I hold my son a little bit tighter than the others. His nature is inherently affectionate, but the real reason is that I came so close to losing him. Not in a shopping mall but due to an unexpected illness. My eldest child, at just four years old, nearly succumbed to croup.
An Ordinary Night
It was an ordinary October Friday night three years ago. He had caught a cold, and we braced ourselves for the inevitable first bout of croup for the season. After settling our two boys into bed, I stepped out to purchase a humidifier. When I returned about half an hour later, I set it up in their room and heard the unmistakable sound of labored breathing. I steeled myself for the night ahead, expecting another trip to the doctor in the morning after a restless night. We had experienced this scenario countless times.
A Frantic Moment
About 15 minutes later, I heard an alarming noise coming from their room and rushed to check. To my horror, I found my son thrashing in his bed, struggling to breathe. Without hesitation, I scooped him up and carried him into the living room. Within a minute, he was flailing in my arms, his skin turning blue, and I frantically dialed 911. As I spoke with the operator, he stopped breathing, and the call quickly shifted to instructions on how to perform CPR. I can still vividly recall those moments. We laid him on the floor near the front door, where just moments before we were preparing to rush him to the emergency room, and my husband began CPR on our young son. I stood frozen in fear, as his entire life flashed before my eyes, and I couldn’t fathom that this could be the end. Just like that? So fast?
The Arrival of Help
My horrifying thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of 10 firefighters. I was unaware of the sound of the two fire trucks and ambulance as they pulled up outside. They lifted him up, took him into the living room, cut off his favorite green pajamas, and began their work. I felt utterly powerless as my child’s life slipped from my grasp. Oddly enough, my mind focused on how interesting it was that they needed his car seat to secure him to the gurney. I had never seen that before. In no time, they wheeled him out to the ambulance.
Critical Condition
He was in critical condition, his oxygen levels alarmingly low. Right there in front of our building, in the back of the ambulance, they intubated him while strapped into his Cowmooflage car seat. My husband and I sat on the curb, surrounded by onlookers, tears streaming down our faces. Once the procedure concluded, I jumped into the front seat of the ambulance, and off we sped to the Children’s Hospital. Those 15 minutes felt like a lifetime. I asked the ambulance driver if my son was going to survive. (The stories those firefighters must carry!) He assured me he’d be okay. And he was.
A Full Recovery
After several days in the ICU and a hefty dose of steroids, he made a full recovery, with no lasting damage.
The Transformative Experience
Describing the experience of nearly losing a child is almost impossible. It’s a profound sense of helplessness, akin to reaching for a rope just out of reach while plummeting from a great height. In an instant, you realize the depth of your love for this child and how profoundly he has shaped your life. You quickly understand that life without him is inconceivable. The relief when he pulls through is not just a deep breath; it’s akin to gasping for air after being rescued from drowning.
Reflections
Three years have passed, yet each October, I feel a wave of emotion wash over me. I sometimes relive that dreadful night. I still keep that green pajama top, cut down the middle. I can’t bear to look at it but can’t bring myself to part with it either. It serves as a tangible reminder of the miracle of his survival. Although I didn’t hear the sirens that night, I flinch whenever I hear them now. I have an overwhelming urge to hug every firefighter I encounter. The thought that if I hadn’t gone in to check on him, I might have found him lifeless the next morning still haunts me.
A School Assignment
Recently, my son brought home a school assignment to create a timeline of his life. We dusted off the photo books I compile for each child annually (my sole hobby these days). As he read them aloud, laughter filled the room as he reminisced about his baby and toddler years. Then he reached the section about the night he almost died—a night he doesn’t even remember. As he read, he paused, tears streaming down his cheeks. He stopped to give me a hug and a kiss.
And then, without skipping a beat, he turned the page and continued. That simple act of turning the page symbolized so much for me. He is still here, and his life moves forward.
Resources
For those interested in exploring more about home insemination options, this is a great resource. If you’re looking for excellent information on pregnancy and infertility, check out this site.
Conclusion
In summary, the experience of nearly losing a child is profoundly transformative, instilling a deep appreciation for life and love. It’s a haunting reminder of vulnerability but also a celebration of survival and resilience.