I was asked which hospital I wanted Son #7 to go to, of course I wanted him at the hospital that knew him, the one he was born in. I was told he was too critical to make the 20 minute trip, so it was decided to take him to the county hospital. The children's hospital is across the street and we knew he would be sent there once he was stable and had permission to be transferred.
My neighbor called my hubby at church to let him know we were on our way to the hospital and he needed to get there as soon as possible. He went back to gather the family and was nearly dragging them out of the sanctuary. One of our friends stopped him long enough to find out what was going on. They offered to take the family back to the house while he went to the hospital. Our neighbor kept the two daughters that were at home.
Our ambulance ride to the hospital was rather slow. They could not go very fast since Son #7 was too tiny for the straps on stretcher. It seemed like the trip took forever, yet we live less than five miles from the county hospital. On the way he coded a second time.
I knew there was no barginning with God. As much as I wanted my son to live I knew it was not what I wanted, but what God's will was for my family. If God decided to take Son #7, He would give us the grace to go through it. I had complete peace, one that would have to carry me through the nightmare we were facing.
I was informed by the paramedics there would be a team of about 15 doctors and nurses once we got to the hospital. He wasn't kidding. I could not believe one little baby would need so many medical personnel.
Once he was in the triage a doctor pulled me aside for his history and what transpired at home. I told him everything including that his hematocrit levels when we left the hospital. (At one point in the NICU his crit was too low and he was close to tranfusing.) The doctor asked me if I was a nurse. I chuckled and told him that Son #7 was my second preemie and the 13th child I had given birth to.
I was ushered out of the room so they could start a spinal tap and draw labs. By this time Hubby and three of our sons were waiting for me in the hall, and soon after our pastor and wife were there also. They had no idea what had happened and I had to relive and tell the nightmare all over again.
Once Son #7 was stable enough to move, they had permission and transported him across the street to the children's hospital. I could not believe the mobile transport for an infant. The incubator, the equipment, it was like a mini NICU. I rode in the ambulance while the family, the pastor and his wife walked across the street. The few hours seemed like a week!
My neighbor called my hubby at church to let him know we were on our way to the hospital and he needed to get there as soon as possible. He went back to gather the family and was nearly dragging them out of the sanctuary. One of our friends stopped him long enough to find out what was going on. They offered to take the family back to the house while he went to the hospital. Our neighbor kept the two daughters that were at home.
Our ambulance ride to the hospital was rather slow. They could not go very fast since Son #7 was too tiny for the straps on stretcher. It seemed like the trip took forever, yet we live less than five miles from the county hospital. On the way he coded a second time.
I knew there was no barginning with God. As much as I wanted my son to live I knew it was not what I wanted, but what God's will was for my family. If God decided to take Son #7, He would give us the grace to go through it. I had complete peace, one that would have to carry me through the nightmare we were facing.
I was informed by the paramedics there would be a team of about 15 doctors and nurses once we got to the hospital. He wasn't kidding. I could not believe one little baby would need so many medical personnel.
Once he was in the triage a doctor pulled me aside for his history and what transpired at home. I told him everything including that his hematocrit levels when we left the hospital. (At one point in the NICU his crit was too low and he was close to tranfusing.) The doctor asked me if I was a nurse. I chuckled and told him that Son #7 was my second preemie and the 13th child I had given birth to.
I was ushered out of the room so they could start a spinal tap and draw labs. By this time Hubby and three of our sons were waiting for me in the hall, and soon after our pastor and wife were there also. They had no idea what had happened and I had to relive and tell the nightmare all over again.
Once Son #7 was stable enough to move, they had permission and transported him across the street to the children's hospital. I could not believe the mobile transport for an infant. The incubator, the equipment, it was like a mini NICU. I rode in the ambulance while the family, the pastor and his wife walked across the street. The few hours seemed like a week!
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