And Now It’s 2 a.m.

The irony of life never ceases to amaze me.

On November 23 of last year, at 2 a.m., I was asked to leave my son’s hospital room because he was crashing and they needed to act quickly. A very kind nurse walked with me down to the family lounge and waited with me. She asked me questions about Charles, my family, where we were from. She did a great job distracting me.

And then she left to check on progress, and I absolutely lost all composure and called my husband in a hysterical mess at 2:30 a.m. (I had sent him home, I wanted normalcy of some kind for our daughter. Charlie was stable, so I sent him home.)

He asked if he should come back right away, I said no I still didn’t want to worry our sleeping little girl,so I told him to take her to daycare in the morning and come up after.

I proceeded to cry hysterically after getting off the phone. My anxiety climbed every second I sat there. My thoughts racing a million miles a minute. What are they doing? Is he ok? What if…? You name it I thought it. I prayed. I prayed hard. I begged and pleaded.

And then that nice nurse came back into the room and told me they were done, he was successfully intubated and sedated. The Doctor would be in shortly. I’m not sure where she came from, or her name, I have never seen her again, but I thank her.

I anxiously awaited, for what seemed like an eternity. And then the Doctor came, she sat down in the chair next to me. This was going to be one of those serious talks.

His lungs had filled with blood. His mitral regurgitation was so severe he couldn’t tolerate it. And his lungs had collapsed. “If we didn’t intubate him, he wouldn’t have made it through the night.” The words slapped me in the face, punched me in the gut, and squeezed the beating heart in my chest so tight I thought it would explode. She saved him. She and her wonderful medical team, they saved him.

It would begin the most depressing, frustrating, and trying hospital stay we would have. But I had him.

That date-November 23 at 2 a.m.- haunts me. It haunted me that day and it haunted me leading up to its anniversary. My anxiety running on high all of the dreadful November 22, when we had returned to the hospital with him the last year.

And now as we lead up to 2 a.m., on the 23rd, I’m riding with my son in an ambulance, in a snow storm, on a high anxiety trip. I can hear every rumble, every spray of slush, every slide. I can feel every slip of the wheels, every bump. We were even flagged down by someone in the ditch. But I can’t see more than a fuzzy car light out the window, into the dark of night. And once again I pray, I pray hard.

And while this year, less severe then the last (at least I choose to believe so), it comes with its own challenges and pains. It comes with the fear of spending Thanksgiving in a hospital once again, disappointing a big sister at home, and sleeping (if at all) on a plastic couch.

To the nurse in the ER that told me I handle it all so well, Thank you, thank you for saying that and for letting me tell you that I don’t always. Because there are days, like today, that inside, I can’t.

And now it’s 2 a.m.

2 thoughts on “And Now It’s 2 a.m.

  1. Caitlin Simon says:

    I admire your strength. I have been told that a million times too and had a really hard time believing it until now. As an outsider looking in at your story i feel like i have a whole new perspective. In moments like you have and are going through you dont feel the strength but its there. I can see it in your story. Your entire family. You are a gpod mom. One that i hope to be to my children. Charlie is a strong boy. I also have Crohns disease and have had my own set of battles but trust me when i say as a sick child I know it was harder on my parents than it was on me. Please know that you are all in my thoughts and prayers. I will continue to follow your story and will add you to our prayer chain network. Lots of love. GOD HAS THIS!

    Like

  2. Ana Beltran-Turbes says:

    Shelby,

    You are one of the kindest people I have ever met I was very fortunate to have you and Katie to help me learn the rigors that are early headstart interventions/visits.. Your scope of knowledge and kind nature were never unnoticed.. please know that just because we don’t call each mother etc. that our whole family is praying for you and your whole family.. May God Bless you all always

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s