First and Last

As new parents, first time occurrences are often and usually exciting.

First smile

First laugh

First car ride

First bath

First time at church

First time with grandparents

First time with friends

First time sleeping through the night

First time at the park

First time at a restaurant

The list is endless.

Notice, I said first time occurrences are usually exciting. Like many others, I romanticize the idea of raising a child. I think about all the things I can't wait to do with him. I think about all the fun we will have and the moments we will share. I relish in all the first-time moments. Rarely do I entertain the idea of misfortune happening. The harder truths were absent from list:

First time in the ICU

First blood transfusion

First time under anesthesia

First medical procedure

First time thinking it could be your last time.

Unfortunately, this was our reality a few weeks ago.

After our son received his 2-month vaccines he began exhibiting some concerning symptoms –  a high fever, vomiting, loss of appetite and persistent diarrhea. Although the fever and vomiting eventually subsided, the diarrhea persisted. It got to the point in which our 12 pound baby lost over 2 pounds in less than 4 days. We knew something was wrong by the third day, so we took him to the emergency room. The doctors gave him IV fluids and checked some labs. His labs came back normal and they were able to rehydrate him. We were discharged that night. 

Prior to this illness, he had started sleeping 5-6 hours through the night. That night, something in my gut told me to wake him up in approximately 3 hrs to check on him just in case. I’m not sure what changed, but something happened over night. When I woke up I saw my son lying still with his eyes open. My first thought was that he had just woken up before me, but when I went to pick him up, he was limp. For 5 long seconds I panicked as the worst of thoughts went thought my head. I yelled his name and shook his leg.  By the grace of God he work up after a few moments. He was sleeping with his eyes open – something he had never done before. Nevertheless, I was relieved that he was alive. 

After talking to my wife we knew we had to take him back to the pediatrician and they recommended we go to the emergency room immediately. I was on board, thinking it would just be another one-night stay at the hospital. You know…pump him up with IV fluids, check some labs and we’d be home the next day.

We couldn't have been more wrong.

Things quickly began to escalate. When the results of the lab tests came back, the doctors realized things weren't looking too good. We were immediately admitted to the Intensive Care Unit. By this time my parents were with us. In the ICU the language from the doctors was different. They began saying, “ He is REALLY sick.” With an emphasis on the “REALLY”.They kept repeating that. Each time they said it, a little bit of fear crept inside of me. The thoughts of “the last time” were whispering in my ear. As moments passed, my heart became a little heavier. The truth I had to face was that we were in a place that many enter, but do not leave alive. I had to accept the reality that many patients had loved ones who prayed and supported them day after day, but their life was not spared. I had to ask myself, If God did not spare their lives, in what ways is my son more deserving?

Moments later, news came that our son required a central line. This was a procedure that required him to be put to sleep. For the first time, we were separated from our son. My parents, my wife and I were waiting in the family room. We all sat  in disbelief that this is happening to our son. I forced myself to sing songs of praise to stay strong and positive for my wife and family. I knew all I could do was pray so I called everyone together. Not long after I started praying, I broke down crying, I could no longer be “strong”. The tears rushing like a water main break. I did not know I was holding back that much emotion. Obviously, I really love this kid, and it was evident because my whole body and spirit was yearning for him to be okay in that moment. About two hours later, the procedure was over. The scariest part was behind us. Now we wait. Little did we know that we’d be waiting for 2.5 weeks.

Spending 2.5 weeks in the hospital, night and day, opened my eyes to a lot of things.

Final Reflections

Although I would not consider my son’s situation a light ordeal, I am very aware there are many families who would have traded places with us in a heart beat because their situation is objectively worse.

Not everyone has support like we did. As they say, “It takes a village to raise a child” and our village really showed out. Our tribe demonstrated its resilience during our time of need. Our parents were available to support everyday. We had additional support from friends, parents from the soccer team I coach, and members from our church. Our tribe brought us food, visited and checked-in often. On top of that, my employer was very understanding. Yemi always had a family member watching over him by the bedside. This combination of support is rare. We are truly blessed. It is quite possible that if not for this experience I would not be able to appreciate  the capacity of love that my tribe processes. This revelation is a blessing in itself and taught me how I can be a blessing to others in times of need.

Although this experience was traumatic, I know when I look back on this situation in the future the pain will be overshadowed by the blessings received. When this story is told, it will be about spiritual growth, answered prayers, and God’s love shown through the support of our family and friends.

In this season of life especially, we relish on the “first time” moments. However, it's the thought of the “last time” possibilities that truly bring things into perspective. It reminds you that all you have can be taken away. It reminds you of how fragile we are. And it reorients you to what is truly important. I’m reminded that in the Bible, the Lord declares that He is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and last. This experience taught me that not only is He the Alpha and Omega of time, but every season of life, and in all of our experiences. I’m reminded that at every point in the timeline, God is here with my family. Whether you are celebrating your first or in fear of the moments you consider may be your last, God is with us every step of the way.