Friday, August 18, 2017

The WORST Day

*Warning! This post contains the events of the day that Colt passed away. I had a friend send me a blog, not too long ago, that went through the events of the day she (the writer) had lost her baby girl to SIDS. She died nearly 8 years ago... but that blog post was the first time I felt like someone understood what I had gone through. So I decided to write my own post about MY worst day, and hope it may find its way to another grieving mother someday, and help them. 


Sunday, May 7th started like any other Sunday… Colt was wearing his plaid button down shirt and khaki pants. We took him and Graci to church, where he spent the first part with Nana and McKinley. He loved playing with them and Graci, but kept smiling at Richard and I when he would see us down the row. About half-way through the meeting, he got fussy enough I had to take him out. I bounced him as I walked up and down the hallway (just like every other Sunday). It took almost until the end of the meeting, but it finally happened… he fell asleep.
I usually sent him to Sunday school with Nana while Richard and I taught our class, but since I had just gotten him to sleep I took him with us. He slept for about half the class, cuddled in my lap. He hadn’t slept in my arms for a LONG time, and I remember feeling so blessed that I got to hold him while he slept again. Once awake, he stole the show! The kids had a hard time paying attention with his wiggly self in there. They laughed when he chewed on Richard’s fingers, were grossed out by the slobber he left on Megan’s key chain, and loved how he giggled whenever he looked at me as he crawled around our classroom floor. Tyler held him… awkwardly… and everyone laughed... It wasn’t the most reverent class time, but it was pretty fun! 
Then we went to Relief Society where he stood on my chair and talked to all the ladies behind us, played with his best church friend, and ate some of his yummy snacks. We made it all the way through Relief Society without a trip to the hall, which was a first for him! All the women made such a fuss over how happy and cute he always was.
                He went down for a nap right after church. We ate lunch and wrestled around the living room floor as a family. It seemed like the perfect Sunday. Later, Richard and I went outside to relax on the porch swing. After a short while Graci came down and told us Colt was awake. We went back inside and found him crawling all over the living room. Richard fed him while I went on a walk up the canal road. I didn’t walk on this road much because it was too hard to push a stroller on, but it was my favorite place to go.
This time, however, I felt strange... The thought kept coming to me, “This is going to be the worst day of your life”. It played over and over in my head. I couldn’t shake the feeling that a rattle snake was going to bite me, but made it home safely. I didn’t think too much of it, though, because that saying had been in my head quite often the past two weeks. Just two Sundays ago we had a guest speaker in class, who talked about the day he tragically lost his mother and sister in a double homicide. The Lord had been with him through the whole thing, and he distinctly heard those words that had been repeating in my mind on the day he found them dead. They stuck with me…
 When I returned, I found Richard and Graci, outside, trying to fly her kite, while Colt was inside with everyone playing on the floor. He wasn’t up for too long before he started getting tired again. (Sunday’s were a little hard because they messed up our routine.) I swept him up from the floor and took him into our room. He snuggled on my shoulder for a moment when I gave him his favorite turquoise blanket. Then I gently laid him down in his crib, put his blanket on his left side just how he liked, and whispered ‘I love you’. He slowly rolled to his right side, looked up at me with a sleepy smile, and closed his eyes. I walked out of the room and shut the door behind me, not knowing that would be my last interaction with my son.


                We ate dinner, and I went out to the trees to lay in the hammock. Colt had been asleep for about 2.5 hours. I was only in the hammock for 5-10 minutes before I heard strange noises coming from the house. After a few seconds I thought I heard screaming and my name being called out. Something told me there was something horribly wrong. I ran as fast as I could to the house and I kept yelling, “what is going on?” to my family that was out on the deck. Nobody knew… I stepped inside and my brother, Devin, told me to “Get back there now!” and pointed towards my bedroom. I rounded the corner to the hall and saw the worst sight my heart could ever possibly imagine. Richard was hovered over Colt on the floor, where he lay discolored and lifeless. I didn’t know what to do and felt completely empty as I stood in horror watching my husband give my baby boy CPR.
                I heard my dad talking on the phone, and the distinct words, “I think we have a dead baby”. I turned and ran into my bathroom… slid down the wall to the floor… and I prayed. I don’t even remember all that I prayed for, but I do know I asked for strength to accept whatever happened. My mom found me there, picked me up, and said something about how it was going to be ok. At this point, everything was moving in slow motion and everyone sounded like they were talking under water.
I made my way back out to where Colt and Richard were. I had tears streaming down my face as I rubbed his chubby arm and sobbed at Richard to ‘please save him’. I held his hand as Richard continued doing CPR. At some point Graci came around the corner and saw us… her face filled with concern and questions. I ran to her, hugged her close, and took her to the kitchen where someone else took her from me. I called my father-in-law and asked him to pray for us, that Colt wasn’t breathing… I hung up when I noticed that the first responders had arrived. They told me to go to a different room… that I wouldn’t want to watch... So I stood in the living room… not knowing what to do… It seemed like forever before the ambulance got there. I watched them wheel Colt out… I felt a small ray of hope that he might pull through… I prayed for God not to take my precious little boy...


I rode in the front of the ambulance as it drove to the hospital. On the way I called some of my best friends… I needed people to pray for us. I kept looking back at the EMT’s working on Colt, praying he would be ok. I was shaking… I kept saying, “Hold on, Bubba”… I wanted to throw up…
                When we got to the hospital they handed me his torn clothes and took me to a room just inside, where I sat and watched them try to save my baby. Luckily, I wasn’t alone for too long before Richard got there. We sat and cried… prayed and held each other… My parents came in soon after and held us close as we watched, helplessly.
As I sat and prayed, the hope I had felt left me, and I knew he was gone. I sat there, knowing there was nothing to be done and wanting them to stop so I could hold my baby. But I just sat… I sat and felt empty… I didn’t even know what to feel at this point. It was like I was watching a movie… how could this be real? How could my baby really be gone?
Soon, the doctor came and talked with us, he told us he didn’t think he could do anything more… We decided to let him go. They couldn’t get his heart to start back up and worried that even if they were somehow able to, he would have awful brain damage. I knew there was nothing they could do. I knew Heavenly Father had called him home…
                I was somewhat relieved to see them start leaving the room, because I just wanted to hold him and get a chance to say goodbye. I knew he was gone, I knew he was ok, and I knew I would be ok… even if I didn’t feel remotely okay at that moment… They left the room, wrapped him in a fleece blanket, and placed him in my arms. I sat and held him… I rocked him back and forth… He had tubes coming out of him, smelled funny, and his skin was cold. He was lifeless… I knew his spirit was no longer in his body, but I also knew he was there with us. I could feel him… I could feel angels all around, helping me get through this. I kept kissing his forehead and rubbing every inch of him with my finger, trying to memorize every detail… I didn’t want to ever forget his precious little face. My parents, Chelise and Dusty, and Richard and I sat with him, and held each other. I didn’t ever want to leave. They let me hold him for a long time. When I felt ready, I let Richard lay him back down in the hospital bed so we could answer questions with the detective as they got him ready to leave.


                They took us to a room… the rose room. Richard and I sat there and just hugged each other. We had a few friends come, and they were able to help my dad give Richard and I priesthood blessings. We answered the detective’s questions… and then they told us we could go back to see him again before the mortuary took him away. (That was one of the scariest thoughts for me).
                We went back into the hospital room and found him laying there on the bed. He looked somewhat peaceful, but also strange. It was weird to see him lying so still… he had NEVER laid so still… I let Richard pick him up, and made sure he took extra care with his head. Then I held him again for a moment before I let everyone else have a turn. When everyone was finished, I took him back. I kept trying to memorize all the details of his perfect face and the way it felt to hold him tightly in my arms. I never wanted to let him go, but knew I had to. It took me a little while, but I finally felt like it was time. He was with his Heavenly Father now, and it was ok to let him go.
I will never forget placing him on the stretcher to be taken away... I will never forget the feeling of anguish as I said goodbye... I will never forget how hard it was to know I would never again see his sweet smile, cuddle him in the rocking chair, or read him stories… A part of my heart felt like it had been ripped out of my body. As I watched them take him away, I wondered how my own heart was still beating. How could I be alive when I felt so much pain… so much emptiness…
Leaving the hospital was almost as hard as laying him on that stretcher. I felt like I was missing something... I was missing someone… How could I go anywhere without my little Colt Man in tow? It felt strange to not have him there. It felt like I was in a dream… I just clung to the clothes and blanket they had given me, that were his… I didn’t put them down for several hours.
I cried all night, and barely slept. But somehow, through the horrible pain I was feeling, I knew everything was going to be ok. I knew that one day it would all make sense… I knew this was the plan… my plan… And while I had never felt so lost, I had also never felt the spirit so strong. I didn’t know what to expect in the coming days… but I knew that there was no way I was ever going to stop working, not even for one second, to make it to the Celestial Kingdom. All I wanted was to have my Colt back… and I knew how to get him… so I prayed for strength… and I was ok.


I have felt Colt's absence every single moment since he died. There is nothing that can erase the pain I feel every day when I wonder what he would be doing if he were with us... the pain of seeing other babies, around his age, and wishing I could run over to them with my little boy and make new friends... the pain of living without someone I hold so dear... However, through all of the pain, I am ok. Just like I knew I would be on the night that Colt died... There is never an 'easy' day, but I am able to find joy, feel peace, and know that one day I will get to do all the things I long to do today, with Colt.