The Emergencies Came 2 by 2

I always imagined that if I had to call 9-1-1 someday, I would handle myself in a calm and collected manner and convey my needs to the operator without losing my head. I learned today that in an emergency situation, I lose my mind completely. At least I was lucid enough to place the call. Twice.

We arrived in Canada last night and hoped to spend today hiking, picnicking, and skipping rocks in Waterton National Park. Instead, we spent it in the Emergency Room.

I had just finished packing our bag for the day when I heard Conway frantically repeating Marley's name. I came running into the room to scold him for scaring me when I noticed that my beautiful, precious, fragile, perfect little girl was lying unresponsive in his arms. Her eyes had rolled to the back of her head, her eyebrows were shifting up and down, her body was convulsing, and she was breathing through labored, grunting breaths.

I screamed for help and called 9-1-1. Luckily, my mother-in-law came running into the room and was able to take over the phone call. I was completely frantic and panicking. I felt helpless and useless just wanting to make her feel better but being completely incapable. Conway gave her a blessing and I cried a prayer in my heart that my baby could be saved.

The paramedics arrived and put my sweet little girl on oxygen and strapped her to a gurney. I grabbed Baby Cohen and jumped into the back of the ambulance to rush my little girl to the ER in Lethbridge (34 kilometers away).

Marley was unresponsive for most of the trip. They told me she could hear me so I sang. I sang my heart out hoping that she would recognize my voice and the lullabies that we have sung together so often.

Meanwhile, every horrible scenario was running through my mind. It was the longest drive of my life. (Feeling much longer than the twelve hour drive we had just taken from Utah to Canada.)

At one point she finally started crying and I was finally able to breath again. She had a large, goose egg on the back of her head and we assumed she slipped on Grandma's hardwood floor and hit her head. When she calmed down enough to look at me, I asked her for "besos" and she puckered her lips to give me a kiss. Another sigh of relief.

In the emergency room, they treated her for a head injury. They sedated her and gave her a CT Scan and x-rays. The results showed no signs of bleeding or broken bones. They monitored her for a couple more hours and then sent us home saying that she had suffered a severe concussion.

She rested most of the afternoon and watched some of her favorite movies. I didn't leave her side. When she asked for chocolate, she was given chocolate. When she wanted bubbles, we produced bubbles. If she wanted to hold baby Cohen, she held baby Cohen.

She was starting to act more like herself and was getting cheerful and active again, when we noticed that she was feeling really warm. Conway borrowed a thermometer from a neighbor and within ten minutes, her temperature ranged from 101 to 104 degrees. I started a bath for her to help reduce the fever and Grandma Bonny held her as I drew the water. When the water was ready, I looked up to see my beautiful, precious, fragile Marley in her grandmother's arms with her eyes rolled back and mouth bubbling with drool.

I shouted for Conway that she had gone unconscious again and ran for the phone. For the second time in my life and in one day I dialed 9-1-1. This time I was lucid just long enough to inform the operator that my two year old baby was unconscious for the second time today. I tried to hold myself together but it's impossible to see your precious little child shaking and grunting, unable to look at you and react to you and not panic in fear and horror. I hovered over her and pleaded with her not to do this to me again. I pleaded with my Father in Heaven to protect her and heal her.

In that moment, as I was praying with all my heart on behalf of my innocent child, I sent an additional prayer to heaven for all the mothers who have ached for their children. I had a powerful feeling of empathy toward the moms, some of whom are dear friends of mine and readers of this blog, who have either lost a child or have had to suffer with seeing their child struggle with health issues on a regular basis. I believe their spirits were with me through this whole ordeal.

I threw some belongings into a bag and for the second time in less than 24 hours, I climbed into the back of an ambulance to rush my little girl to the emergency room. This time, she came around much quicker. This time instead of me singing to her, I sang WITH her. It was the sweetest, most tender drive to the hospital. She sang every song with me as the paramedics (who were also falling in love with her) checked her vitals, and blew oxygen into her face. Conway, who was following behind us in the car, called me to check on her. I asked her to say hi to daddy and she produced the sweetest sounding, "hiiii!" anyone has ever heard. Upon arriving at the ER, she started reading all the letters written on the walls around her. By this time, the paramedics were ready to eat her up.

This time, they did blood work and took urine samples. They gave us a cool washcloth to help bring down the fever (which she hated). And they decided to admit us to keep her monitored through the night. By 1:30 in the morning, we were checked into her room.

I drove back to Magrath to feed Cohen and pump some milk for him for the following day. I returned to the hospital in the morning to see my little girl in a little hospital gown and hooked up to all sorts of monitoring machines.

They concluded that she had had febrile seizures. The concussion came as a result of hitting her head on the ground during her first seizure. The second episode was another seizure as a result of her high fever.

They sent us home in the early afternoon. Marley couldn't have been happier to say "Ciao!" to the hospital and doctors and monitors and needles.

Not exactly the adventure we were planning for our first couple days in Canada. But I couldn't be more grateful that my daughter is home. That she is healthy (considering). That she is happy. That she is safe. She is truly my little miracle. I am so grateful to be a mother, the roller coaster it is sometimes; there is nothing greater than to hold my babies in my arms and give them kisses and know that they are mine. Thank heaven for guardian angels. For prayers. For miracles. For my little babies.