I'll Never, Ever Forget the Look in His Eyes

Something I wrote to the girls on October 11, 2006:

I totally can't sleep, I'm having nightmares of his poor little face...so-this is therapy for me, and I'm going to write it out, so bear with me...I'd call you all right now, but 1. I'd just break down crying and 2. I'm sure you are fast asleep.

So, shortly after his noon bottle today, I went to change his diaper. We had spent the day playing, laughing, running around the house, you know-that sort of thing that stay-at-home moms typically do. Nothing at all seemed out of the ordinary, nothing at all felt "not quite right". I had even gotten off of a great gmail IM with AK- talking shit about our weight, and how much fun we were going to have this weekend.

So I'm changing his diaper, marveling at how wonderful he was after sleeping for a whole two hours. And then it happened- he threw up, all over his face. He's on his back. He coughed, sputtered, looked up at me, and threw up again. But this time, just as I'm picking him up to lean him forward, he coughs again and takes a deep breath IN. He stops, mouth caught in a way that he can neither breath in or out, and his eyes are wild. And I mean wild. I've never seen him so frantic. He looks like he's drowning. He starts reaching for me, grabbing at my head wildly, face frozen in total fear of the inability to take a breath. I'm getting scared now, and I bring him down to the floor. He's stuck, like he's choking- not crying, not making any noise from his mouth what so ever. But I know he's reaching for me to help him because his arms are flailing, grabbing at me, and his face....I'll never ever forget that look in his little eyes. For you nurses out there, it reminds me of times when you need to change a trache....they're totally helpless waiting for you to help them breathe again.

At this point I'm beginning to realize that he's in some serious trouble. It's too dark in the baby room so I scoop him up and run to the bathroom and flip on the lights. Fuck- he's gray and pale!! Not quite blue yet, but he's gray. He's getting there. I'm thinking at this point he just might die!!!! He's still not making any sound and the seconds go by like minutes-and I'm praying that he won't pass out. There's nothing in his mouth, but his face is covered with vomit, and it's coming out of his nose. All I can even think to do is hit him on the back. I don't know if it was the right thing to do or what. I'm hitting him on the back, saying, "please Ryder...please Ryder...breathe...god...breathe please please please please". He's still reaching for me and his eyes are still scared, but I hear a little breath. And then a cough. And then another little breath. And then another little cough. And now lots of breaths. Fast at first, and then quicker...and then....Thank god- the almight cry. "Thank you thank you thank you" was all I could muster- and who I was thanking, I'm not even sure.

I grabbed a towel, and with my heart just racing I picked him up and walked aimlessly around the house rocking him, soothing him, telling him that I was here and to please never do that again.

I called my freakishly tall husband immediately and in my state (nerves shot but not crying) I told him that he stopped breathing for five minutes. So not true, but it seemed like five minutes. I beg him to come home (then I starting bawling) and told him that I was going to call the doctor because I thought he aspirated.

He was home in 15 and we were at the Doctor's in 30. His lungs sound good, and he was an angel- causing the doctor to think that I was a complete neurotic psychopath.

I'm elated that he's OK..but I'm terrified of the look on his face that's going to haunt me forever. I felt utterly helpless and I still feel helpless now. I can't protect him from everything- especially from things like this and I want soo badly to. So I guess I'm writing to you guys because at one point or another you've all been here for me...what in the world would it be like if we couldn't? I'm also writing because I am just so emotional over what happened, that I'm philosophically thinking that anything you've ever known or loved can be taken from you quicker than when a ray of light disappears behind clouds. So- as I appreciate and love my son tonight (thank you, god, for letting me say good night to him), I might as well go ahead and say that I appreciate and love all of you because you just never know.

And so, when we got home from the doctor's- he smiles at me like nothing happened. Dirty rat.