Evan’s story – Part II

The room had finally cleared.  It was just me, the nurse and Craig.

Our families were waiting in the lobby, anticipating the news of the arrival of the newest member of their family.

Text messages were coming in – asking how things were going.  So many people praying for us, cheering me on, getting ready to love my Evan.

I was empty.

I didn’t know how to feel.

Joy?

Fear?

Our families walked in the room.  Each person hugged me as I cried and wept.

I wished so badly I could show them Evan.  Show them his perfect face.  Show them his pink body.  Let them hear the same cry that brought such joy to my heart.

But, nothing.  I was empty.

Small talk began amongst the families.  I tried to engage in the conversations but too heart sick to really care.

Craig decided to take a break and step out with his parents for a quick dinner.  He hadn’t eaten since breakfast.  I think hew knew I wanted some time with my family and some time alone to process things.

The NICU team told us that the Children’s hospital would be over to transport Evan via ambulance in a few hours.

My son was sick.  So sick he had to travel in an ambulance.  He was only minutes old.

The NICU nurse walked in and gave us his APGAR scores of 8 and 9.  Great scores…for such a sick baby.  Which goes to show that great APGAR scores are not an indicator for congenital heart disease.

Suddenly, I was signing papers. The transport team had already arrived.  They would assess Evan, get him stable, and then come in before they left.

The  NICU nurse looked at me and said,”They’ll bring him in an incubator for transport.  It’s scary.  It looks like something you’d see launched in outer space.  But, it’s what they need to get him there safely.”

Craig rushed back to make sure he was able to go with Evan in the ambulance. He’d be leaving me to be with him.  He’d be my voice, Evan’s advocate, our heart as he made the trip alone.

The man I gave my heart to many years ago…taking our newest broken heart away from me.

I had tried to envision the moment when they would take Evan to the Children’s hospital.  Tried to mentally prepare myself for the moment Craig and him left me.

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

The door swung open and I see a contraption that was holding my son.  It was so wrong…what needed to be holding him was me.

One of the transport doctors wheeled him over to me, opened up one of the windows…and I saw him.

Helpless.

So tiny.

Fighting.

Tears fall from my eyes.  Craig falls apart – no longer able to be strong for us.

I reach out, touch his hand, look at my son and through my tears and simply say, “I need you to fight.”

 

Comments

  1. Wow…you write exactly how I felt that day 2 years ago…amazingly beautiful. I am so glad you shared that day with us…it is such a bitersweet day in the life of a heart mom. Many prayers for your little Evan.

  2. Praying for your precious baby son and your entire family…

  3. The empty receovery room on the maternity ward is brutal, hearing all those other babies cry in the other rooms and being there all “alone” even if family is present was one of the worst things I experienced. But your son is a fighter and as soon as you are able you will fight right along with him. Get healthy and strong for him because he will need you. Praying for your little miracle.