My baby had tubes coming out of EVERY part of his body, the top of his head, a few in his chest, his arms, his legs, his stomach-EVERYWHERE. My heart broke and I would not leave his side. Over the next few days he swelled to twice his weight.

On the fourteenth of June, he almost died and had to be revived. He was dark blue and his heart rate was beating way faster than it was supposed to. His blood pressure was dropping and he wasn’t responding to any medications. He was losing blood and had to have a blood transfusion.

At this point I asked for the catholic priest to come and say a prayer for him. The Seattle Seahawks cheerleaders came to see him and left an autographed poster. His kidneys were not working and he had not produced urine in days. I asked the doctor what I could do.

“Your kid is the sickest kid in this hospital, his chances of making it are next to nothing” he said. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I thought he was just going to have surgery and go home. I continued sitting with him, I hadn’t showered in days, wasn’t eating. He was getting worse.

He had so many doctors that I never got the same answer.

I was looking at him one day and he opened his eyes, turned his head and looked at me. I could see the pain in his eyes. I felt like he was pleading for me to stop it. I asked to take him off of life support. Who was I to do this to a child, just because I didn’t want to lose him? The doctor said “no, we can save him”. So I listened, hoping still.

On the 16th of June I was sitting beside him when his heart rate began to slow, and he peed for the first time! Good signs! The nurse said he was improving so I decided to run back to the hotel and take a quick shower, the first time I was ever to leave his side.

I was given a pager.