I Love the Sound of a Crying Baby

Remember that old adage that you should always wear a clean pair of underwear in case you had to go to the hospital for an emergency?  (at least that's how I remember it).  I'll get to that part of this story later. 

Yesterday the boys and I were enjoying a peaceful morning with our friend Bridget (who used to be Sean's Nanny, and comes in 2nd place to Beth the Girl as to favorite people in the world) at her apartment complex's pool.  The boys were hungry, so we started lunch there on the pool deck-- PB&J and grapes (the grapes were cut).  Jamesie was "inhaling" the grapes.  Then he did inhale a grape--right into his trachea.  At first he coughed and gagged a little, then he was silent--no air in or out--no crying, no gagging, but struggling and panicking.  I finger-swooped him --he tends to gag on things, so we finger swoop him a lot.  Nothing happened, so in a panic I nearly threw him at Bridget (who was holding her own baby on her lap at the time), with the instruction "do something!"  Bridget is an R.N., and has more medical knowledge in her trachea-swooping pinky finger than I ever could.  She finger swooped, nothing happened.  Then, the dreaded words of her telling me to start calling for an ambulance.  I fumbled for my phone and was barely able to dial 911 for my shaking hands, as Jamesie then lost conciousness and passed out-- blue and purple.  I was a mess, he was limp, Sean was staring at him, and by this time Bridget was administering the Baby-Heimlich, which includes back-blows between his shoulder blades.  I was shaking and shouting into the phone, "My baby is choking!"

Thank God for Jamesie's Guardian Angel who might very well be named Bridget.  The grape eventually dislodged itself, but Jamesie was then spitting up blood, and while he was breathing, it was very labored and we could hear that the breathing passage was still somewhat blocked--I was scared with any breath the grape could get stuck again.  I think because his breathing was so labored his hands and feet remained blue and he just slumped over in my arms, as I kept his head facing down somewhat so he didnt choke on the blood coming up.  He was recovering from losing consciousness when EMT came, but his color was finally back, and he was breathing normally by then--although very limp and lethargic for the lack of oxygen.  Apparently, if the Heimlich is performed on a baby that size he qualifies for an automatic trip to the emergency room to check for broken bones and other internal damage.  Plus, we never saw the grape come back out, so they needed to see if it was actually in a lung.  So, Jamesie and I got an exciting ride to the E.R. in a blaring ambulance, and Sean got to spend the afternoon with Bridget.  Sean was an absolute champ--he was completely quiet and calm throughout the entire event, and just said "I love you" when we left.  Later that evening he gave us a minute-by-minute account of the whole day and interrupted at dinner to say, "Excuse me Mommy, you have to tell Daddy about the grape in Jamesie's lung."  Oh, yes, thank you for reminding me about that!

A few hours after our EMT encounter and he checked out (mostly) A-OK at the ER.  A trip to the pediatrician this morning showed he was definitely A-OK.   While at the ER Jamesie's Guardian Angel pulled a few more strings, as both of our attending docs were Notre Dame grads (might be common in a Chicago ER, but rarely do you meet an ND grad in Charleston, SC, much less two at the same time, who are in charge of your son's medical care). 

And now let me rewind to the beginning of our day.  Cody was out of town at a PD Conference (and had to high-tail it back to Charleston after my 911 text), and I was feeling quite lazy and relaxed in the morning.  We had a busy few days with preschool and running the home by myself, so I decidedly took things slow on this particular morning.  That meant Jamesie had his morning nap in his jammies and Sean had breakfast in just underpants (per his request).  Seeing as we were just going to Bridget's pool right after the morning nap, what would be the sense in changing the child into clothes just to change him into swim trunks as soon as we got there?  Besides, its just Bridget's. 

3 hours later I am in the E.R. with my naked baby, wearing just a diaper.  I think-- they're performing chest exams on him, its normal not wear any clothes, right?  Well, then he started getting cold, and what do I have to dress the child in?  Jammies.  ***I swear, this is the first time in the last 17 1/2 months he has ever gone out of the house in pajamas.  This would happen.  We looked like complete hobos-- no shoes, no socks, just football-themed pajamas in the middle of the afternoon.  When Cody picked us up from the hospital at about 3:00 pm he was considerate enough of my delicate emotional state to decide not to mention our son's attire.  Also, when the ambulance came to the pool, I got into it in just my swimming suit, until the nice lady-EMT said, "do you want to get any clothes before we go to the hospital?"  Yes, I do.  Thank you for thinking for me.

So, yesterday evening as the boys slept peacefully in their beds we thanked God for our Guardian Angels, for Bridget and for our boys.  In a matter of minutes the outcome could have been completely different and we could have been having a very different sort of night.  I am shaken to the core thinking about it, but as my grandmother reminded me last night, "I'm sure you are scared, but its over now, and you have to stop thinking about it and move on.  You start over again tomorrow."  That's the wisdom of someone who successfully raised 5 boys into adulthood. 

Oh, and just to comment on the title of this post, the sweetest sound yesterday was hearing his little wimpering cry after he could breathe again.  Unfortunately, Jamesie is also a breath-holder when he cries, so we actually witness him pass out from not breathing about once every week or two.  As I was telling the EMTs--this isn't the way he normally passes out, and usually when he passes out he comes back much quicker.  While the pediatrician assures us he is not doing any neurological damage when he cry-passes out, it is still completely unnerving for a mother to watch her son turn blue, purple, then fall over with his eyes rolling back.  I hate it, and I always rejoice when I hear his little cry come back. 

Guardian Angels, pray for us and protect us! 

And, just in case you need a refresher on what to do in a choking-baby situation:

http://children.webmd.com/guide/choking-rescue-procedure-baby-younger-than-1-year

I recommend you read the WebMD instructions, but this is what the back-blows should look like.  Although, the doctor explained it to me with his head sideways.  There are also front compressions to do, which you can see on the WebMD explanation.