The day we lost our sweet boy

It seems like a cliche but the day we lost our sweet Josh was a day that started out like any other. It was a Monday. I had been back to work for only one week after returning from maternity leave so we were still getting into the family groove of getting everyone out the door. That morning I was changing Josh as my husband got the other 3 kids moving. He took an extra minute to come in and tickle Josh while he was on the changing table, getting a few smiles and giggles out of him. As he and the kids left the house I was nursing Josh on the family room couch. I said goodbye to everyone and little did I know that was the last time our family of six would all be in our house together.
After I finished nursing Josh I put him in his carrier in the kitchen while I got my coffee and lunch together. I remember talking to him as he watched me with fascination - like me rushing around the kitchen like a crazy woman was quite entertaining. We left for his daycare. I was so lucky to have found a wonderful in-home daycare literally 2 minutes from our house in the next neighborhood over. That morning I got him out of his seat and gave him lots of kisses. I'm so thankful I did that because sometimes I would leave him strapped in his carrier if there was a lot of activity with drop offs so his daycare lady would have a couple minutes before she had to attend to him. But that morning I got him out and I told him "Mommy's going to miss you!" At the time I was thinking it would just be until the end of the day I'd have to be away from him. Never would I have imagined it would be the rest of my life.

Work that morning was pretty typical. I remember starting to feel like I was back in my groove at work - I had the week prior to get organized and now I felt in control. Around 1:00pm I texted Josh's daycare lady to check in. She said he was napping but he would probably be up soon for his bottle. I then got a text from my husband saying he was feeling uneasy about a tornado watch (of which I didn't know about) since our oldest was at an outdoor camp. My husband later told me that he was unusually anxious then - to the point where he couldn't sit still and coworkers were asking him if he was ok. He thought he was worried about the tornado watch but we think on some level he could sense something was really wrong. I texted him to go pick up our son from camp if he was that worried. One minute later I got a text from Josh's daycare lady saying, "Call me please". I had about 3 people standing outside my office talking to me when I called her. She tells me "Kelly he's not breathing!" All I remember was shouting into the phone, "He's not breathing?!", grabbing my purse and bolting out of my office building and sprinting to my car. She told me that the paramedics were there working on him. I told her I was going to call my husband so as I'm running I'm trying to call him. He picks up immediately and I scream at him that Josh isn't breathing and he needs to get to the daycare (he was only 10 minutes away while I was 30 minutes). I told him I'd call him back in a few minutes and then Josh's daycare lady calls back to tell me the paramedics were taking him to Duke. I then call my husband back and tell him to go straight to Duke. He wouldn't let me get off the phone, wanting to ensure that we both got to the hospital safely. I don't remember much about that ride except that I had my flashers on, I ran a few red lights, and it was pouring rain. I kept saying, "my sweet boy" (what I called Josh) over and over again and would start panicking. My husband got to the hospital before him and I could hear him shouting at the security guard as he ran into the ER. Then a social worker got on his cell phone and calmly stayed on the line with me, giving me directions of exactly where to go. I could hear them bring Josh in over the phone and through the phone I could hear my husband crying and shouting. I asked the social worker what was going on and she would only tell me that they were "working on him".

I pulled up to the ER and threw my keys to someone while a nurse or social worker met me at my car and rushed me in. The second I saw him I knew my sweet boy was already gone. I only saw part of his leg because there were so many people around him working on him. They ushered my husband and me into the room and someone told me to get up near his head. We were both screaming and crying and weeping like we never have before. I kept repeating, "my sweet boy" and stroked his arm and nuzzled his cheek while they continued CPR on him. My husband and I kept telling him we loved him over and over. I could hear the doctor giving orders to inject certain meds, to stop and check for a pulse. My baby was lifeless and colorless on the table and I knew he was gone. There was a pastor there so as they were still performing cpr I asked him to baptize him (Josh was supposed to be baptized less than 2 weeks later). For some reason I needed to have him baptized even though I knew he had already passed. The pastor quickly laid his hands on Josh's head and baptized him. Shortly after that I could hear them talk above me and the attending asked everyone if anyone had any other ideas or suggestions of what they could try. That was the moment when it really set in that this was really happening. No one had any ideas so they stopped cpr. All I remember was my husband crying in my ear and holding me up as I kissed Josh and held his little hand. The nurses quickly unhooked him from all the monitors and swaddled him and handed him to me as someone got me a seat. He still had the tube down his throat and as they gave him to me the tube made a gurgling noise. For a split second I had the irrational hope that he had taken a breath but it was just the leftover fluid trapped in the tube. My husband and I kept talking to him, saying how much we loved him and that we would see him again soon and we would never, ever forget him. We cried and wept and told Josh that he would always be with us.

Eventually they moved us into a more private room and a very sweet nurse and social worker remained with us as we cried and asked questions and let it sink in that we just lost our sweet boy. After awhile we were able to compose ourselves enough to call our parents. The social worker offered to do it for us but we didn't want them to hear the news from a stranger. It is awful knowing, as the phone is ringing, that we were about to totally alter our parents' lives. I then called my sister who lives nearby and she headed right over. We made a few more calls to get our other kids picked up and taken care of. We then spent more time holding Josh and just watching his perfect little face. The police came in to speak to us briefly and then the guy who takes care of the deceased came in. We also got a visit from a priest who performed a small prayer service while we held Josh. Looking back I'm glad we got to spend so much time holding him because it allowed us time to process and get over some of the initial shock of it all. I have never felt more hollow and empty in my whole life. I almost fainted at one point and had to lay down due to the physical toll my emotions were causing. We had to field lots of questions about the medical examiner, the autopsy, transportation of the body, and all sorts of details we didn't want to think about. Finally, the decedent care guy came with what looked like a box but they put a little baby blanket in which apparently is supposed to make you feel better about placing your baby in it. I wanted to put Josh in it because I didn't want this strange man we didn't know doing it. My husband and I whispered to Josh how much we loved him and kissed him and then we had to finally leave. It was so difficult to leave him there in that stupid box. It was so hard walking out of that hospital knowing that our life would be totally different from then on.

Somehow we drove home, completely numb. I was nauseous and almost threw up. My sister had picked up my younger two for us and my husband went to pick up our oldest who had been picked up from camp by a friend. We then had to sit down and tell our 3 kids that their youngest brother died. Jake, my 8 year old, and Ben, my 5 year old both immediately got upset. Leah, my 2 year old didn't understand of course but knew something was up since we were all crying. We sat there for awhile, letting the boys cry and scream and pound the floor and yell some more. It was a really sad scene and it was SO hard providing comfort to them and trying to reassure them that Josh was in a better place when I was so upset myself. Eventually we all calmed down enough to eat a little pizza brought over by my brother-in-law and I think we made some more calls and got the kids ready for bed. We offered for Jake and Ben to sleep in our room that night but only Ben wanted to. The details are fuzzy but I think we eventually just cried ourselves to sleep.

The details of what happened that day are pretty straightforward. Josh had a great morning playing, eating, and napping. He went down for his second nap around lunchtime. Sometime between the sleep checks by his daycare lady he had passed away. She immediately attempted CPR and we are so thankful she tried to save his life. We are heartbroken for her and the turmoil it has caused her to deal with this tragedy and the ensuing routine investigation by the state and other agencies. We tried to donate Josh's organs but were unable to since it was unclear exactly how long he had been gone for before being found. The hospital also gave us some booties and a knit hat as well as a blanket they wrapped him in. We refused all of it because we didn't want these meaningless things that were supposed to somehow make us feel better. The initial autopsy results can find no obvious problems with his organs or any signs of a physical cause for Josh's death. We will have to wait several weeks or even months to get the final results of the testing.

Although it's only been a few weeks since Josh's death, I have told people that day and the emotions and feelings that resulted from it are not something I would wish on my worst enemy. If there is anything positive that can be derived from such a horrible situation, it's two things I've learned: 1. I'm not afraid to die anymore, and 2. I now have the confidence that I can handle anything.

I don't plan for most of my blog posts to be this long but it is therapeutic for me to write out and remember the details of the day we lost our sweet boy. I'm not sure how often I will post or what I will write on this blog but it's a start for me on the road towards healing.