On April 1st, my father's birthday no less, my worse nightmare slowly began to unravel. Many of you already know the story and in an attempt to not make this post a novel, I will fast forward a bit.
Three years waiting and wondering if we would ever get to become parents was nothing compared to the three days that we waited and wondered if our baby girl would live or not.
In a nut shell...
Harlow had a fever and was vomiting
We took her to the doctor
Sent home to observe her as she had a stomach virus, most likely
She became lethargic and wouldn't drink anything and I panicked
Called doctor and was sent to the ER
Tested positive for Flu A and blood pressure, blood sugar and electrolytes were extremely low
Admitted to children's hospital
Watched for 5 hours as she slowly began dying right in front of us
Finally PICU doc sent to see her after I pointed out that she had a large abscess on her neck, was struggling to breath, and had a huge rash covering her entire body
Admitted to PICU where we waited for over an hour for any news
Told they almost lost her, twenty minutes after she was brought in
Blur, blur, blur
85% mortality rate for the first 3 days
Slowly began responding to meds and organs showed signs of working
Days and days passed
Almost lost her hand and two legs due to loss of blood flow
Medicinal leeches put on her hand and completely saved it
Two surgeries to remove dead tissue and skin from her legs and heel
22 days in PICU and finally sent to the normal children's hospital floor
Day 4 on the normal floor and we are thriving
Scheduled for skin grafts on Thursday, it's currently Saturday
Hoping to be sent home a day or two after the surgery
I'm leaving out millions of tears, break downs, questions and details as not only would that take forever, but at this point I have mentally begun blocking out those first few days. It is just too difficult to try and recall or relive that terror. We made every deal with God and promised that I would never need another child. That I wouldn't even ask for another baby. That I would be content and wouldn't even mourn the possibility of a sibling for Harlow. But He could not take this baby from me. I wouldn't allow it. I wouldn't be able to handle that and would question everything if this happened.
I know now why we were put through the test of infertility. It was so we would cherish every single moment with our miracle baby. It was so I could gain strength and knowledge and empathy for others who struggle through the vicious cycle. It was so I could overcome my fear of needles and medications. It was so Blake and I could grow as a couple; fall apart and come together again. It was so we would never take our child's life for granted. And we don't. Ever.
But this test? I can't wrap my mind around why we would be put through this one. We had everything in perspective. We cherished and cherish the hell out of our daughter. We know what a miracle she is, everyday.
Maybe it was to show us how much Harlow has touched others' lives. To let us see how sharing our struggle, life and daughter with the world, has affected people. To let us know that we are not alone. That others also know what a special child our daughter is. So that we can one day share this story with her. To tell her she's magical and brave and a true miracle. Times two
We may never know the reason for this awful experience. But that's not my focus. My focus is that Harlow has beaten all the odds. She continues to amaze doctors and nurses who didn't expect her to survive, let alone keep her limbs. My focus is my child. I stare at her and can't even imagine what my life would be like without her. If the % would have proven true. She is my heart, my reason and my world. I exist because she does. I am ever thankful for these 25 days. We are still here. We are still fighting. We are trying to recover. We are still a family. Always.
