Everything can change. For me, in the blink of an eye on this day one year ago, my life would never be the same again. I would never be the same again. My daughter would never be the same again...
For those of you who are reading for the first time, you'll need to go back here to catch up.
I can remember this day so clearly and it still makes me feel sick. I was wheeled in a wheelchair with Noelle, down to an outpatient part of the hospital. We were taking her down to have her scheduled endoscopy/colonoscopy done. She had a pretty good night the night before and had been without a fever for about 12 hours, I was ready to get the show on the road as far as this procedure was concerned. The Doctors came out and talked with me, and My Doctor in particular chatted with me about how the procedure would take place with a child this small. I was in no way, shape, or form worried. I felt that she was in completely capable and caring hands. The anesthesiologist was a warm man, who not only seemed to care about my daughter but also had a really great joking manner with me and immediately had me at ease. I kissed Noelle goodbye as they put her to sleep, she didn't fight it at all, and she peacefully closed her eyes. I was quite calm as they showed me to the waiting room. Sitting in the waiting room, I looked around at all of the people. I felt oddly out of place. All of these people were clearly outpatients. They were all visitors waiting for their loved ones, or people waiting to be taken back for their appointments. I remember feeling very strange sitting there and looking at all of them. I was glad that I had brought a book with me... Delving into my book, I was not more than a chapter or so into it, when Noelle's Doctor came out to get me. I was amazed at how quickly she was done! I had no fear as I left the waiting room. Looking back to when Dr. L got me, he didn't look at me too much, didn't say too much. He led me quickly down the hallway to a consultation room on the right. Closing the door, and sitting down, I looked at him, and still had no fears. It wasn't until he opened his mouth that I noticed the tears in his eyes.
--I must preface all of this by telling you, this Doctor loved Noelle. It was ironic that he was on rotation when her procedure needed to be done. In earlier posts I had written about whether or not our insurance was going to cover our GI bills at this particular hospital. This particular MD went above and beyond, he talked with his Billing Dept and cleared things with them so that any bills that weren't covered by our Insurance Co. would simply be written off, we never did receive a single bill from this GI group.--
The tears in his eyes immediately sent my stomach into a frenzy, It was at that point that Dr. L said the words that haunted my days, nights, and dreams for months. "Mrs. Redden, I'm so sorry. There's been an accident." Never in my entire life, did I ever dream... EVER. That I would hear those words coming out of my child's, doctors, mouth. EVER. I had a complete loss for words at that point, and couldn't speak. I remember Dr. L saying things about a perforation, lower bowels, better place than most, clean area, stable now...Surgery Immediately... I had no idea what to do. I was alone. I had tears, but they wouldn't come. They were in my eyes, and I felt like it was appropriate to cry, but crying felt so futile, like the stupidest thing to be doing at that point. This man, who I trusted, had just ripped a hole in my child's bowels. Crying over it just didn't seem appropriate. I did cry, but it was forced. Only because I felt like he would think I was a bad mother if I didn't cry. For crying out loud HE was crying. I demanded to see my child. He told me that they were working on stabilizing her, and as soon as that was done they would call him. He encouraged me to call our family. I had NO idea of what Jon's phone number at work was. Making that phone call was by far one of the hardest things I've ever done. I had no information for him. However, when I heard his voice, it was then that I broke down. I realized how alone I was. How friggin' scared I was. Making the call to my Mom was equally as hard, hearing the terror in her voice, being unable to answer any of the questions she had... Knowing that I just wanted my Mom. I'm still in awe of the fact that I was able to make those two calls. Dr. L then walked me back to the Procedure room where there were no less than 20 people working on my 7 lb daughter. She looked tiny. She was on a vent, Our anesthesiologist now had 2 nurses and another anesthesiologist working with him. They were trying to let me know that she transitioned to the vent nicely, and that she didn't fight it at all. No problems there, she was doing well. Her belly was getting really swollen from the internal gases and I was shocked that from the hour that I last saw her, her belly had gone from normal to pretty hugely distended, they assured me that this was why they needed her in surgery ASAP. There was a surgeon who appeared, who would not be our surgeon but who explained the surgery to me as we were walking through the hallways. A patient advocate, who I think was there so that I didn't try to kill anyone, and a myriad of nurses and other subspecialty folks. It was all so overwhelming. All of this was going on while we were pushing through the hallways of the hospital, people gawking at my baby, gawking at me, seeing my face, knowing something had gone wrong. When we arrived where they would take her from me to go to surgery, our Anesthesiologist handed over the little plastic bag with our belongings in it. I took her blanket back out of it and insisted that they please keep it with her, and I didn't care if it got ruined or lost, it meant more to me that it stayed with her... As I sat down, I looked into the bag and saw the onesie that I had dressed her in, a mere 2 hours ago. It had been cut up both arms and straight down the middle just as if she had been in a tragic accident, only one sock was in the bag. It was THEN that I lost it. Unable to compose myself. My child HAD been in a tragic accident. And I hadn't been there for her, How on earth could I let this happen to her?? HOW?? Why?? Oh. My. God.
For those of you who are at this point saying, don't blame yourself... I'm not. I promise. I just wish so much that my child's first months of life could have been easier, that we together could have enjoyed them a little bit more. There was so much positive that came out of Noelle's situation... A lot of negative too... But to say that I want to close this door is an understatement. To know that my child is one year out from this tragedy is miraculous to me, to know that I am one year out is phenomenal... There are days, that it seems like just yesterday, but then I wake up and I see the transformations of ALL of my children, and I realize I blink TOO much...
I'm speechless, but just wanted to be present.
Posted by: canape | Monday, 10 December 2007 at 09:39 AM
Jess,
The one-year anniversary of the onset of Roxanne's seizures/first hospitalization was in October, and I wrote a similar post. I'm so glad Noelle is doing so well. My blog: http://talentedhands2.blogspot.com/
Posted by: Jennifer | Tuesday, 04 December 2007 at 10:04 PM
Your family is amazing and very inspiring. Hope you enjoy the holidays this year! God Bless you, your hubbie, and your 5 little monkeys.
Posted by: Leslie | Wednesday, 21 November 2007 at 04:52 PM
Glad that everything worked out for you!!
Beautiful Slideshow of your little girl!!!
Posted by: summer | Wednesday, 21 November 2007 at 12:08 PM
You have been through so much...I can see why you are such a strong woman, and I know you have the truest form of love for your beautiful children. They are blessed to have you Jess.
Posted by: Jeannie | Tuesday, 20 November 2007 at 01:42 PM
Your story brought me to tears as well. I remember how scared I was for you, your sweet baby, and your family when all that happened. I was so relieved when she improved!
I am also haunted by scary memories. It's been over a year since my then 2-year-old nearly died from a massive internal hemorrhage. I still feel sick remembering it. I don't know if a mother ever completely gets over something like that.
Thank you for sharing your story!
Melissa :)
www.withasmile.wordpress.com
Posted by: Melissa | Monday, 19 November 2007 at 11:59 AM
Amazing... a year, lots of prayers, and an enormous amount of strength. You were never alone for a minute... we were always there with you, in our thoughts and prayers. Praying for a miracle and here she is, God bless, Noelle. She is the image of beauty and strength. Thanks for sharing this wonderful part of your family with us. As always, Love-
Posted by: Katie | Monday, 19 November 2007 at 09:24 AM
My girls are asleep and it's all I can do to keep from running up the stairs to grab them out of their crib and snuggle & love them all night long!!!
You are such an inspiration...I cannot say it enough!! And I love Noelle's little widow's peak (my Chayse has one, too!)
You have a beautiful family :)
Posted by: Kirsten | Sunday, 18 November 2007 at 11:26 PM
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I'm so thankful that Noelle survived, is well and strong and embraced by your love. I thank God for caring for your dear little one.
Posted by: Joyce | Sunday, 18 November 2007 at 07:53 PM
I can barely type through the tears.. What a story you had to share. I am so sorry you had to share it but so glad you did.
Posted by: girl | Sunday, 18 November 2007 at 10:35 AM
Such a a wonderful story, I can't believe it's been a year. I'm a lurker but truly enjoy reading your blog. Not sure if you're a country music fan or not but there is a beautiful song out now by Kenny Chesney called "Don't Blink". Fits this story to a "T". Take a listen sometime if you've not heard it.
Posted by: Tammy Willingham | Saturday, 17 November 2007 at 10:23 PM
I never knew the whole story until now.
Amazing.
What a precious life. God bless you all.
Posted by: Julie M | Saturday, 17 November 2007 at 12:57 PM
oh my gosh. i can't believe you went through all of that. :( how awful, poor sweet pumpkin! i'm glad she's better now. you are so strong, i just can't imagine.
Posted by: pam | Saturday, 17 November 2007 at 10:21 AM
Has it already been a year?! Amazing how quickly time passes. I will never forget your story. It was something I prayed so hard over. I am so happy that Noelle's story has such a happy HEALTHY end. Sweet girl. I pray she never has any health issues from this.
Posted by: Tammie | Saturday, 17 November 2007 at 01:24 AM
I'm a new reader and had no idea that your family went through this. What a beautiful post honoring your girl! She's so precious. Thanks for sharing this story.
Posted by: Casey | Saturday, 17 November 2007 at 01:17 AM
What a tremendous tribute to the strength of your daughter! I absolutely loved the video, I felt it with my whole heart. Can you tell me the name of the song I love it?
Posted by: Keira | Friday, 16 November 2007 at 11:42 PM
I remember a similar experience. I will never see another conference room without feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness. My husband and my mom were there for our doctor/advocate conference about our son, but everyone kept looking at me. Our conference was for us to decide how many heroic measures we wanted taken to keep our son alive. Our options were to do everything possible and most likely have a brain dead baby or to basically sign a DNR and let our son die. I looked EVERY SINGLE PERSON in the eye and told them I couldn't make that decision, that I wouldn't. Helpless is such a bland word for the feeling. Two days later they asked me the same question. Nurses and doctors were on pins and needles scared to do anything but scared to not do anything. A day and half later, he came around and I never had to make the decision. But I don't like conference rooms anymore...
Posted by: Cryssy | Friday, 16 November 2007 at 05:44 PM
Remember that day a year ago.....hard to believe it's been a year already. Your miracle baby girl. Bless her!
Posted by: Erika | Friday, 16 November 2007 at 03:33 PM
Bless you! Your family is so precious and they are so lucky to have such a wonderful momma.
Posted by: Audrey | Friday, 16 November 2007 at 03:01 PM
I began crying as soon as you started this story and now I can't wait for my babies to wake up from their nap so that I can hug them. I have been reading your blog for so long I feel like I know you, your family has endured so much in the last year you are truely my hero.
Posted by: Misty | Friday, 16 November 2007 at 02:48 PM
in tears.... beautiful slide show. miss you!
Posted by: Jennifer | Friday, 16 November 2007 at 02:39 PM
What a beautiful little girl, and a story worth remembering. What a wonderful video tribute.
Posted by: kris | Friday, 16 November 2007 at 02:26 PM
I too am crying. I'm so so glad that she and everyone else is ok. I have of course heard it many times before, but now I know the love we feel for our children is like no other.
Posted by: Brandy | Friday, 16 November 2007 at 01:51 PM
Jess - you just truly amaze me. The video of Noelle made me cry, she is so beautiful and truly a miracle.
Thank you for sharing your feelings.
Love,
Kelli
Posted by: Kelli | Friday, 16 November 2007 at 01:25 PM
Oh how precious.
Posted by: denise | Friday, 16 November 2007 at 12:07 PM