Part Two

When we arrived at the hospital, I dropped Dylan off at the emergency department, then went to park the car. By the time Rachael and I got to the front door of the hospital, Dylan had already been taken into the cardiac ward of the emergency department. We at that point were unable to go in and see him.

What I now know was going on in that room was that Dylan had been hooked up to EEGs,

ECGs, blood thinners and what seemed like a maze of wires and drips. According to the machines, Dylan was having a heart attack. In reality,( and I am forever grateful), Dylan had developed Pericarditis. Pericarditis is an inflammation and hardening of the fluid around the heart. Apparently excrutiatingly painful. He was admitted the hospital in the C.C.U. which just happened to be right around the corner from my Grandmother who was admitted the same night. Once things had settled(for lack of a better term) because Dylan was confined to the bed, my Grandmother(once a"League of Mercy visitor with the Salvation Army) and visitors were able to visit both Grandma Mary and Dylan at the same time. My dear Grandma Mary, weakened, frail and at the best of times forgetful, managed to come down the hall (with supervision) to have a visit with Dylan. This was something she used to do when she was younger. Being a true Salvationist, she would make visits to people in the hospital for various reasons, whether they were from the Army or not. We did not know this at the time, but this would be her last "official" visit as an active member of the League of Mercy. Having Alzheimer's, she's probably long forgotten.

Emotions were tight, but what kept me going was my faith. I had to keep my faith. Faith that God would answer prayer, keep us safe, comfort and protect all of us.

Dylan was in the Cardiac Care Unit for 4 days. Released again, under my care. By this time I felt like a total failure. As if it were all my fault. If only I had been a better caretaker. Fear set in, I felt paralyzed by it, engulfed by it, completely absorbed by fear. I think I went that night to a meeting of AA, or spoke to my sponsor, and was taught again to 'have faith' God doesn't ever give us more than we can handle. Fear=Lack of Faith

F.A.I.T.H. meant 'Father Always In Thy Hands', and more words of wisdom. The fellowship and support was overwhelming. At the same time, however(and I don't mean to be ungrateful), I wished that God would stop having such confidence in me to 'handle' all of this. The 'pity me' almost drove me mad.

Dylan slowly got better, and something amazing happened. Dylan's employers do not have health insurance of any kind, and knowing that we had just purchaced our new home, with me not working, brought us his cheque every week, right to our door. Without thier generosity, and thoughtfulness we surely would not have managed. As we slowly unpacked we began to have time to prepare for the baby only two short months ahead.

Moving right along, Robbie was delivered naturally on January 17, 2005. At a mere 5 lbs 0 oz.

IUGR is what they labeled him with, severely malnourished, dehydrated and born with hypospadias, which is being corrected by reconstructive surgery January 10th of 2006.

After the took him away to be hooked up to glucose, and incubated, and monitored, the focus shifted to me. "The bleeding isn't stopping" I heard one nurse say. The doctor came over and just by the looks of their faces, I knew something was terribly wrong.

They would all gather in the hall to talk. This can't be good, I thought.

to be continued

Love Barbara