Sunday, February 9, 2014

Call It A Christmas Miracle - Two Days Late

As many of our friends and family know, 2013 was a tough year for us. As it came to a close, we hoped that we would be able to enjoy what was left of the month of December. Although three houses fell through for us and John's job situation didn't work out (again), we looked forward to enjoying the Christmas season with family and close friends. Despite the rainy weather, we enjoyed my annual birthday dinner in Cape May mid December and we rejoiced in finding amazing renters for our condo.

As we began packing up our condo in anticipation for our big move across a few towns to my parents house, sickness struck the Wilson household. As if 2013 wasn't hard enough, Caleb developed a terrible, double ear infection that sent him to Urgent Care the weekend before Christmas. Although it was awful to see him in pain and not acting like his normal feisty self, I thanked God it was just an ear infection and that he would be back to normal in a few days thanks to some antibiotics.

That was only the beginning.

Caleb visited Urgent Care the Saturday before Christmas. Aaron was there the next day. I prayed and hoped it was also an ear infection (like Caleb had), but it was much worse.

Aaron threw up the week before Christmas. Although it was a lot for a little baby, it was random and only once so we figured maybe he had eaten too much. The following day it happened again and although we were concerned we figured it was just a bug. By Saturday though, he was vomiting more than once a day and it was everything he was eating and more.

I started getting concerned and was praying it was just an ear infection, although deep down I knew it was more serious then that. By Sunday, Aaron was wincing in pain and throwing up constantly. It was scary so I took him to Urgent Care.

Before I left, I changed him and I noticed his stomach was distended. I had a feeling I should take him to the ER, but for whatever reason I went to Urgent Care first. As soon as I got there things got bad. Aaron hadn't eaten in six hours and for a breastfed baby, that was a long time. I tried to feed him, but as soon as I got him in position, he threw up everywhere and all over me. In the midst of all that, I was trying to fill out paper work while catching vomit. I was sweating and held back tears as I tried to help my screaming baby. I literally felt like I was in the middle of a nightmare.

Thankfully, everyone around me noticed and tried to help. All the employees at Urgent Care and a few people waiting did things to help me. I called John and asked him to meet me. I was losing it. I tried talking to the woman next to me to distract myself from all that was going on, but in the midst of our conversation, I could feel tears running down my cheeks. The sleepless nights and having my baby scream in pain and not having a clue how to help him was devastating. All of that frustration came to a head at Urgent Care. I was desperate to help my baby.

It wasn't long after that we got called back to see the doctor. "Randomly," but definitely by an act of God, Aaron and Caleb's pediatrician was at Urgent Care that day. He knew us and our children well and it was a relief to see a familiar face. John arrived as our doctor walked in. Ten thousand pounds were lifted from my shoulders. Hopefully, we could find out what was going on.

The pediatrician took one look at Aaron and told us there was something very wrong. He did an external exam and noticed his distended stomach and told us to head to the hospital right away. The ten thousand pounds that were lifted felt like it all returned. We knew there was something terribly wrong.

John and I made our way to Shore Memorial hospital and were seen right away. Aaron threw up a few times while we were there and continued to wince in pain. The doctors took x-rays and hooked him up to an IV. I almost threw up watching them try and put that IV in his arm. It was the worst thing I feel like I ever witnessed.

We were told the x-rays of his stomach came back fine as did all the tests. They wanted to do an ultrasound of his distended belly, but they told us they didn't have the technology to do it (something I still don't quite understand today). They let him finish the IV and sent us home. Aaron seemed better, although his stomach was still distended.

As I was driving home, I heard him throw up again. I prayed it was just me being paranoid, but when we got home, I was right. He threw up EVERYWHERE. I was so frustrated but hoped it was the last time. I changed Aaron when we got home and started to walk into the living room from Aaron's changing table to settle down for the night. Before I sat down, he threw up all over the place again. Why was this happening?!

We had had such long nights with Aaron and decided that unless it continued, we'd stay home for the night instead of heading back to the hospital. Thankfully, things didn't get worse.

The next few days before Christmas were a blur. I started to get sick and Aaron kept throwing up. It got to the point where I would nurse him and purposely pull him on and off so he didn't projectile vomit right back on me (which happened most of the time anyway). I'd pray so hard every time he nursed for him to hold it down and when he didn't, I'd cry and get upset. Every nursing session was draining both physically and emotionally. But the doctors seemed to think it was a bug, so we just waited for this 'bug' to pass, although it had been five days of almost constant projectile vomit.

In the midst of all this mess, we started packing up our condo in anticipation to move to my parents. We were supposed to move before Christmas, but with the kids being sick and then me feeling under the weather, not much got packed and we pushed the date back. Luckily, our renters were more than accommodating.

Christmas Eve came and the usual festivities took place. I wanted to stay home, but all of the kids' Christmas presents were at my parent's house since we were supposed to be there for Christmas anyway. We went to the annual Christmas Eve party at my moms, but because of how sick Aaron was, I spent a majority of the night upstairs in the nursery with him. I was upset I missed the fun, but was completely distracted by my sick baby. I just wanted him to be well.

Christmas morning came and Aaron still wasn't better. It was difficult to enjoy the day knowing how sick he was. I had a hard time taking pictures of Caleb as I constantly looked back at Aaron wondering if he was okay (my mom held Aaron while John and I tried to focus on Caleb opening his gifts). We spent most of the day at home and didn't travel like we normally do on Christmas. Christmas night, Aaron continued to throw up every time I fed him. It was officially a week since he started throwing up. I was doubtful it was just a 'bug.'

The morning after Christmas Aaron projectile vomited all over me in the midst of nursing. Frustrated and upset, I called the doctor at four in the morning. The doc on call didn't get back to me right away so I decided to head to the ER. I was desperate to see my baby back to normal.

John and I headed to the hospital and Aaron continued to projectile vomit. When we got there, we waited in the back for a bit to see the doctor even though it wasn't busy. While we waited, we searched our phones for answers to why Aaron was vomiting so much. We found a disorder called pyloric stenosis that causes consistent projectile vomiting and Aaron matched the symptoms perfectly. We were convinced this was what he had. Everything that had been happening to Aaron was just a confirmation of this disorder. We knew we wanted an ultrasound to be sure.

As we continued to wait, I asked John when he thought we would be sent home. I was desperate to get home and enjoy at least some of the holiday season and resume life as normal. He looked at me and said, "they are going to admit Aaron and we are going to be here overnight."

Call it a gut feeling or hearing from God, but sometimes John just KNOWS things are going to happen, and this time, he just KNEW we were going to be admitted. As much as I didn't want to believe him, I knew he was right. There we were, the day after Christmas, still trying to pack and move, and we were going to be admitted. I looked at him and burst into tears, "why is this happening to us?!" He looked at me, then looked down and said, "I don't know, but church has been really encouraging lately, although the rest of our lives are shattering to pieces." Clearly, we were being attacked.

A short time after that, the pediatric doctor came in, took one look at Aaron and said, "why is he breathing like that?" "Like what?" I said. "Like that. Has he been breathing like that for awhile?" Huhh? I was so confused. Then, he asked me if I was sick too, in which I brushed off and said, "yeah, I have a cold."

I was so focused on the projectile vomit, that I failed to recognize the fact that Aaron was having trouble breathing. I thought he was dry heaving, not wheezing. Aaron was tested for RSV-pneumonia and it came back positive. John was right, we were going to be admitted. We immediately asked about getting an ultra sound for his belly which was ordered after we were taken to our room.

All the babies on the pediatric unit had RSV. There were about six or seven of us there which was a little encouraging. It was comforting to know there were others facing what we were facing and they seemed to be holding it together. Except Aaron was a little different with the vomiting issue. I asked everyone who came into our room if RSV caused projectile vomit. Over and over again, I was told 'No,' which convinced me even more he had pyloric stenosis.

A few hours after we got to our room, they took Aaron down for an ultrasound to check for pyloric stenosis. I was happy we were finally getting an ultrasound, something we should had gotten several days earlier when we visited the ER the first time. They wheeled him in, stripped him down, squirted jelly on him, and rolled the little wand over his belly. I looked at the screen in search of something, anything, that looked out of sorts, but I had no idea what I was looking at. I looked back and forth from the screen to the Tech and back again. She wasn't saying anything and I couldn't read her facial expressions. I was desperate for some answers.

Finally after about ten minutes she looked at me and said, "It looks like he has pyloric stenosis, but there's a lot of gas bubbles in there so we are going to confirm tomorrow with another ultrasound." "What does that mean?" I asked. "It means he has pyloric stenosis."

I was relieved we had found an answer, but also scared of an impending surgery on my three month old. Also, the surgery would have to be done at CHOP and after all we had been through, the thought of traveling there was daunting.

A short time after the ultrasound, the doctor came in and confirmed Aaron's diagnosis. He called it 'borderline pyloric stenosis' since they wanted to confirm with another ultrasound the next day, but he was pretty sure that's what Aaron had. We immediately asked people to pray.

We were relieved we had an answer, but surgery scared us a bit, especially on a three month old baby. We, without a doubt, felt the prayers going up for us, because both John and I talked about the overwhelming peace we had about the whole thing. God was 110% in control and we knew our baby would be fine.

I wasn't allowed to feed Aaron for 24 hours until his next ultrasound which was upsetting to both of us. And since he was all hooked up to IVs and various machines, I couldn't hold him. Luckily, Aaron was tired enough from everything he'd been through and slept the best he slept since he got sick (which still wasn't great).

Since Aaron was so small and couldn't (and shouldn't) go too long without eating, he was first to get an ultrasound the next day. The nurse wheeled him down to the ultrasound room as I prayed and walked behind them. We got to the room and the same procedures as the day before happened again. As soon as the wand hit his belly, I searched the screen for something that looked out of the ordinary. Again, I had no idea what I was looking at. I looked at the Tech doing the ultrasound and tried to read her facial expressions. She was expressionless. Five minutes later, she was done.

The Tech wiped off the jelly from Aaron's belly and didn't say anything. I was waiting for her to tell me what was going on, but the room remained silent. Finally after what felt like forever, Aaron's nurse spoke up. "So what's going on with this little guy?" she asked. The ultrasound Tech responded, "Well, whatever was there yesterday and whatever they saw, isn't there today." They continued to talk as if this wasn't some sort of miracle! Aaron's nurse said, "Oh, so there's nothing there? No pyloric stenosis?" "No pyloric stenosis. He's fine. It's all clear."

What?! I almost dropped dead. Part of me wanted to shake them. Didn't they realize what just happened?!

I was beyond elated that Aaron's ultrasound was clear and that there would be no impending surgery. The doctor came in a few hours later and confirmed what the Tech had reported. The doctor did an external exam and Aaron seemed to be fine. All symptoms of the disorder we really felt he had, were no longer present. I couldn't believe it. I had fully prepared myself for the diagnosis and yet, he was fine. Both John and I really felt and thought he had this disorder and were completely prepared to face whatever obstacles this disorder presented. I was shocked, but so happy!

We ended up staying in the hospital a few more days because of the RSV which was terribly dreadful, but the prayers going up for us certainly carried us through. When they finally discharged us, we practically ran through the front doors without looking back!

There never was an explanation for the vomiting. No one had any answers. All we know is that we went into the hospital with a very sick baby who was throwing up constantly and we left with a baby that was miraculously healed.

We cannot thank everyone enough for the prayers. It was beyond comforting and we are so appreciative! The private messages and emails were also a huge comfort and encouragement to me as I sat with my sick baby in that awful hospital room. Personally speaking, I would have never made it through without the prayers carrying us through this battle.

And yes, it was made clear to John and I this was clearly an attack. As I mentioned earlier, John had said church was encouraging at the time but the rest of our lives were shattering.

When we planted our church, we knew we'd have a giant target on our back. We knew we'd face trials we never faced before. And we knew we'd struggle. Knowing all of this, I begged God, that in the midst of inevitable attacks, that He spare my children. "Please God," I begged, "don't allow my children to suffer."

I fully expected God to protect my children. And for a long time, I thought He failed me. However, looking back, I realize He did protect my children. Yes, Aaron got sick. Yes, it was hell for a few weeks, but Aaron is perfectly fine. Aaron was miraculously healed and if that's not an amazingly, awesome example of God's protection, I don't know what is.

God was there every step of the way even though I questioned His power and protection over our lives. He has proven to me that He is in control, He is sovereign, and He is most definitely present in my life.

Thank you God for being with me in this trial! Thank you for your peace, presence and Holy Spirit comforting me. Thank you for proving Yourself to me once again!

I write all this to encourage you, to let you know God is out there and is working! Please allow Him to work in Your life! You won't be disappointed!

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