Thursday, October 30, 2008
Since we brought Evie home after her open-heart surgery, I can count on one hand the number of times she has been more than 100 feet away from me. Last night was girls-night-out for a girlfriends birthday. I gave Evie her meds, fed her and put her to sleep before leaving. (Oh, and checked the monitor twice to make sure C could hear her all the way downstairs.) Since its been 9 months since I’ve gone anywhere without a diaper bag, I couldn’t even find my purse to put my keys and cell phone in.
I got that sick feeling two miles down the road. I couldn’t reach behind my seat to feel her little chest rise and fall. The silence was deafening.
Resolved to have a good time, I continued.
I did finish a delectable piece of cake before my phone rang…I saw it was C calling.
“What’s wrong?” I answered. (C is “Mr. calm, cool and collected”, is very capable with the kids and I knew would only be calling if there were a reason!) He explained that Evie had woken up three times, her oxygen was way down and she seemed to be having some trouble breathing.
I got in my car and headed back grateful that most of the drive is back-roads and that it was unlikely that cops would be monitoring speed at this hour. I prayed. I tried to wish away the miles between her and I. I vowed not to leave her side for another six months.
I’ll admit it. When you watch your baby go through everything Evie has gone through, its easy to let your mind wander to the worst case scenario. The drive back seemed endless!
C had her peacefully sleeping after a breathing treatment when I got home. We had her on some oxygen for a while and her sats came back up. I checked fingers and toes for blueness. Listened to breathing. Evaluated heart-rate.
She was fine.
Such is life with these little heart-babies.
It means falling asleep watching the digital line dancing up and down on her monitor indicating her heart is beating
It means second guessing every gurgle, hic-up and coo from the back-seat.
It means worrying that every bug or infection could turn into something life-threatening
It means constant acknowledgement that every breath is a gift from the Lord
It means having home, beeper and cell phone numbers for 5 doctors that you are on a first-name-basis with
It means choosing not to go to church, the mall, a party because of exposure to germs
It means thanking God for the privilege of each dirty diaper I get to change
It means standing over her crib praying for another day to love her
It means thanking the Lord each morning when she wakes and smiles that He has given her another day
Evie’s new foot-less pajamas…thanks Auntie Rebecca!
And her pink toothbrush that she LOVES! Now we just need some teeth!