someone who fearlessly and instantly came, sirens blaring. To try and patch up my mistake.
Someone who's heart hung heavy, worrying their effort might have been be in vain.
Not enough to fix what I had done.
The weight of guilt can be physically crushing.
I looked away and shook their faces from my head.
Abandoning them for a stronger day.
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And then another Image took the stage upon my screen.
My "Smalls"...
My TWO sweet little boys, shirtless, clad only in diapers and their priceless smiles,
strapped safely in their highchairs laughing at me.
Oh, what I had put them through.
Oh, what I had nearly taken from them.
The horror of what almost was washed over me,
through every fiber of my soul.
The tears were silent now, just steady streams of heartache.
Spilling out of eyes that could not bare to look.
Oh, how could I have born that agony?
How could I have gone on?
One less?
I surely would have crumbled.
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6:15.
A quick check of my e-mail reminded me that it's not quick anymore.
Yes. I've read many. Gleaned most.
Absorbed them, really.
Tried to use them to fill that empty, aching hole of remorse.
But nevertheless, I am sure I've missed a few.
Still 4, 500 messages in my Inbox.
Not even counting the comments on our blog...
All those people...
Family. Friends. Neighbors. Friends of friends and neighbors. ...Even strangers.
Surely representing exponentially more that wept silently, without leaving a word.
Look at what I've done?
The ripples are so far reaching there's no telling where they'll stop.
So much sadness.
So much heartache.
So much anguish.
So many people cried for our boy.
So many people ached with us.
So many people I hurt.
Literally, around the world.
With one. Simple. Slip.
If you've ever thought you were alone, think again.
If you've ever thought you were an island and your choices were yours alone, think harder.
If you've ever had the audacity to feel lonely... Well, Ha! I have, too!
But we were both wrong, you & I.
No one is ever alone.
Ever.
Look at all... these... people...
Brothers and sisters in spirit
who I have pulled momentarily away from their own lives with my profound imposition.
Scrolling, still scrolling, my tears began to slow.
Now I feel like I'm the one who's drowning.
In the guilt and the regret.
As the immensity of responsibility threatens to overtake me.
It's just so big. And I, so very small.
Oh, how sorry that I am.
How very, very sorry.
.
Matt got the big boys up.
Made them a hot, cooked breakfast, like any other normal morning.
And at some point, he left for work.
Somehow I went through the motions of getting them ready for school.
Showered, dressed, beds made and back-packs packed.
And off they went with a kiss and a prayer.
My smalls still sleeping, I tried to go about my morning routine.
Already out of rhythm..
.
And so I called my sweetheart.
Told him how awful I felt.
Cried pathetically.
Told him about the guilt and the regret.
He listened.
Told me to remember that the blessings
far outnumber the mistake.
The joy far outweighs the pain.
Said the only one blaming me is me.
And perhaps a few unhappy strangers who do not know my heart.
Reminded me that the benefits of sharing our story far overshadow the risks.
Says he's grateful for all I've said.
Repeated, again, how much good has come of this, already.
Pointed out, again, how we have been used as instruments in the hands of God
to show His love, His mercy, His grace and His miraculous power.
He helped me to see what a pivotal occurrence this has been.
So many lives touched.
So many strengthened.
So many people reevaluating. Re-prioritizing.
So many kind, supportive words expressed.
So much faith renewed.
So many prayers petitioning heaven.
So many principles practiced with purpose.
So many, uniting.
So. Much. Power.
.
Man... he's getting good at this whole girlfriend pep-talk thing.
He also threw in a little plug about my need of sleep
and carefully suggested that I might be slightly more emotional than usual.
.
I felt a little better.
Like I could maybe do today after all.
.
Now I need to make something very clear...
I do not share this incident because I am fishing for any sort of consolation.
In fact, I think I'll try to turn off the comment section for this post,
for I know just what you'll say.
(I know what I would say if I were you...)
So thank you.
Thank you for hearing me.
You've saved me thou$ands in therapy, I am sure.
Thank you for putting yourself in my shoes.
Trying to imagine what it's been like.
Even though you do not want to, I assure you.
Thank you most of all for learning vicariously from our experience.
And pledging not to make the same mistake or any other like it.
Promising to remember and to try a little harder.
To stay more focused. To be more diligent.
To let the little things wait while you give more heed to that which really matters.
For the scope of what we've learned goes far beyond the bathtub.
Please appreciate each moment.
For once it's over, it is gone forever.
Do not let it leave you with regret.
If you are blessed with children in your life,
please embrace them for the amazing people that they are within.
Try to look them in the eye whenever you speak with them.
Connect, soul to soul, each and every day.
Allow yourself to be amazed and humbled by their depth and by their strength.
Respect them, even in their tiny, grubby packaging.
Thank them for the lessons that they teach you.
Even the painful, inconvenient ones.
For truly, what would you rather be doing anyway?
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As for me, I have more reasons to rejoice than I deserve!
And believe me, I am so so grateful!
Yet there is still a part of me that's struggling.
Grappling with what I need to do and how to do it.
Knowing that where much is given, much is also required.
Well, what more could I be given?
And while I feel inadequate and insecure in a role that's way too big for me to fill,
I also recognize that this means there's room for growth.
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And I'm still fighting to forgive that girl I live inside of.
But it will come, I'm sure. In time.
I know it will because it always has before.
I don't do grudges.
They are and never have been good for anyone.
I just have to figure out exactly how to grant myself that same type of pardon,
which is so much easier for me to hand to others.
Yet somewhere deep down I know
that as I find the strength to turn my broken heart over to my loving Savior, Jesus Christ,
that He will heal it.
That through His Atonement, which was on my behalf, as well as yours,
I will find the power to become better.
To accept the forgiveness He has already granted and to extend it to myself.
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As for now, I want to share my hope.
And my conviction.
I know we have a Father in Heaven who loves us.
Who knows each of us by name.
Who knows infinitesimally what we need at each and every moment.
He hears our prayers.
He answers them.
He has a plan that we do not always fully understand.
He has an army of angels, ready to fight on His behalf and spread His word,
both here and on the other side of the veil, between this life and the next.
We are mindful that some who have lived this nightmare we've endured,
have had their sweet babies called home into His loving arms.
There were many times we feared that would be His will.
We were afraid but ready to accept it.
But for some reason, Bronson was allowed to stay with us.
Our loving Heavenly Father divinely intervened with the course of nature
and allowed our son to be healed.
Not only to survive, but to be restored. Fully.
He allowed Bronson to be brought back
under the worthy hands of his father's Priesthood blessing
and then repaired by the capable hands of doctors and nurses
who saw unprecedented and expedited results to their procedures.
We could not be more grateful.
We stand as fervent witnesses that He is a God of miracles.
We do not wish to overstate, but we know that a true and utter miracle
was certainly granted in Bronson's life and in behalf of our family.
We know that miracles are given as a benefit to all mankind.
This is much, much bigger than we are.
We feel the weight of this solemn responsibility.
An obligation coupled with a true and heartfelt desire to share his story
in hopes of strengthening the faith of others and cementing our own.
We hope to help Bronson grow to be worthy of the mission he is already fulfilling.
What a strong and incredible spirit he has.
He has overcome all odds.
He has not accepted limitations.
He has fought and defied all restrictions, and all while winning hearts with that contagious smile!
We are so blessed to know him.
To be taught by him.
We are thankful to know that our family is eternal in nature.
We love each one of our amazing boys and are so proud of each of them.
We find peace in the love and unity we enjoy within our home.
We are learning to embrace the imperfections.
To think of them as opportunities.
And we thank each of you...
For loving us beyond what we deserve.
For reaching out to us in our utmost time of need.
For answering our private prayers without even knowing it.
For lightening our burden and sustaining us.
Mourning with us while we mourned.
Comforting us while we stood in need of comfort.
You are truly angels here upon the earth.
May God bless you!
.
And may we all find the strength and the courage
to seek out another such family wherever we may be
and continue on in service.
Let us be always an army of refuge and support.
Of love and of light.

Monday, February 22, 2010

"Normal" is as normal does... right?

As we try to settle back in to our life,
everything feels so similar, almost comfortable...
but somehow surprisingly different...
I guess we are still trying to find a new "normal"...
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But this is about as 'normal' as it gets around here!
STRAPPED tightly into their highchairs,
side-by-side,
giggling at my silly lunch-making antics...
like Peanut Butter & Jelly Peek-a-Boo.
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These two little stinkers are like two peas in a pod!
B follows his big bro around all day, just starstruck.
Mimicking every motion and gesture. Repeating the inflection of every phrase.
Eager to be on to the newest mischevious adventure.
D eats it up.
Loves to be the center of attention. Loves to be adored.
Such a pair.
Oh, what would I do without the TWO of them!

Saturday, February 20, 2010

B Strong... B Fit... Be One... B THERE!

As we acclimate back into "real life"
and marvel in the joy of just being HOME together,
our wonderful, a-MAZ-ing and completely over-achieving sister, Mindy,
is putting this great event together in our behalf.
{Sigh}
The blessings just seem to have no end.
We are absolutely thankful.
(Thanks, Mind!)
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We are also grateful
that this will provide us with a much-needed opportunity
to thank so many of you for your love and support,
and allow us to throw you a bit of a Thank-You Party!
. .
So whether you run, or not... please
Come celebrate the gift of life with us
in honor of Bronson's second chance!

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There will be a 5K and a Children's 1 Mile Fun Run.
Both starting at 9 am
Food, Games, Prizes, Raffles, Bounce Houses!

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Register online @:
https://www.active.com/event_detail.cfm?event_id=1839825
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We look forward to seeing you there!

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Today I am grateful...

Today I am grateful...
For the little pile of fishy cracker crumbs I get to vacuum from beneath the kitchen High Chair...
For the big, slobbery kisses smeared at the bottom of my full-length Bathroom mirror...
For two stinky little bums to change, and a diaper genie I get to empty...
For onesies to bleach... and wash... and fold... and put away for another day's use...
For bottles and sippy cups to empty from the Dishwasher...
For the pudgey, pounding little Fred-Flinstone-feet that toddle to answer our doorbell...
For the kisses blown abundantly to strangers, and to friends alike...
Sometimes even at me.
I am thankful for the never-ending chaos...
Grateful for the grimey little smudges on my Television screen...
Delighted to re-roll the potty-paper from half way across the room... yet again....
Appreciative of the wild, little maniacs I am able to chase and tickle to hysteria...
Oh, those contagious little giggles...
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How I adore them.
How undeserving, and yet how exultant I am to collect them.
How welcome are those eager little arms, wrapping around their Mommy.
{Sigh}
Oh, how very fortunate am I...

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Happy Valentine's Day, Sweets...

Just to give credit where credit is due,
it was my sweet Matt, Bronson's loving and adoring Daddy,
who made the Video in the prior post (below)...
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And it is the best Valentine's gift I could ever receive...
To have our little family ALL together in THIS part of our forever.
We don't have to wait until the eternities to be together again...
We are all here.
Today. Here. Now.
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It was his faith that sustained me.
His arms that wrapped me in warmth in that cold, lonely hospital.
His sweet forgiveness that means more to me than anything else.
.
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I thought I loved him on our wedding day.
I knew I did when we had our first baby boy.
And then more and more with each of the others.
But I did not even know who he was then.
I did not know the depth of his soul or the quiet power behind those warm brown eyes.
.
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He is a man of few words.
(Well, compared to me at least...)
But whatever he shares is always sincere. Genuine. Enough.
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I feel like the luckiest, most blessed girl in the world today.
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Love you, Sweets. I am forever yours...
Happy Valentine's Day.
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Love,
Toots

Bronson's Miracle

We thank you forever for your prayers and your faith on behalf of our little family. We can not thank you enough for helping us to call down the healing powers of heaven to fix our broken little boy. We know that Bronson lives today because it is Heavenly Father's will that he be allowed to stand as a testimony of His miraculous power . We hope to make the most of this second chance. There are truly no words that can express gratitude of this magnitude. Just joy... Pure joy!
Love- The Staker Family

Friday, February 12, 2010

Undisputed Champion of the World...

Ummm... yeah...
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So as you can see, the Physical Therapy Appointment this morning went well...

Coming home...

I type with one hand while I hold him...
as he helps every so often from my lap.
fedasx
There that was from him.
We just wanted to share more amazing news!
We are going home today!
HOME!
They see no reason to keep him!
When they discharged us from PICU to NTU yesterday,
there was talk of sending us home.
But they wanted to watch his pneumonia one more night
and so we stayed.
He slept on my chest all night, wanting his mommy.
Forgiveness is sweet.
We are heading to an Physical and Occupational Therapy Session this morning
at the hospital's Rehabilitation Gym.
Then we will say good-bye to beloved friends,
pack up the zoo of assorted new bedtime pals and come home with out little miracle.
Just wanted you to know what your prayers have done.
Words are utterly useless.
None sufficient to express relief and gratitude of this magnitude.
But thank you.
THANK YOU.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Survived the Press interview...
{Insert BIG sigh of relief...}
They all seemed really nice.
I'd been worried...
Hoping they'd give things the positive spin they deserve.
But they were hoping for a story with a happy ending.
...This place needs one this week.
Thank goodness Bronson is the miracle they were looking for...
The miracle we were all looking for!
Oh, thank you Heavenly Father for granting us a miracle!
.
Sooo...
If you'd like to see our sweet boy on TV,
tune in to Channel 5 News at 6:00. Or Channel 4.
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Unfortunately, you'll also have to watch me ramble to the cameras,
wearing clothes I dug out from the bottom of my bag.
Clothes I've worn 3 other times this week and slept in twice, by the way.
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Will someone please DVR it for us?
Bronson will love to see himself on TV.
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And maybe someday I'll want to roll my eyes at myself on camera.
Gag...
I really hate to be on the wrong side of the camera...
I'd much rather be behind it!

Big Steps Forward...

As if we haven't had enough miracles...

This morning we've made another few big steps toward coming home!

B is walking!

He is playing fetch with his new favorite ball!

(Thanks, Auntie Krista!)

And he is off all oxygen and support and is on only minimal monitoring.

No one can believe it!

It is all smiles here!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Poor Little Bobble-head...

Brons has lost so much weight, he almost looks like a little Bobble-head!
Poor kid!
.
.
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But hey, we are just thrilled to see him, skin & bones, sitting up by himself
and holding up that big, giant noggin without help!
And seriously, look at those poor, tired, baby blues...
He can barely keep his eyes open!
Our little guy has just been through the ringer!
Cross your fingers for a good night's rest...
Heaven knows we could all use one!

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Marching one by one... Hurrah, hurrah!

More playtime fun!
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A few small steps... giant leaps!

Just to keep things fun, I thought we'd tip you the other way, just to even things out...
(Sorry... I'm a photographer, please remember... NOT a videographer!)
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Here's B thinkin' he can just toddle right on outta here!
"Come on guys! Let's go!"

"Do As I'm Doing" happy time...

If you know Bronson well,
you know that his FAVORITE thing in the whole world
is the song "Do As I'm Doing".
That little turkey will come running from anywhere in the house
as soon as he hears anyone singing it...
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So when the big bros came for a visit last night,
they just had to have some play time!
So fun!

Sweetest smile in the world...back again...

Sorry this is sideways... I am too tired to try to figure out how to rotate it.

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Just tip your head sideways and enjoy! ;)

Words can not express...

I am speechless...
And you all probably know by now, that takes a lot...
Wow...
What a difference 24 hours can make.
.
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I'm not even going to TRY to describe.
Joy...
Pure joy!

AWAKE and back in our arms...

{Insert happy sigh here}...

He is awake!

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...and back in our arms!

Remember that hunch?

WE HAVE A MIRACLE HAPPENING HERE IN ROOM 2314!
I want to shout it from the rooftops!
My fingers can barely type,
I am shaking...
BRONSON IS AWAKE!
HE IS HERE!
HE IS LOOKING AT ME!
HE IS TRACKING THE TEDDY BEAR WITH HIS EYES!
HE SMILES AT ME WHEN I TICKLE AND PLAY WITH HIM!
HE REACHES FOR THINGS WITH REASON!
HE RESPONDS TO OUR COMMANDS!
WORDS CAN NOT EXPRESS...
HE IS IN THERE AFTER ALL!
LIGHTS ON!
HE LOOKS JUST LIKE MY BOY!
JUST LIKE OUR BOY!
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Just a few minutes ago I came into his room.
I crashed hard-core last night.
Could NOT keep my eyes open any longer.
Slept too late this morning.
Can't remember the last time I slept that long.
I walked in his Room about 9:45 in the middle of an Occupational Therapy session.
They tried to get him to sit yesterday. It did not go well.
Today, they thought they'd try lowering the Precedex.
That darn Precedex...
About half an hour after they turned off the sedation,
he began tracking between the Occupational Therapist and his Nurse, Heidi.
They were shocked.
They tried to call me but there is no cell phone coverage in the parent sleep cells.
Then I slept through the overhead page.
Man, were they excited to show me when I walked in the room!
It was that Precedex.
I KNEW it!
It was the only thing I could think of as we'd poured over his chart looking for an explanantion.
Apparently even the uber-low dose they had him on was too much for his virgin blood.
(He's like his Mama... Just a couple tylenol will knock me out...)
The Nurse Practitioner showed me a text on his pager from our Nurse Heidi, that said
"Bronson is awake and surprisingly alert. Tracking. Sitting. There is no reason this kid needs to be intubated. You must come see! "
All the hospital staff and nurses who love him have been in to see already.
They are thrilled!
We called Daddy.
He wept.
He is driving as fast as he can to get here safely.
He told me of the prayers and scriptures he and our big boys had read together last night.
The tender prayers and the first fast of Bronson's sweet brothers have done this.
The faith of his Daddy has brought this to pass.
The prayers and faith of all of you, collectively petitioning Heaven on his behalf.
The will of God has been shown...
To use our tiny sweet strong and incredible boy
as an instrument in His hands.
To unite strangers and loved ones in faith.
To bear testimony of His love and His power.
We thank you for your prayers.
We thank you for the power of your fast.
We thank you for your faith and sustaining love and support from across the globe.
God IS a God of miracles.
Let us never never forget!
Let us never be afraid to share our testimonies boldly.
Unabashed.
I have a million things to share, but will keep this short, so I can go and be with my boy.
He is back!
Oh thank Heaven he is back!

Monday, February 8, 2010

Bronson's True Colors...

Just thought you might like to see what Baby Brons looked like
before all of the tubes and wires...
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I am a card carrying member of the Mamrazzi, after all.
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(For those of you who don't actually KNOW me, I own a portrait photography business.
My own boys are, of course, my very favorite subject matter!)
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These are Bronson's most recent True Colors Portraits...
A series of Monochromatic Images I created from his 12 Month Session
to remind me of all the expressions we love most at this age...
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Love, love, LOVE that smile!
Mmmm... mmm... mmm!
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He has always been a "watcher"...
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Big, bright eyes taking in the world around him...
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And then there's that tongue of his...
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Always out in concentration.
Just like his Daddy and his big brother Dayne.
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And this look of absolute, unmistakable worry...
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He was a born worry-wart. Made this face from birth. Literally.
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And his red-hot temper...
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Of all our boys, he has by far the shortest fuse.
He's pretty outspoken about what he wants!
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And then that crooked little grin with the contagious giggle...
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Oh, how I love that giggle...
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{Sigh}
I miss it tonight...

Wiggle worm...

Auntie Bugud, this is for you...
(before you go completely manic from the isolation and the not knowing...)
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Sorry this update has been so long in coming... it's just been a tad bit busy!
But I hope you'll agree it was worth the wait...
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We are still not back to where we were three days ago,
(no tracking yet, and still a lot of open-eyed blank staring)
but we are getting occasional eye contact!
Here's proof!
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As of early Saturday morning, Bronson has 2 new periphreal IV's.
Crazy how many times this poor kid has had to be punctured, poked and probed.
Also crazy how little I care about those tiny little things any more.
Before this, I would get all worked up about a tiny scratch or scrape on my perfect little child.
Let alone a big ol' nasty bruise.
But let's face it, once your kid has been on life support for a few days,
a needle poke seems like a whole lot of nothin'.
So, the IV in his right arm got a little leaky,
and they put a brand spankin' new one back into his left.
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He passed his 9 am SBT with flying colors.
Perfect breathing without the ventilator for an hour.
But by 11, he was having increasing difficulty with his respirations, even on the vent.
He was pulling really hard with each retraction, getting more and more agitated.
I just feel so helpless to see him like that.
They took him off the vent long enough to bag and suction him.
I think I held my breath the whole time.
So, so scary.
The RT came and increased his pressure support back up to 12.
By noon he was relaxed and had started to get his color back.
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His brothers came for a visit around 2.
Bronson was in the middle of another SBT,
so we took a break while he slept and went up to the Children's Room with them.
Daynen just looks so big all of the sudden!
Why do they always wait to grow up until you miss a day or two of their lives?
Then they look so different!
Crazy!
Kaden made a paper mache mask and played in the arcade for a bit with Matt.
A racing game, I think.
Trevan colored a poster and then played Foosball with a hospital volunteer.
Daynen, well, he was Daynen.
He ran around like crazy and played with every toy he could get his hands on.
What a nut! I forgot how much he makes me chuckle.
Man, I miss those boys...
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Back up in B's room at 3, we found that he'd passed his SBT.
Yay! One more sign of encouragement!
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Then, late last evening, the RT felt it was safe to hold him.
It is quite a process...
They have to rearrange the room to accommodate all the tubes and wires.
Wheel the IV and Meds Pump Stand all the way around the bed.
Safety pin the vent tubes to your shoulder to hold them in place.
Position about 4 pillows to support him and all his miscellaneous paraphernalia.
Kind of a laborious task.
But definitely worth it!
I told Matt to go first.
Bronson slept through it the night before, but this time he became increasingly agitated.
We had to discontinue and settle him back in bed at about 11:30.
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We were all worn out. I could barely keep my eyes open!
We wheeled our big fat bags down the hall to the Parent Sleep Rooms
and looked for the Post-it Note marking our door.
There was no Post-it Note marking our door.
They'd forgotten to request one for us.
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Who could we call at 12:30 for a bed?
The gave us a list of hotels that offer discounts to PCMC parents.
Matt decided we should go home.
By the time we would call and find a hotel with availability, get there,
check in and get settled, we could be home, he said.
I get anxiety at the thought of leaving my baby.
That is how we got into this mess...
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I was exhausted.
I cried as we pulled our bags out the front doors of the hospital,
across the courtyard and into the parking garage to find Matt's truck.
The first time I'd set foot any farther from his room than the cafeteria.
Leaving our boy upstairs... alone.
.
Matt phoned Alli and woke her up to warn her we were on our way.
We would just sneak in and sleep downstairs in our spare bedroom, he said.
We just didn't want to startle her coming in.
.
I reclined the seat in his truck and cozied up in my blanket.
We chatted for the first few minutes of the drive, but then suddenly I woke and we were home.
Our wonderful, thoughtful Alli had changed the sheets on our bed and insisted we sleep in it.
I was too much of a wreck to argue.
.
We slept like parents who haven't in a week.
We woke early. Before the boys.
Emptied our bags of dirty laundry. Repacked them.
Showered in our own shower.
Oh...
The shower...
Right by the tub...
I tried not to look at it as I walked past.
But as I finished my shower and went to step out, there was no bath mat.
Where was the bath mat?
Why did we have no bath mat?
And then I remembered it'd been covered in Bronson's breakfast during CPR.
Thank you to whoever threw it away.
I stood there, cold and shivering, trying not to remember as the scene flashed through my mind.
I could not stand there to get dressed.
There will have to be a new place now.
.
Somehow Matt got me to finish getting dressed.
Kaden woke.
We had a sweet few moments, one on one.
Matt explained how to fast for strength.
Kaden said he might bear his testimony in church.
I asked him what he'd say. I wished I could be in two places at once.
We knelt and prayed to begin our fast.
We were in the truck ready to head back by 9 am this morning.
The neighborhood was quiet as we drove through.
I thought fondly, gratefully of my neighbors and friends as we passed each house.
Wondering when I might see them next.
.
We called the hospital en route.
Bronson had slept soundly.
A sigh of relief.
We pulled in just before 10 am.
We wheeled our bags through the cold, empty hallways.
Smiling and waving to the now familiar faces as we passed.
.
We went in to see our boy.
He survived another night.
Even without me by his bedside.
He's a champ.
Somehow I survived it, too.
.
Sacrament Meeting is held in an auditorium on the 3rd floor at 10:30.
We walked into the room hand in hand to meet the warm, welcoming gazes
of doctors, nurses, parents, various patients and the angel volunteers.
It was a group of about 60.
We sang and we prayed with strangers we felt strangely akin to.
The Sacrament was blessed and passed.
I thought how broken our hearts were.
How contrite our spirits.
Now, more than ever before.
The Sacramental Prayers had new meaning as I heard the promises again with tender, new ears.
Oh, how grateful and unworthy I am to take His name upon me.
Oh, how I need to remember Him, always.
Oh, how I need His spirit to be with me, to comfort and guide me.
And oh, how grateful I am for His cleansing blood. Which was shed for me.
Just a handful of testimonies were born.
Humble. Touching. Powerful.
We both quivered as we tried to sing the closing song.
A familiar favorite, now with new and deeper meaning.
"Because I have been given much, I too must give.
Because of thy great bounty Lord, each day I live.
I shall divide my gifts from thee with every brother that I see,
who has the need of help from me.
Because I have been sheltered, fed by thy good care.
I can not see another's lack and I not share.
My glowing fire, my loaf of bread, my roof's safe shelter overhead,
That he too may be comforted.
Because I have been blessed by thy great love, dear Lord.
I'll share thy love again according to thy word.
I shall give love to those in need, I'll show that love by word and deed
Thus shall my thanks be thanks indeed."
I bowed my head as the closing prayer was offered and promised my Father in Heaven
that I would never pass up an opportunity to serve someone in need
if I had the means to help them.
I am so unequal to the blessings that are continually poured out upon me and my little family.
Many from Him, and many by those of you who serve Him faithfully.
If I spent the rest of my days in constant service,
I could never repay you for all of the kindnesses extended to us.
Let alone my debt to Him.
.
We arrived back in Bronson's room feeling nourished and strong.
we spent a couple of quiet hours listening to Primary Songs and reading.
He passed another SBT but then we found him struggling.

As soon as it was over, he began to seem tachypneic ( pronounced tah-kip-nic).

That's a big fancy way to say he was breathing really fast and hard,

with a heart rate to match.

He seemed to be pulling in so hard for air. Like breathing through a straw.

Retractions heavy. Head bobbing. Looking exhausted.

They bagged and suctioned him.

I hate that.

.

A little after 4, I noticed his tummy looked a little too rounded.

It was unmistakably distended.

I pointed it out to Molly, the Nurse, today.

She agreed.

She called in Cory, the Nurse Practitioner,

and together they decided another NG (Nasal Gastric) Tube was the best course of action.

Using a large syringe, she pulled out over 180 cc of trapped air

and about 50 more cc of stomach fluid. Poor kid.

Once out, it seemed to relieve the pressure and his tummy softened and looked normal again.

.

A little after 6, he had his 8th poopy diaper of the day.

As I changed it and weighed it for the nurse, I noticed that his poor bum is looking quite red.

Not just a normal red, but bumpy and fierce.

I knew right away it was yeast from the antibiotics.

Molly called Cory again, and they both concurred.

They wrote up an order for Nyastatin ointment.

.

Around 8, they started him on his final SBT for the day.

He was resting so soundly, I wondered if it was really worth bothering him.

The RT assured me that it was worth the exercise

if we want to strengthen his little lungs enough to have a chance at extubation tomorrow.

Alright, already...

He sailed through it.
Yay!
.
The only other thing worth mentioning is that he found his own new little groove today.
He has figured out how to wiggle worm his way down into the crib
so that he is laying at a diagonal,
.
.
with his right arm up above his head
often grabbing the siderail pole
.
.
and his left foot pressing up against or hanging out of the other side.
.
.
And usually tapping.
He is insistent about maintaining this position!
(Funny because he does that at home!)
Molly, Matt and I all tried for several hours
to straighten him into a more comfortable looking position,
propped up and laying straight, but he was NOT havin' it!
It only took him about 30 seconds to rerrange himself
RIGHT back to the way he wants to be, each time.
We finally gave up trying!
Hey, if that's how he's comfy... Whatev!
.
He has also started doing this crazy yoga maneuver, something like a complete backbend.
He doesn't seem to be particularly agitated or bothered when he does it,
just every so often, but dang!
.
.
He wants outta this bed!
He's a strong little sucker!

Close to my heart...

A few days ago, my dear friend, Jane, sent me a text from her anniversary trip to Maui.
"Our flight comes in tomorrow morning," she explained.
"We'd like to stop by the hospital and see you on the way home from the airport."
"We'll be here," I said.
"I'm not going home until I can take him with me."
.
The visit was a wonderful distraction from the mundane day.
They are wonderful friends.
She brought a gift, of course... She's Jane.
She's always great at giving gifts.
They are always perfect.
This one was no less.
.
.
She took my shoulders and looked me in the eye.
"I know you said you are not leaving the hospital without him," she said.
"But at some point you are going to have to...
You still have 3 other babies at home who need you."
"I got this so that whenever you are ready, whenever you have to go,
you can take him with you and keep him close to your heart."
.
.
{Sigh...}
Jane.
Like I said, it's perfect.
I love, love, LOVE it.
I love, love, LOVE that girl.
I have not taken it off...

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Baby Steps...

It was kind of a slow, quiet day for our little man...
The big thing to report today is the continuation of his arm movements.
Up and all around and even above his head.
Yay!
.
He was awake for much of the day, but still had that blank empty stare that we hate.
{Sigh...}
.
They did remove his femoral central IV line.
There's our one line out for the day.
.
Five poopy diapers. Count them... 5!
.
He also had a couple of Spontaneous Breathing Trials.
(That is where they turn the ventilator onto standby mode and allow him to breathe for himself to see how he'll do when they attempt extubation again.)
He was a little agitated when they turned the pressure support down from 12 to 8,
so they tried again and he was able to hold steady at 10.
They'll try another in the morning.
One step at a time... right?
.
.
We got to hold him again.
Amazing.
.
We had lots of wonderful visitors and have some incredible stories to share.
Truly incredible...
.
But I'll have to beg your apologies...
We are all tired tonight, so I'll have to keep you waiting.
Because, after all, that is what we are doing.
Just waiting...

A week ago... right now...

A week ago right now, I lived in a beautiful, beloved home
that I can hardly remember right now,
as I sit here in this giant, cold building I can not leave.
.
My biggest concerns were how I would gently remind Matt, without nagging,
that the undecorated Christmas tree still needed to be carried down to the storage room.
.
It was driving me crazy that it was already the end of January
and my Valentine's Day decorations were still not up.
.
I was far too frustrated by the final five pounds I've been battling so hard against.
The ones that simply refused to melt off my hips.
.
I was trying to figure out how to squeeze in a pedicure that afternoon
and still get the laundry caught up.
.
Worried about getting the invitations out for our Super Bowl Party.
(Who is playing again?)
.
And anxious to getting started right away on my next book.
.
Who was that girl?
I want to go back in time and warn her that her charmed life is about to be turned upside down.
That someone is about to pull out the rug...
.
Right now, there was bath water running into the tub.
Right now, I was walking down the hall for the pajamas.
Right now, I was thinking that I could quickly put away the laundry.
Right then, I had forgotten what was most important...
.
I want to shout to her, "No! Don't leave them!"
"Hurry back! They need you!"
"Stop! That will wait!"
.
How I wish I could turn back the clock.
Life can turn on a dime...
.
.
Right now, my biggest concern is if my baby can get enough oxygen to keep himself alive
as they try to wean him off the vent.
.
It is driving me crazy that it is the end of the week and we still don't have any idea what his long-term prognosis might be.
.
I zipped up my skinny jeans today and it wasn't nearly as exciting as I'd imagined it would be.
The motherload of poop we found in Bronson's diaper yesterday was 10x more thrilling.
Maybe 100x!
Funny how perspective can change...

Waxing and waning...

Right now, this minute, Bronson is moving his right arm... again.
The one he only twitched just a little bit yesterday.
The one they said might be partially paralyzed due to neurological damage.
The one that was unresponsive during the Neuro-Assessment just earlier this morning.
They say these types of brain injuries can evolve.
That there will be "waxing and waning".
.
.
...Glad to be back to the waxing!
.
So as I gave him a little sponge bath and styled his funky little faux hawk,
he batted my hand away. Cognitively. Several times.
Just like he does at home when he's bugged with my ceaseless primping and polishing.
.
I ran out and grabbed the Nurse Practitioner, Kristen.
Dr. Bennett ran in as well.
It was smiles all around the room.
I hate to say I told you so...
But ...then maybe I don't! ;)

Friday, February 5, 2010

Chasing out fear, choosing faith...

The MRI was encouraging.
{Insert HUGE sigh of relief...}
No visible sign of damage to the brain.
That does not insure that the functionality of all his faculties is intact,
but at least it is not a negative.
At least it is not more BAD news.
Today has been our scariest yet.
And also our most sacred.
What a juxtaposition of emotion...
.
I went to bed at about 4:30 Friday morning.
Baby B was resting quietly.
I kissed him goodnight and said a prayer with him at his bedside.
He opened his eyes and our hearts connected.
Spirit to spirit.
For just a brief moment
Good Night, my sweet boy, I said.
.
I went to my sleep cell a few hallways away.
Thank you, Savannah, for the electric blanket.
I was warm and slept soundly until about 8:15.
I woke and packed up my bag, pulling it back down the hallway,
greeting the familiar faces along the trek.
Another day here at the PICU.
.
As I walked into B's room and met the new Day Nurse, Rowdy,
I was immediately alarmed.
In the bed where I'd left my little boy to heal and rest
lay a glassy-eyed guy with a blank, empty stare.
My stomach dropped...
"So how are we this morning?", I asked cautiously.
Rowdy filled me in on the morning's Neuro Exam.
He'd come on shift to meet Bronson for the first time and had been advised of his exciting progress.
But he'd found him a little sluggish.
Wide awake, but not really alert.
Staring blankly without focusing. Looking right through everyone.
Unresponsive to stimuli.
What had changed in those 3 hours and 45 minutes?
.
The Nurse Practitioner was called.
Then the Attending Physician.
Then the Neuro-Trauma Specialist.
We went over and over his chart, again and again.
We asked about all his medications.
What had changed? What had increased? What was new since yesterday?
We hypothesized about the possible changes and his sudden decline.
No one had any answers.
Had we imagined the encouraging progress? Embellished it? Misunderstood it?
No, I had seen my boy.
We had seen our boy. We were sure of it.
Others were sure of it.
We even had him on video from the day before.
Dr. Bennett explained that a neuro-trauma injury can evolve and often plateau.
Was this our plateau?
Was this the boy we would be left with?
We felt defeated.
Like someone had just let the air out of our balloon.
.
.
We may have to wait for an MRI until Monday.
How could we wait until Monday?
No, they could squeeze us in.
We waited the long, drugerous hours until 3:00 pm.
.
Our Stake President stopped in to see how we were doing.
He found us worried. Well, terrified. Faltering in our faith. Sick.
Matt gathered himself and they offered Bronson a Priesthood Blessing.
Matt... Oh, my Matt...
He turned his little body and mind back over to the God who had helped us to create him.
Asking for the faith to discover Heavenly Father's will and the strength to follow it.
To align ours with His.
President Francom counseled and advised. Hugged and encouraged.
What a blessed servant of the Lord.
He left us and I plead for your prayers.
They took Bronson down for the MRI.
Matt and I held each other in that empty little hospital room and fell apart in each others' arms. Sobbing and clinging to one another, praying.
Pleading for our son with every ounce of strength we could muster.
Sealing our hearts together.
Like never before.
I can not share the words we spoke with one another.
They are the most precious we have ever shared together.
But as I spoke, I realized that faith can not grow where fear is allowed to dwell.
There is not room in my heart for both.
Fear is the paralyzing agent of the adversary.
A first line of his defense.
And so I made a choice.
I must choose faith. Choose to believe. Despite the odds.
Despite the grim news. Despite the reality before us.
No matter how vulnerable and unguarded I let myself become, I will not, I can not fear.
I swallowed hard. Past the unbearable burn in my throat.
And chose to let go of the fear. Chasing it out with my faith.
Doctors do not know everything. They can only make their best guesses.
And even they admit to seeing miracles every day.
.
I know Heavenly Father lives.
I know He loves Bronson and has a plan for his life.
If it is God's will for him to remain with us, he will.
Simple as that.
And with the whole world praying, what have I to fear?
The Lord is bound to answer the prayers of the righteous when they are asked in faith.
And this is the righteous desire of our hearts...
We plea that He will spare our son. Heal his body. Protect his mind.
So that he may live out the rest of this mortal life as a testimony of God's miraculous power.
I can not consider the other option.
There is no other option.
.
But I am stronger than I thought I was.
I can do hard things.
Our family can do hard things.
We will accept the will of our loving Father in Heaven because it has never lead us astray.
Why would it now?
We will trust. We will be believing.
We will continue loving and being loved.
And we will press on faithfully, because we are faithful.
.
This I know...
Bronson's spirit is untouched. It lies within a broken body I do not know how to fix.
But he is ours. Forever. Come what may.
I am blessed to be his Mommy. Matt to be his Daddy.
.
The name Bronson means "Strong one".
The name Micheal means "One who is like God".
It is no coincidence that we chose these names for him.
What a powerful force he is...
Our strong, sweet, wonderful, beautiful boy.
By small and simple things, great things are brought to pass.
And great things have already come to pass.
People who do not pray, are praying.
People who do not believe, are finding hope.
People are reevaluating their faith and priorities.
I am reevaluating my faith and my priorities.
And THAT is the miracle.
He is uniting people across the globe.
Literally.
Teaching the power of prayer. Individually. And how collectively, it multiplies exponentially.
Allowing us an opportunity to practice our faith. And allow it to grow.
.
I do not know why our family was chosen to pass through this challenge.
But I do know that God is mindful of each and every one of us.
All of the time.
He reaches out with tender arms of mercy.
In tiny specific ways.
Extending his grace until we are filled. Until we are enough.
.
Our Angel Nurse, Sally, helped us to hold him tonight.
To cradle our arms around him, stroke his tender cheeks and watch him sleep.
We sang to him that he is a Child of God.
A bit of Heaven was in our little room
as I felt his warm, limp body pressed against my own.
Count your blessings if you can do that without tubes and wires and machines between you.
.
For anyone keeping score we are two tubes down today.
Bye bye to the peripheral IV line in his ankle.
Good riddance to the arterial line in his bloody little wrist.
We will not miss them.
But we reluctantly welcomed two more necessary peripheral IV lines.
One in his left ankle. The other in his right hand.
We still do not know what is causing the seemingly unexplainable decrease
in his neurological functions today, as opposed to yesterday and the day before...
I have a hunch, but I'm not a doctor.
I'm just the Mommy.
Thank heaven I get to be the Mommy!