It has been a while since I have written anything. Last Sunday we had a little experience that really threw me for a loop. We had just had dinner with some friends and came home to meet with our home teachers before Dave went home teaching.
*(Side note: In our church we have a program where the members are assigned a partner and families to visit once a month. You go to their homes, share a spiritual thought, and just visit, find out what is going on with their family, if they need anything, etc. It's our way of making sure everyone is taken care of, I guess you could say. When the men go out, they are called Home Teachers and visit families. The women also go out and visit other women, and they're called Visiting Teachers. So every home potentially gets two visits a month. I would venture to say that the Visiting Teaching visit is a little longer and lets you find out a lot more because we need girl time and love to talk a lot more than boys! ;-D)
Anyway, after our visit with our home teachers, Dave ran out the door to meet his companion and go visit his families. I sat down to feed Abby. When I got done feeding her, I had to run to the bathroom, so I propped her up on some pillows.
I could hear her starting to cry, and I was hurrying, but when I was finishing washing my hands, her cries turned into uncontrollable screams. I ran out and picked her up, thinking there was surely something wrong. But as far as I could see, she looked fine. Still, she was screaming and almost in hysterics.
I pulled her towards me and a few seconds later, her screams were cut off and followed by silence. I pulled her back and looked into her face to see her wide eyes filled with fear. Her face was turning red, and I realized she was not breathing. I said her name over and over and asked if she was okay. I pulled her into me and tried patting her back, wondering if she needed to burp or had some air stuck or something. But what was running through my mind was, "What in the world? What can I do? What will I do with Isaac? Could this really be it? No time to prepare, no time to say goodbye? Dave isn't even here, and he won't even see you. Could it really be over this quickly?"
Just then she coughed and then let out a short, loud scream. I started looking for my phone to call Dave and tell him to come home immediately, just in case it happened again. My phone was dead! I ran into the kitchen and plugged it in and dialed his number. He didn't answer. I hung up and dialed it again, but then her cry stopped short again, and I looked at her to see her face was again turning red. I hung up and pulled her to me and started patting her back. It kept getting darker and darker - nearing what you might call purple. I started to cry and pray. I didn't know what to do.
Just then she again coughed and then started to cry. Dave called back a second later, and I told him what had happened and asked him to come home right away. He did. But she didn't do it again. She calmed down, her coloring returned to normal, and she looked at her crying mommy like, "What's going on, Mom? Life's good. I'm fine."
Megan (the wife of the family Dave was home teaching) called and told me Dave was on his way and asked if I wanted her to send her husband over to give Abby a blessing with Dave or have her come and sit with Isaac while we took Abby to the hospital. I told her I'd wait and see what happened when Dave got home and how things looked.
I called the Family Birth Center and explained what had happened, asking if it could have something to do with the new formula for her reflux and what we should do. The nurse shrugged it off, saying she probably just didn't like the taste of the formula. Okay - dumb answer. Check. Don't call Family Birth Center next time your child stops breathing.
Dave got home and rushed over to me, taking Abby from my arms and cuddling her and talking to her and telling her over and over how much we loved her. Then he got online and researched to see if he could find anything similar out there. We found out that it is common for babies with reflux to stop breathing and can last anywhere from 25 to 45 seconds. It didn't look like there was really much we could do other than prop her up (which we already do) and just watch her. Great. Just what you want to hear as a parent, right?
To be honest, I was still a wreck. Just looking at her moved me to tears! I really had been so scared, and it really had thrown me that it all happened so quickly -- was even over so quickly. We called Megan back, and Jason came over to give Abby a blessing with Dave. The Spirit was so strong, and I felt really calm, really peaceful, reassured that it was going to be alright. Again, I was so thankful for the power of the Priesthood in our home and what it meant that frightening night.
You know, this is the first time I've looked death in the face on these terms. Granted, my daughter wasn't really that close to dying. But in my mind, it was a possibility. And the only other times in my life when it has been a possibility happened to people who were either older or had been sick for years. I can take death on those terms because I'm ready for it and I know what happens after one dies and where they go and that they will be resurrected and I will see them again. No big deal, right? I mean, you will miss the time you want to spend with them here, but you know you will have them again and that they aren't that far away. And for the most part, they've been people who have watched over me in life, so I easily assume they will watch over me and be near in death.
But a child? My child?
It hasn't been that long since she entered and -- some days at least -- took over my life. To think that it could be over in the blink of an eye . . . . It just really reminded me that life is fragile. There are no guarantees on our time here.
I once read a talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland (one of the 12 Apostles in our church) in which he said that God keeps in His hands control over when we enter this life and how and when we leave it. He doesn't give that power to anyone else; our life is a gift from Him. Some may try to take that power over ending life into their own hands; but they commit one of the greatest sins in doing so. It is a sacred power that belongs only to God. And when we, as parents, decide to become parents, we share that sacred power of creating life with God. And then we share the sacred responsibility over that life with Him for the duration. I guess that means we also have to trust the other side of it -- when He will decide to take that life away. But it wouldn't be easy at first to trust Him.
Even so, I know that after a time, I would find great comfort in the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I would find greater comfort still in the knowledge I have that Christ overcame death and that I would have my daughter back again. Even now the thought of having to rely on that knowledge to find peace were my daughter or son to be taken brings tears to my eyes. But at least I would have that knowledge to rely on. And after the tears subsided, or at least decreased, I would find joy in that knowledge as well.
I am so thankful for the Atonement, for my Savior, and for the opportunity that I have to live and to create and grow in this sometimes fragile life! And today, that brings me so much joy -- joy greater than whatever else might have been troubling me! It is so great to be alive!
