Two years ago today, we had been up all night in hospital waiting rooms as Hannah’s life hung in the balance. At around 6 AM we got our first real update on her condition. We were told that she appeared to have significant brain damage from the lack of oxygen to her brain from the anaphylaxis, the collapse of her lung, and her heart stopping for several minutes. We were told that it didn’t look good, but since she was young and had been healthy, only time would tell how bad it really was….. The next step was an MRI after 48 hours. We thanked the doctor then we were allowed to see her and stay with her.
Walking into the ICU and seeing our daughter lying lifeless in the bed, on a ventilator, IVs, EEG, feeding tube, and suction to keep her lung inflated was difficult! The whole night had been a whirlwind of unimaginable experiences, frantic anticipation, incredible helplessness, and coming face to face with our deepest fears. But in that room, as we moved in, there was a certain sense of calm. We understood the prognosis, but we had been living under the constant threat of her dying for so long that just knowing she was alive and “safe,” in that moment, was a relief. It was kind of like the pause button had been hit on all of the anxieties of the previous eight hours. She was completely paralyzed and sedated to “give her body the best chance to heal.” We could talk to her and hold her hand, but she could not respond. There was nothing to do but pray and wait. Like being in the eye of the hurricane, there was a lot more storm to face and a lot to fear, but on this day, she was still alive, finally stable, and there was hope!
