It was summer. I've always enjoyed my summers with the kids so much. This summer had been particularly fun because Tana was getting ready to start Kindergarten, could ride her own bike (with training wheels), and was a heck of a swimmer. The twins were at an adorable age--18 months. The Greeley County Swimming Pool had a zero-entry smaller pool for little ones. We had a double stroller that I was trying to wear out with long walks every single evening. Our little summer routine was perfect.
Tana was usually the first one up after Dad went to work. She was never very demanding--usually just content to turn on some cartoons until mom got up. With the twins still in cribs, mom usually had to get up fairly early. Thank goodness for long summer afternoon naps!
Heath was not home on this day. In July, starting when Heath was fairly young, he would go out to Hugoton to "help" Grandpa with wheat harvest. I know that Heath cherishes these memories of farming with Grandpa. This tradition continued throughout Heath's high school years.
With the baby monitor next to my bed, I slept pretty light and woke either because Tana came to tell me "good morning" or one of the twins had made some noise indicating they were awake. I came upstairs and peeked in on the twins. Sure enough, Annie was standing there holding on to the side of her crib, ready to be swooped up and loved. She was so sweet with curly brown hair and that dimple. I took her to the changing table and, while I was changing her into a fresh diaper, I glanced at Andy. Apparently he had just woke because he was still lying down but his eyes were open.
I picked up Andy and took him over to the table. Now I was juggling them both. When I finished changing him, I had one snuggled into each arm and walked into the family room. Tana starting asking me something, I was trying to round stuff up for breakfast, Annie was holding on, and I realized that Andy was slipping out of my arm. Silly boy, he was old enough to hold himself up while I multi-tasked! As I adjusted to get him in a more comfortable position, I really looked at him. The morning had been so busy that I had been distracted and never really gave Andy a good look. His eyes were glazed over, he was NOT holding on to me, and he was drooling.
I felt like I had been punched in the gut. After running back into the living room, I sat both him and Annie down. Andy fell over. Tana has always been very attentive and knew right away that something was going on. I don't know what words were coming out of my mouth. I'm sure I was trying to will Andy to snap out of it.
Immediately I ran to the phone and dialed 911. Then hung up. This was not happening. Nothing was wrong. I was over-reacting. With the phone in my hand and Tana watching, I sat Andy up again and begged him to be okay. I will never forget Tana saying, "He's okay, mommy. Nothing's wrong. He's okay." She was willing it to be true also. I called 911.
When the dispatcher answered, I told her that Andy was unresponsive. That's all I remember saying. It is a small town and everyone knows everyone. At that time we lived 2 blocks from the hospital and about 4 blocks from the courthouse. The Sheriff was at our home within seconds.
With all of us still in our pajamas, I had made it out to the garage. I was asking myself, "Why didn't you just drive him to the hospital?" The Sheriff took Andy from my arms and asked me if he was still breathing. Still breathing?! Well, of course he was still breathing! Honestly I'd never thought about him NOT breathing. My brain was not functioning properly. Andy's lips were turning blue. I'll bet a minute had not gone by when the ambulance got to the house. Immediately they took my son and sped to the hospital. I ran in the house, pulled on sweats, slipped on some flip flops, grabbed the girls, and sped after them.
Things are a little fuzzy from here on out. If you've ever been through anything this frightening, you probably know that time no longer holds any significance. It just does not move at normal speed. Your brain must pick and choose what it will process because the bulk of it is in a panic. I know that every wonderful doctor in our attached clinic was there, though. I remember seeing someone give Andy shots and he didn't even flinch. His little body just laid there on that hospital gurney. His oxygen level was down in the 70s.
I told someone that I needed to call Todd. We didn't have cell phones back then. It's amazing how quickly the area filled with concerned people. News travels so fast in a small town. I called Todd at work and one of his employees got him. When he picked up I said, "Something is wrong with Andy. We're at the hospital." He never answered me. He was gone. Later when we talked about it, he said he knew from my voice that something terrible had happened. He had just ran out to his pickup and sped into town as fast as he could drive. It was only 12 miles. He was probably there with 7 or 8 minutes...but during that few minutes I understand that I asked people around me, "Where is Todd? Why isn't he here yet"" several times. I remember someone saying, "Gina, you just called him." I couldn't believe that. Time was so messed up.
A mother of two of my students was there. She worked at the courthouse and had immediately come over when she heard something was wrong. Her daughter, Crystal, had just babysat the kids the day before. She hugged me and said, "It's going to be okay." I lost it. I remember yelling at her, "NO! It's NOT okay! Did you see him? He's NOT okay!" I've often reflected on that and realize that it was finally at this point that I let myself accept that this was really happening...that something was terribly wrong with my Andy.
Crystal also got there quickly and I remember quizzing her about anything the kids might've gotten into the day before. We just had no idea what was happening--or why. Had he gotten into something poisonous? Andy was always putting things in his mouth. Had he had a seizure? What was going on? How were we supposed to counteract it if we didn't know what it was? I know that she was also terrified.
God had us in Tribune for a reason. I firmly believe that Andy was in the best possible hands on this day with Dr. Bob Moser, Dr. Wendel Ellis, and Kathy Bangerter. Truly, they saved my son's life. Not just these doctors, but the quick response of the Sheriff Steve Schmidt, the EMTs, and the hospital staff. God had sent angels to watch over my child.
Reinforcements from Garden City were called. When the doctors felt Andy was stable enough, I rode in the ambulance with him for the 90 miles to this larger town. By the time we got there, Andy was more responsive and his oxygen level was back up to a safe level. I don't think the doctors there ever believed what we had been through. They could find no evidence that anything was wrong with Andy.
With so many unanswered questions, believe me when I say that I didn't sleep soundly. Within weeks, we took Andy to a Neurologist in Denver. It was decided that he must've had a seizure. However, the tests indicated that Andy had never had a seizure. Still we had no answers.
It took months and months for us to sleep soundly again. Often in the middle of night, I would enter the twins room and feel there little heartbeats and warm breath on my fingers. If they were ever too still, I would wake them.
To this day, we don't know what happened to Andy that morning. What we have been told is that if I had slept a little longer that morning, Andy would've been a SIDS baby. His body was just, for some unknown reason, shutting down. God had other plans.
Today Andy is 10. He's the smartest ten-year-old I've ever met, actually. He has this incredible understanding of things and a hilariously witty sense of humor. I can't imagine life without him.
Tana was usually the first one up after Dad went to work. She was never very demanding--usually just content to turn on some cartoons until mom got up. With the twins still in cribs, mom usually had to get up fairly early. Thank goodness for long summer afternoon naps!
Heath was not home on this day. In July, starting when Heath was fairly young, he would go out to Hugoton to "help" Grandpa with wheat harvest. I know that Heath cherishes these memories of farming with Grandpa. This tradition continued throughout Heath's high school years.
With the baby monitor next to my bed, I slept pretty light and woke either because Tana came to tell me "good morning" or one of the twins had made some noise indicating they were awake. I came upstairs and peeked in on the twins. Sure enough, Annie was standing there holding on to the side of her crib, ready to be swooped up and loved. She was so sweet with curly brown hair and that dimple. I took her to the changing table and, while I was changing her into a fresh diaper, I glanced at Andy. Apparently he had just woke because he was still lying down but his eyes were open.
I picked up Andy and took him over to the table. Now I was juggling them both. When I finished changing him, I had one snuggled into each arm and walked into the family room. Tana starting asking me something, I was trying to round stuff up for breakfast, Annie was holding on, and I realized that Andy was slipping out of my arm. Silly boy, he was old enough to hold himself up while I multi-tasked! As I adjusted to get him in a more comfortable position, I really looked at him. The morning had been so busy that I had been distracted and never really gave Andy a good look. His eyes were glazed over, he was NOT holding on to me, and he was drooling.
I felt like I had been punched in the gut. After running back into the living room, I sat both him and Annie down. Andy fell over. Tana has always been very attentive and knew right away that something was going on. I don't know what words were coming out of my mouth. I'm sure I was trying to will Andy to snap out of it.
Immediately I ran to the phone and dialed 911. Then hung up. This was not happening. Nothing was wrong. I was over-reacting. With the phone in my hand and Tana watching, I sat Andy up again and begged him to be okay. I will never forget Tana saying, "He's okay, mommy. Nothing's wrong. He's okay." She was willing it to be true also. I called 911.
When the dispatcher answered, I told her that Andy was unresponsive. That's all I remember saying. It is a small town and everyone knows everyone. At that time we lived 2 blocks from the hospital and about 4 blocks from the courthouse. The Sheriff was at our home within seconds.
With all of us still in our pajamas, I had made it out to the garage. I was asking myself, "Why didn't you just drive him to the hospital?" The Sheriff took Andy from my arms and asked me if he was still breathing. Still breathing?! Well, of course he was still breathing! Honestly I'd never thought about him NOT breathing. My brain was not functioning properly. Andy's lips were turning blue. I'll bet a minute had not gone by when the ambulance got to the house. Immediately they took my son and sped to the hospital. I ran in the house, pulled on sweats, slipped on some flip flops, grabbed the girls, and sped after them.
Things are a little fuzzy from here on out. If you've ever been through anything this frightening, you probably know that time no longer holds any significance. It just does not move at normal speed. Your brain must pick and choose what it will process because the bulk of it is in a panic. I know that every wonderful doctor in our attached clinic was there, though. I remember seeing someone give Andy shots and he didn't even flinch. His little body just laid there on that hospital gurney. His oxygen level was down in the 70s.
I told someone that I needed to call Todd. We didn't have cell phones back then. It's amazing how quickly the area filled with concerned people. News travels so fast in a small town. I called Todd at work and one of his employees got him. When he picked up I said, "Something is wrong with Andy. We're at the hospital." He never answered me. He was gone. Later when we talked about it, he said he knew from my voice that something terrible had happened. He had just ran out to his pickup and sped into town as fast as he could drive. It was only 12 miles. He was probably there with 7 or 8 minutes...but during that few minutes I understand that I asked people around me, "Where is Todd? Why isn't he here yet"" several times. I remember someone saying, "Gina, you just called him." I couldn't believe that. Time was so messed up.
A mother of two of my students was there. She worked at the courthouse and had immediately come over when she heard something was wrong. Her daughter, Crystal, had just babysat the kids the day before. She hugged me and said, "It's going to be okay." I lost it. I remember yelling at her, "NO! It's NOT okay! Did you see him? He's NOT okay!" I've often reflected on that and realize that it was finally at this point that I let myself accept that this was really happening...that something was terribly wrong with my Andy.
Crystal also got there quickly and I remember quizzing her about anything the kids might've gotten into the day before. We just had no idea what was happening--or why. Had he gotten into something poisonous? Andy was always putting things in his mouth. Had he had a seizure? What was going on? How were we supposed to counteract it if we didn't know what it was? I know that she was also terrified.
God had us in Tribune for a reason. I firmly believe that Andy was in the best possible hands on this day with Dr. Bob Moser, Dr. Wendel Ellis, and Kathy Bangerter. Truly, they saved my son's life. Not just these doctors, but the quick response of the Sheriff Steve Schmidt, the EMTs, and the hospital staff. God had sent angels to watch over my child.
Reinforcements from Garden City were called. When the doctors felt Andy was stable enough, I rode in the ambulance with him for the 90 miles to this larger town. By the time we got there, Andy was more responsive and his oxygen level was back up to a safe level. I don't think the doctors there ever believed what we had been through. They could find no evidence that anything was wrong with Andy.
With so many unanswered questions, believe me when I say that I didn't sleep soundly. Within weeks, we took Andy to a Neurologist in Denver. It was decided that he must've had a seizure. However, the tests indicated that Andy had never had a seizure. Still we had no answers.
It took months and months for us to sleep soundly again. Often in the middle of night, I would enter the twins room and feel there little heartbeats and warm breath on my fingers. If they were ever too still, I would wake them.
To this day, we don't know what happened to Andy that morning. What we have been told is that if I had slept a little longer that morning, Andy would've been a SIDS baby. His body was just, for some unknown reason, shutting down. God had other plans.
Today Andy is 10. He's the smartest ten-year-old I've ever met, actually. He has this incredible understanding of things and a hilariously witty sense of humor. I can't imagine life without him.
Well, the tears are still running down my face! Just reading that brings back all the scary situations with my own children. Whenever I want to strangled Sterling, he reminds me he's my miracle baby! I'm glad everything worked out with Andy/I enjoy reading your posts and looking at your pictures.
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