Thankful

Yesterday Luke and I took Jack to his follow-up appointment with his pediatrician, Dr. Mukundan, and I am so very happy to say that he thought Jack looked awesome!

He said for now we'll call what happened Saturday a "spell", and hope it never happens again. If it doesn't, Dr. M is inclined to think it was "intussusception", where (help me out, medical friends) part of one's "gut" temporarily folds into itself (he described it like one of those water weenie toys) and is very painful - so painful that in babies, they'll sometimes go into a shock-like state.

Anyone remember Water Weenies?

Either way, he told us that Jack looks as healthy as a little boy could look, and that he's not worried about his health at all for now. Whew! Maybe Luke and I will start sleeping again now. :) We have never been so thankful for good medical care, and caring, careful doctors. We have made some friends for life, and have more than a few thank you notes to write and cookies to bake for all those who helped us, literally, along the way. 

You know, just before Jack woke up from his nap on Saturday, Luke and I were talking about him, and I was telling Luke that ever since two of our acquaintances lost their little boys, I've had to adjust my perspective on raising Jack. When he was first born, I would think about his whole life ahead of him -- learning to walk, losing his first tooth, starting kindergarten, going to prom, heading to college, having kids of his own...and I was excited about the wonderful, and seemingly inevitable things we would get to walk through with him. In recent months, I've been reminded through watching those around us that, unfortunately, long life and health are not promised for us or for Jack. We are just called to love him and enjoy and be thankful for every moment we have with him. 

When I was holding my son's limp body in my arms on Saturday, begging him to open his eyes and look at Mommy, I was acutely reminded of the words I had just spoken. We prayed in the car that God would restore health and life to him, and we are thankful beyond words that He did. And so, after the appointment yesterday, we headed to one of our favorite places, Pinkerton Park, to swing in the sunshine and breeze and celebrate another day of beautiful, wonderful, life together.

Thank you, God, for our sweet, stubborn, funny, mischievous, crazy-haired, fantastic little boy.

I Think He Feels Better

His Eye is on the Sparrow

So, Jack has been has a pretty healthy little guy so far. No issues when he was born. No ear infections. No stomach bugs. Even his little sniffles have never turned into full-fledged colds. So, I was thinking we may just avoid sick visits to the doctor or ER for a while longer. I was wrong...

* * *

Jack was a little cranky all morning, so we put him down for his afternoon nap a little early. When he woke up, he was crying. Not his usual "come and get me" cry, which turns into a grin once we come into his room. Instead, it was a red-faced, lip-quivering, sad, loud cry. I held him and asked him what was wrong. I tried nursing him, but he wriggled down the floor and laid on the ground crying. When I picked him up, he wouldn't be consoled. He began screaming out loudly, as if in pain. I assumed his first tooth coming in was bothering him, so I gave him some Children's Tylenol and then quickly took his temp (which was normal) in case he had a fever I couldn't feel.

Still, something was wrong, so I called Mom. She said to offer him some of his favorite things and see if he'd be consoled by them...so I offered Puffs, then watermelon, and then a bath...he didn't want to eat his favorite treats, and just laid his head on the floor of the bathtub while it was filling up. I got him out and called the pediatrician. I got the message, and was trying to listen to the number to call for the answering service when Jack went limp in my arms. His little face and lips turned white, his skin was cold and clammy, and he closed his eyes, and wouldn't open them when I called his name. I shook him and screamed his name, and he opened them and looked at me, but didn't seem to see me. I yelled to Luke that something was very wrong. He took Jack, I slipped on shoes and grabbed my purse (but no diaper bag!) and ran to the car to head to the closest hospital, Williamson County Medical. 

Luke was driving like he was running code at work, and called his mom, who works there, to let them know we were coming. As we were driving, Jack became paler and less responsive. By the time we got to Mack Hatcher and Cool Springs, he wasn't responding at all, and I called 911 to ask if there was anything I could do besides get to the hospital as fast as possible. Just as the (excellent) dispatcher was telling me to pull into the fire station on Hwy 96, Luke was calling to me, "If they tell me to stop, I'm not going to!" I told the dispatcher, "My husband is a cop and he said he's not going to stop 'til we get there." Luke was confident he could meet an ambulance on the way faster than if we pulled over to wait for one. The dispatcher said "I don't care who your husband is, you need to pull over at the fire station, and they will help you right now." I asked "Will they get us an ambulance?" And he said, "Yes ma'am. We'll have one right there. I'm calling them now."

As Luke careened into the fire station, I was checking Jack for breath and we could smell our van (As Luke said, it might need a tune up). Now is the part where we take back every witty retort we ever spoke about firefighters. :) They. Were. Awesome. As we ran up to them, Jack opened his eyes and vomited...all over Luke and all over one of the firemen's uniforms. I can't imagine Luke being more excited to be soaked in vomit. That was the first moment we thought Jack was going to be ok. He was still limp in his daddy's arms, and very pale, but he was responsive, and even tried to pull away from the tiny oxygen mask they gave him. For the first time, I loved his stubborn streak. 

The ambulance was there immediately. Jack didn't even resist lying down on the gurney and being examined and monitored. It was almost like he knew he was sick and wanted the help. When starting an IV, they couldn't get one in his arm, or his little hand, no matter how hard they tried, so they put a line into his foot. While he didn't like that, he also didn't resist as those who know Jack might guess he would. He just cried. While Luke answered questions and watched what they were doing, I wiped his little tears away and sang "Jesus Loves Me". It was so good to hear him cry. 

I had texted my mom to call the pediatrician for me, and the ped on call called us back and told us to go on to Vandy (Luke's mom's recommendation as well). Only one of us could ride in the ambulance, so Luke followed right behind us. Jack liked being able to see Daddy the whole way. On the way there, they gave him a bag of fluids and checked his glucose, which came back ok. 

Once we arrived, Jack was looking more like himself and even gave the EMT a half smile. I told Jack that we were where his momma was born and they were going to help him feel all better. The staff couldn't have been nicer or more professional. After examining him, running an EKG, and observing him for a few hours, they determined that he was stable and ok to be released, but didn't have any answers for us. At first they thought perhaps it was an infection, but he didn't have any fever, and he was 90% himself by the time we left. They wondered about a seizure, but he was missing the classic seizure signs, and again, no fever -- even after the Tylenol wore off. So, they left us with two guesses: perhaps he became acutely ill from a virus or something, or more remotely, perhaps he has Supraventricular Tachycardia (SVT), which would have caused his heart to race, not allowing enough oxygen through his system, until a "shock" to his body (ie, vomiting), helped everything get back on track. (Doctor friends, correct me if that's not quite right.)

We will go see our ped tomorrow at 11:30, and are just supposed to keep a good eye on him until then, and respond the same way if the symptoms show themselves again. (Except for maybe with with less screaming on my part. ;)  ) We are praying it was just something in his system that's now gone, but I'm buckling in for the ride that is raising little boys -- or kids for that matter. 

Thank you for your thoughts and prayers for little Jack, and praise our wonderful God that Jack is back home with us today, getting into everything he can get his hands on. 

“Let not your heart be troubled,” His tender word I hear,
And resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears;

Though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.