A Letter to Symmes....

Dear Symmes,

A year ago today, I woke up at 4:45 AM in the morning and decided to check on you. You usually awakened around 5 AM wanting to be fed, and I thought I’d go ahead and beat you to the punch, change your diaper, and feed you while you were half asleep so you could go right back in bed. I wasn’t expecting to find you not breathing or moving. You were so very cold and your skin was gray. I couldn’t find your heartbeat either, and I thought that you were irrevocably gone. The next few minutes were surreal as I moved to perform CPR on your little body, all the while praying that you would breathe again. After what seemed like an eternity, I could finally feel your heartbeat in your chest again and hear faint wheezing. The paramedics came and we went to the hospital together. I couldn’t ride with you since they were working on warming you up and stabilizing you, so I sat in the front seat and just prayed. I prayed for you, I prayed for your parents who were trying to get back to Atlanta from New York, and I prayed for strength to make it through the day since I didn’t know what was going to happen. Never have I felt so helpless.

When we got to the hospital, I saw your feet kick up from your warming blanket and was so relieved that you were moving. You hadn’t moved at all since I had found you other than the rise and fall of your chest when you started breathing again. We went into a room, and several nurses started to work on you, inserting IV’s, drawing blood for labs, wrapping you in blankets, and asking me questions. I held your tiny hand and refused to leave your side. I wanted to be with you when you opened your eyes, because I didn’t want you to be scared since we were in a strange place with bright lights and lots of people you didn’t know. Your great grandmother came, and so did your great aunt and your grandfather. I had to leave you with them to speak to a police investigator, which is routine in cases like these. The investigator asked me a lot of questions, which I answered patiently. I just wanted to leave and get back to you and when he finally finished, I sprinted back down the hall. The nurses informed me that you were going to be moved to PICU, and I insisted on coming with them. I was not leaving your side again until your parents arrived, no matter what. The doctor in PICU was very nice, and told me that it looked like SIDS had almost claimed you, but that they would be doing more testing to try to further ascertain what had caused you to stop breathing. (We still do not have a definitive answer, just possible theories) You had awakened at last and looked very confused, and you were so hungry, but we couldn’t feed you because of the loss of blood flow to your stomach. All we could let you have was sugar water on a pacifier. I couldn’t stand watching you lying all alone on such a big hospital bed, so I told the nurses that I wanted you moved into my arms immediately. It took a little bit of work with all the wires and IV’s, but with a few extra pillows under my elbows, you were soon snuggling in my arms sucking your sugar water pacifier. You fell asleep, and I remember wondering how I was ever going to be able to put you down or let you out of my sight again. Your parents arrived shortly afterwards and were so relieved to see you and hold you. We all thought the worst was over, but two days later, you started having seizures. The doctors thought that it might be from the oxygen loss to your brain but they couldn’t be sure. The seizures caused you to lose your sight, and you couldn’t see us anymore. I spent a lot of time in the hospital rocking you and holding you. I was determined that even if your sight didn’t come back, that it wouldn’t stop you from anything. I would have done whatever it took. After 9 days in the hospital, they sent you home with your apnea monitor and on anti-seizure meds. I had to take you to the hospital quite a few times to have your blood drawn so we could see if your medication level was high enough to keep you from having seizures. You never cried when they stuck you. I always held you in my arms and you would smile when you heard my voice. We started OT and PT, and I took you to all your appointments and therapy sessions. Over time, I noticed that you were starting to see objects again by the tracking of your eyes. I gave you quite the workout every day…. 5-10 minutes of therapy every hour you were awake. You were (mostly) a good sport and did everything without fighting me. You started crawling at 5.5 months of age. Literally crawling…across a room. It was amazing to see. You “graduated” from OT at 7 months because you were no longer in need of their services. You also started walking at only 10 months of age. The day you took your first steps I cried. Knowing that you didn’t have severe cerebral palsy as a result of what happened to you was a relief. We won’t know the full effects of the oxygen deprivation for a few more years when you start learning to read and write. One of the things that you stubbornly refused to do was clap your hands. I worried about this, I lost sleep over it, and tried to figure out why you would not clap your hands. You had no problems smacking toys together. One day you were with Ethan and I, and I was snuggling with you. I asked you to clap your hands, just like I did every day, with a little demonstration….and you smiled at me, and clapped your hands for the first time. I cried again and then laughed at your stubbornness. I bet you knew how to do it all along and were secretly clapping in your crib!

You turned 1 in October, and you are now 15 months old. I love watching you grow up. You are so funny. You are mischievous and are always finding new ways to get into trouble. When you’re about to do something you know you aren’t supposed to, you sneak a quick glance my way to see if I’m watching. If I make eye contact, a sly grin grows across your face as if you think that will distract me enough to not see what you’re trying to do. It makes me laugh every time. You are so determined and when you want something you will stop at nothing to get it. This trait has served you well in your therapies! If you can’t figure something out or you need help, I hear your little voice pipe up with “Hep!”, which is your way of asking for my assistance. You are a little snuggler when you want to be, grabbing my legs, looking waaaay up and demanding in your little voice “Up!”. I love when you decide you want to be picked up to snuggle with me for a few minutes. You tuck your little head right under my chin and it feels like you belong there.

This morning when I went to get you from your crib, you stood up with a big smile, just like you always do and waved your empty bottle at me. After breakfast, we played with your brother and your sister, and I asked you for a kiss, just to see if you would give me one. You did… and that’s the first time you’ve ever responded on your own to a “Kiss?” request. Of all the days that you would choose to do that, it was the most special one you could have picked. Even though I’m not your mom, we have a special bond because of what we’ve been through and survived. You’ll never know just how much I love you, sweet baby boy.

Love always,
Lauren