Walking into the waiting room to check on my boy's new set up in the PCICU..approaching the window my eyes were drawn just past the front desk clerk and instant fear smacked me in the face. I saw my son on a bed, arms wide to his side, his lifeless little pale body at the mercy of the Dr.'s. A bag being squeezed by (at the moment) the most important hands on the planet. My tiny little boy was being manually ventilated or "bagged". I was horrified and as I gasped the tears began to roll while I asked what was happening. It had been 5 hours since he was taken from me..way too long for a parent to wait without any updates, but we wanted to give them the time they needed.
The receptionist completely lacking tact and compassion for the situation says "now don't you go doing that" in a tone as if my tears were annoying her. My heart began to thump hard in my chest as I turned my head and roared at her..."lady, that is my son and he is being bagged right in front of me..I NEED TO KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON?!". She got up and said someone would be with me as soon as possible.
The worst was rolling around in my head, my son had just died...my son is dead...what am I going to do..my boy is gone. A fellow came out and greeted me at the door just moments later. She said Mrs. Moore, I am so sorry you had to see that, Hudson was having a really hard time with breathing and we decided the best option was to intubate him before it became a necessity. Holy shit. How can something so serious happen and Shane and I have no idea? I had a million questions but just wanted to get the gist of what was going on, so I held my tongue. Shane had popped in twice to check if he was ready before this and they said they were still getting him situated. We by no means expected a Dr. who had hands on our son to stop what they were doing and run to educate us...but there are a lot of nurses in there and someone....ANYONE..could have given me a minute of their time. We deserved that..we definitely didn't deserve what had just happened.
I only caught a taste of the worst...and let me tell you, it is unbearable. It is everything you feel when that thought occasionally crosses your mind, for no good reason at times. Only 100 times worse, and I had a good reason. You know, the thoughts you would have as you read about other babies, or with no particular trigger you'd find yourself trying to imagine what it would be like if you were to lose your child. I'd be alone and a mess....but just like you, I could stop thinking about it..go to Emerson's room and watch her chest move up and down as she slept peacefully. I could stop thinking about it because it wasn't a reality. Now I face the thoughts everyday for my son, watch his chest move up and down only because a machine is forcing the air in, wishing it wasn't my reality.
I don't want to know what it's like...please don't let me have to find out. I'll ride this roller-coaster but I want to make sure we all get off when its over.
WARNING for my pics below, my son is intubated which may be disturbing to some.