The Son is always there

As I write this a family is grieving over the lost of their "heart" daughter. She went to be with the Lord while her mother cradled her in her arms. As I prayed for them, with them, sent words of encouragement, it brought back so many memories of the first time we almost lost Nicholas. We almost lost Nicholas twice in one year. Twice. There is no way to describe that fear and pain of losing your baby.

It was May 4th 2007. Nicholas had his heart surgery the week before and everything went well. We were thrilled. The surgery was done. His heart was in great shape. Now it was time for him to heal so we could go home and begin our life. A few months before his surgery, Nicholas came down with RSV. It wasn't bad. He was never hospitalized. It was more like a bad cold but it did damage to his lungs and caused even more congestion than his norm. Nicholas' left lung was highly congested and kept collasping after surgery. This could have been due to the RSV. Our daughter had RSV at 2 weeks of age and now has asthma due to the damage caused by the virus.

That day Stephen and I headed to Brenner for our first trip of the day. We always went from 9-2 and then came back around 4 or 5. We had a good visit with Nicholas. He was getting fussy. I remember telling them that he wanted a bottle. I cherish that comment now. His bottle-he never got another one. When it was time to go, Nicholas kept staring at me following me with his eyes. I couldn't leave while he was watching me. It broke my heart. I asked the nurse to get his attention so he wouldn't see me leave. I will never forget my precious son's eyes watching me for the last time.

We went home and spent time with the other children. This time we brought back my mom, my father-in-law and our two sons to visit Nicholas. The boys had not seen Nicholas yet and since he was doing so well we thought it was time for a visit. Megan was with a friend. We went straight to the intercom to get buzzed in. "Nicholas' parents-we're here for a visit." Our response was "just a minute." Okay, maybe he is getting new linens or something. We wait. Again, the same response. Well, nothing can be wrong, right? He was fine when we left. I start getting nervous even though my mind says nothing is wrong. My gut says something is terribly wrong. Then a parent in the waiting room says " A baby is coding. We have to wait out here until things calm down." No, it can't be. Not my baby. Stephen starts banging on the door. "Let us in. Let us see our son." No one could tell us what was wrong because everyone was with him trying to save his life. Nicholas' room was right in front of the door. When the door opens you can see his room-walls made of glass. Finally someone opens the PICU doors. " I am so sorry but I cannot tell you anything." Stephen holds the door open so I look inside. "No!" It is my son! His room is crowded with doctors and nurses. What happened to my baby? He was fine when we left. Dear, God, please don't take my son-please!

We finally get put into a private room and "our" nurses/friends come to talk to us. We are not sure what happened. Around 4:45 he started declining. We immediately started CPR and the surgeon is still working on him. This can't be-not Nicholas. I saw the looks on our dear friends faces, our nurses, his doctors. I knew it was bad, really bad. We are losing our baby. "Dear God, how can I live without my baby?" Please, don't take him from me. Please, don't take him from us. We call our friends-we need you, he needs prayer. They all immediately come. We are surrounded by support. Nicholas is surrounded with prayer. Finally, the surgeon comes in. We have him stable. He is on ECMO, life support. His lungs had collapsed, stopped working. His heart took on too much pressure trying to take on his lungs so his heart stopped as well. Right now, he is stable. He was without oxygen for a time so he could have some damage. His body was hit really hard. There could be permanent damage to his brain, kidneys, lungs, everything may not work again. We have to wait but....right now he is stable.

We went in to see him. He was cold. They kept his body temperature cold to help prevent any further brain injury. His eyes were wide open-unseeing. It should have been scary but it was a beautiful sight! My son was alive and that was all that mattered. The next week would be a roller coaster of emotions. They thought he started having seizures, a bad sign. His organs were not working when they thought they should. "Stephen and Lisa, you need to prepare yourself that Nicholas may never come home. He may not be able to come off of life support."

I remember washing his clothes knowing this could be the last time. Looking at his bed, next to ours, knowing he may never sleep in it again. I remembered his smell. His cheek against mine. His head asleep on my shoulders. The way we used to play peek a boo in the mirror. The way he started saying "mama" right before he went into the hospital. The way he would stare at me when he had his bottle. His little finger holding mine. His voice cooing at other babies. His laugh when daddy played with him. The way he adored his big brother finding peace in his arms. His little bottom when I changed his diaper. I remembered his eyes watching me, listening when I would sing "you are my sunshine" to him. When I told him everyday "Nicholas, I love you so much. I am so proud to be your mommy. I am so proud you are my son. I will love you forever and ever."

One day, as Stephen and I drove to Brenner, I looked up to see the sun's rays shining all the way to the earth from behind a cloud. Wow, isn't that beautiful? How come I never noticed the sun's rays like that? And, I knew then. Nicholas would be okay. Maybe not like before but he would live. I felt the Lord's peace. His arms are those rays of light. Reaching down to surround us with his love and strength. His arms are always holding us even in those storms. He never leaves-he is always there. We may not be able to see him because of those storm clouds but the Son is always there. Stephen and I began to cherish those rays of lights. They always seemed to shine down on Brenner-on Nicholas' room.

Nicholas turned around that day. His organs began to work. His heart beat above the ECMO machine and he came off after a week. He did suffer a brain injury but that is okay. He has gone above and beyond what they ever said he could do.

Cherish every moment with your children. Tell them everyday day how much you love them. Read them that book for the hundredth time if that is what they ask. Go play ball instead of being "too busy" Laugh with them, enjoy life with them. Cherish them. Most of all, teach them the love of Jesus Christ. And always remember, behind those storm clouds, the Son is always there reaching out his arms like the rays of the sun, to hold us and protect us. He will never leave us.