My Heart

“Making the decision to have a child - it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ” -Elizabeth Stone

I don’t think I fully understood the magnitude of this quote until last night when my baby stopped breathing.

I will lead with this; Mira is ok. As I write this, she is peacefully snoozing in her crib, with a belly full of fruit and oatmeal, her hair smelling of baby shampoo. I wish I could say the same of myself.

Last night we had Ellie’s ballet recital. After a celebratory dinner, we headed home with our 2 passed out babes in the backseat. It was a 30-minute drive home, the last 10 of which were peacefully quiet. Evan and I relished in the silence after a long day and arrived home around 9:30. We always decide upon parking who gets which kid. He decided on Ellie, and took her inside and up to bed. I opened up the back door to find Mira a shade of white I have never seen before. I thought, maybe it’s just the harsh garage lighting, and proceeded to carefully and quietly take her out of her car seat. That’s when I noticed she was completely lifeless. I held her face up to mine and her mouth dropped open, no breath coming from it. I start to shake her gently, calling her name with no response.

Her body felt like a brick in my arms.

I ran inside screaming for Evan, who instinctively took her from my arms and laid her down on the living room floor. He immediately started performing CPR while I called 911.

It was within these few moments that I started to question everything I had done wrong. Was this my fault? Was I not paying attention? Is my baby going to die?

The police arrived, followed by the paramedics. Within minutes our house was filled with people and machines and oxygen tanks. After a few minutes of mouth to mouth, Mira began to come around. Her eyes, began to open, her short breaths gained some rhythm.  She appeared to be lethargic, confused and painfully exhausted. An EMT sat her up slowly and she vomited all over herself and the living room floor.

All this time, Ellie, hair still fastened tightly in her ballerina bun, sporting her neon pink and yellow ballet costume, would not leave Mira’s side. I tried whisking her away into a different room, bribing her with her iPad, as I didn’t want her to see her sister in this state.  “I’m not leaving Mira”, she said adamantly. She refused to move.

 I have never been more proud and terrified in the same moment.

After several minutes, which, felt like hours, Mira was getting her color back. Her vitals were improving, and I was allowed to change her into some clean clothes. We took her to the ER, luckily just about 2 miles from our house. For the next several hours, she was poked, prodded and x-rayed before passing out in my arms.

Mira’s breathing was obstructed due to her position in her new car seat. We started using it for the first time yesterday in an effort to try to improve her head positioning, as she still has little control. She had quietly slouched herself down just enough to cut off sufficient air flow.

Try something for me. Push your chin all the way down so it's resting on your chest, then imagine having no control over the muscles in your neck to pull it back up. Not too easy to get a good breath, right? On top of that, plug your nose closed. Mira suffers from chronic nasal congestion, making nose breathing very difficult. That struggle is what Mira experienced in that car seat last night. This is what caused her to stop breathing.

I wrote in my last blog about perspective. About life’s unexpected twists and turns. For the second time this year, I feared my baby was slipping away. It will take a long time for us to erase the haunting image of our lifeless baby on the floor of our living room, if ever.

What I learned last night is that I have a lot to be grateful for.  My husband, for taking charge, remaining calm and for doing what needed to be done. He was her air when she couldn't breath it on her own. Our local police and paramedics, for arriving lightning fast, and for being clear and compassionate with us. My neighbors for running over the instant they heard sirens, offering their help in any way they could. Ellie Paige, for being the most loyal, protective and brave big sister I know. My parents, for rushing to our house to stay with Ellie so we didn’t have to drag her along to the ER in her tutu. I’m also grateful for my own instincts. The ones I sometimes question when it comes to being a mom. The ones that after 4 ½ years, I can honestly say are razor sharp and in tune with both of my children’s needs.

Lastly, I am grateful for Mira Joy, who continues to live up to her very special name. Who despite her traumatic night, woke up this morning with a huge smile ready to take on another day. This little girl will forever be the piece of my heart that walks around outside of my body and for that, I can only feel love and gratitude.