A Little Mischief: A Blip in the Radar

Dear Quinn,

My sweet baby girl, we almost lost you. Last Friday night you became very, very sick. Your Daddy was in Houston for the day and I was called at work to pick you up from daycare. They told me that you had a fever, so I picked you up and brought you home. You let me rock you in the chair and sing to you, and then you took a nap. Afterwards you felt so much better. We took a pretty picture and sent it to your Daddy to ease his mind before his plane ride, and I took a video of you dancing along to your musical puppy.

Five minutes later you were unconscious in my arms and I was calling 911. Quinn, you don’t like sirens. You got that from me, baby girl, because your Mom Mom could tell you that I was always a wimp about loud noises. I was never so happy to hear a siren in all my life. When I couldn’t wake you and your little body was shaking with seizures, that sound let me know that help was coming to save you.

You will never be scared of sirens again. We will make sure you know that those are the helpers on their way to rescue someone who really needs them. I wish I could remember their names and faces, because those four people who came when I called are the first people who would begin saving your life.

They took us in an ambulance to Jefferson – and I cannot even bring myself to write about what happened next, except to say that your grandparents were called and it helped me to know that they were all on their way.

Pop Daddy T. came to Jefferson. I needed him more than ever – and of course he was there, like all of your grandparents would be throughout this entire ordeal. Quinn, no matter how old you get, there are going to be times in your life where you will need your mommy and daddy. This was one of those times for your Daddy and me. Your Mom Mom and Pop Daddy, and Grammy and Pop Pop were by our sides through everything – and I want you to know that Daddy and I will always, always, always be there for you when you need us.

You were transferred to CHOP, which is the best Children’s hospital in the country – and Grammy, Pop Pop and Mom Mom went directly there. I sent messages to your Daddy from the ambulance so that he would see them when his plane landed, and soon you arrived and were admitted to the PICU.

Your Daddy came. I will always remember the way it felt to finally be able to hug him. He had such a long day flying back and forth to Texas, but it would be a long time before he, or any of us, could sleep.

The following days and nights were very scary, and you needed a lot of support from the equipment at CHOP. It helped to know that you were being taken care of by the incredible people who work there. We are so grateful to everyone at both of these great hospitals for helping you Quinn. There is no way to adequately thank them for saving you. They took excellent care of all of us and I am in awe of their ability to do that extremely difficult, but extremely important work.

You are going to get to know your Auntie Stephanie who works at CHOP. When the doctors and nurses wouldn’t tell us whether or not you were going to be ok – she assured us that you would recover. She counseled me and lifted my spirits at times when I really needed it – once at the very moment I thought it might really lose it, she appeared in the doorway and talked me through it. She is one of so many angels who were there for us, Quinn.

I’m leaving out the details, baby girl, but our days in the ICU were so scary that Pop Daddy changed the words of Peekaboo to “Peekaboo – I view you” just so that we never have to say “I C you” again.

You already know this part, Quinn – but you got better. Every day you improved. A happy day was when you came off the ventilator, and were able to breathe on your own. We knew that it might be a long road, but we knew you were going to get healthy again. That’s why I titled this post – A Blip in the Radar. That was what one of the nurses said to me and I let it become my mantra. I told myself over and over again that this was just a small sentence in the story of your life. You would grow up and experience things – and we would get through this and move on.

Quinn, whenever the people in your life are going through something hard, you shouldn’t hesitate to tell them what is in your heart. When people send messages of hope and support, someone will say the exact thing that someone else needed to hear.

I can’t even begin to process the love our family has experienced over the past week and a half. Everyone we ever met was praying for you. And not only that - the families and friends of all those people were praying for you. People’s next-door neighbors and coworkers and in-laws and cousins twice-removed were praying for you. We received literally hundreds of messages and were witness to innumerable acts of true kindness. Quinn, the amount of love you have in this world is indescribable. You are so, so, so incredibly loved.

As I write this you are spending your last night in the hospital and I am simply overwhelmed with gratitude for the medical team – our families – our friends – everyone who loves you, especially your Daddy, who is the most amazingly strong man I have ever known.

Tomorrow we are coming home with a fresh perspective, a new appreciation for all the wonderful people we are lucky enough to have in our lives, and most importantly, with you – our sweet baby girl!

Quinn, sometimes life is hard – but the world is a good place and people in it are inherently good. There is a God, Quinn – and I’m going to make sure that you grow up with a foundation of faith. There will be times ahead when you will need it. We will be there also – and we will tell you this story so that you will know how precious you are.

We love you so much, Quinn! And thank you, thank you, thank you, everyone.

These are the only photos I will post, all taken today - the best day so far, the happiest day ever: