A Bad Dream?

Before we left the hospital, we asked the doctor her opinion.  We wanted to know, "what happened?"  She told us that she believed it was just a tragic, tragic accident.  Possibly, Max had drowned on his bottle.

 I lived with tremendous guilt for weeks.  Why did I give him that bottle?  Why didn’t I know my child was drowning in my backseat?  It was a bottle of milk! He only had it a couple of minutes!  Why?!? 

We headed back to the motel in complete disbelief.  Morgan spent the night with my aunt and uncle in a room next to ours.  Aaron and I got ready for bed, put on pajamas…brushed our teeth.  We went through the motions like any other night, but our entire world had changed.

 I knew we weren’t going to be able to sleep.  How could we?  A million thoughts were running through our minds.  I prayed that it all had been a dream, a very bad dream. 

Earlier in the week, Aaron and I both had bad dreams.  I had a dream that something bad had happened to Max in our car.  I didn’t know what, but I knew it was bad.  I woke up in a panic and leaned over to check on him. (he still slept next to our bed)  He was fast asleep, so I went back to bed.

Aaron had a dream that he was in a maze and couldn’t get to us.  He actually got up out of bed that night to check on Max.  Again, all was good.  Today, Aaron will tell you that maze was the children’s hospital.   While we were in the ICU, Aaron ran to the car for a minute and had a hard time finding his way back to us.  It’s funny how dreams work.  Why would we dream such things the week before Max died?  Maybe God was talking to us.

At 3 am, we got a phone call.  It was Child Protective Services, CPS.  They wanted to meet with us.  Two men showed up about 45 minutes later.  They wanted to interview us separately.   They asked each of us to consent to a drug test.  It was unbelievable.   This was an entirely different nightmare.  They stayed with us until about 6 am.  They left for a while but returned within a couple hours to interview Morgan. 

They agreed our stories checked out.  They felt sorry for us, even gave us hugs.  But ultimately they decided that our three remaining children should be “placed” with my in-laws until our home county could clear us of any wrong doing.  Morgan was not allowed to ride home with us and we were not supposed to be alone with our children. 

I know they were just doing their job, but we were going through hell.  It took almost two weeks before we were visited in our home by the local CPS.  The lady that came out was very apologetic.  She checked to make sure the kids had a safe place to sleep and food in the pantry.  After a ten minute visit, she told us the kids could stay at home again.  We were just so thankful that this part of our nightmare was over. 

Twelve weeks after we lost Max, we finally got the autopsy results.  Max hadn’t drowned on his bottle.  It turns out Max had an undiagnosed heart condition, hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, HCM.  His heart was a normal size, but it weighed twice as much as it should have.  His cardiac muscle was very dense, which didn’t allow for his blood to flow correctly.   Usually when people die suddenly with this condition, it’s a teenager on the basketball court or football field.  It is nearly unheard of for this to happen to an infant.   My five month old son died because he had a heart attack.    

You will have to suffer only for a little while:  the God of all grace who called you to eternal glory in Christ will restore you, he will confirm, strengthen and support you.  His power lasts for ever and ever.  Amen. -1 Peter 5:10-11

 

“I have an ever deeper and firmer belief that nothing is merely an accident when seen in the light of God, that my whole life down to the smallest details has been marked out for me in the plan of Divine Providence and has a completely coherent meaning in God’s all-seeing eyes.” –St. Edith Stein