Part four: Seeing our babies

We have two babies. By babies, I mean we have a little boy who turned 3 in April and a little girl who is 18 months old. They are our world. While most people say I don't know what we did before we had kids?! I do know... I slept more, relaxed more, spent less money, swept less floors, and knew what "me" time was. I also never knew what love like that could feel like.

Ryan and I went to the hospital in the middle of the night. They went to bed at our house with us there and woke up to their Mimi instead. Wyatt is at the age where he asks 7658 questions a day. I know he was constantly asking about Ryan and at first we simply said he was just sleeping. It was easier that way. He understands that when you are sleeping you just sleep until you need to wake up. No true concept of time so it was easy for us to say sorry, daddy is still sleeping when he asked to talk to Ryan.

I went two whole days without seeing the kids during the hardest time of my life. A time when I needed their love. Luckily my best friend lives minutes away so my parents brought them to Haley's house so that I could see them, but still be close enough if something went south with Ryan.

It was so emotional. These little souls who are full of such innocence were now before me and all I could see in them was their daddy. It hurt my heart so much. While I knew that God would take care of Ryan there were moments the devil tried to take over and say and if he doesn't? What will you do then? It was again me having to push those thoughts out and confidently tell my children that their daddy would wake up soon and he would be home soon.

I sat a lot in silence just admiring my babies. These two precious gifts that the Lord trusted us with.  I am so thankful for friends that just let me be. That are okay with silence. That don't feel the need to talk, but rather to just listen.

To hear those babies laugh, to give me nothing but positive energy was just what I needed that day. I needed to see those little pieces of Ryan that I had been missing and what could only be found in our children.

Back at the hospital, Ryan had to be paralyzed as well as knocked out cold because they didn't want him to know he was paralyzed. It was good though because he was flailing around like a mad man. Well, maybe not flailing but definitely trying to get the vent out and that was definitely not okay. It was mostly a waiting game at this time. Just waiting to see how his body responded. They did say that dialysis would have to be started because his had complete kidney failure. Instead of doing the usual dialysis they had to do CRRT which takes a tiny bit of blood, filters it, and returns it to the body. It's easier on the body and for Ryan it was the only way they could get even a tiny bit of fluid off him. Ryan maxed out at 190+ pounds. To give you a point of reference, on a good day Ryan weighs maybe 150. His body responded well to the CRRT. They still had him on high oxygen from the vent and his PEEP was extremely high which is not ideal. I can't even tell you what the PEEP really is even after all those days of carefully watching it. I do know that his vent was at 100% oxygen and his PEEP was at 18 and it was not good as long as it was going on. The rest of the day we just asked for prayers that his vent would be lowered and that his heart would start performing better.

This is also the day that my friend Brooke had someone design the green ribbon. It immediately was plastered all over Facebook. I was blown away by all the support. Seeing the support from all the green ribbons was incredible. I honestly couldn't scroll through Facebook without seeing it everywhere. I like to think, whether or not it is true, that all those green ribbons were those who were constantly praying for us, and it was a lot.

People constantly surprise me. The people who were praying for my entire family was such a blessing. We are a testament to how the power of prayer works. I hope if you take away anything from Ryan's story it's to not get lazy or comfortable with your prayers. Prayers for you or on someone else's behalf. 

Part three: Trust

There are things in life that overwhelm you. Moms, I'm talking to you. Think about that first day you're left alone with a newborn. You're pulled in ten different directions at one time, but somehow you survive the day.  This is how it felt that first day in the hospital. At times I wasn't sure if I was coming or going or if this was all just a dream. Our immediate family was there first along with Trey who helped so much getting the word out to all Ryan's friends.  By the late afternoon the waiting room was packed. I so wish I had a picture to show Ryan of how nearly every seat taken in that waiting room was for him. I am so thankful the chaplain suggested to someone to pass around a sheet of paper and have everyone sign it.

I knew Ryan was loved. I know how lovable he is. I know how he can captivate any room he walks into. I know people are naturally drawn to him whether they like it or not. 

I'm just lucky enough to get to do life with him. 

I'm not sure how many people were there that day. I do know the next morning I counted 64 names, but that wasn't even close to the number of people who stopped by for a few minutes and missed the paper. 

That was a testament to how wonderful a person Ryan is. The person who everyone thought was their best friend. Most people meet someone and they simply become an acquaintance. With Ryan, he makes you feel like you are the most important person in the world. Special. He does it so naturally. It's an admirable trait. 

I never once was bothered telling the story of the day's events. If I'm being completely honest, it helped me. The nonstop talking was good for me. I needed my mind occupied. I needed to tell people that they could help me and Ryan by just praying for him. I needed these people more than I probably realized at the time. 

That evening when the last person left for the day I established my ritual that I had every night. I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and then headed to the chapel. 

That was MY time. The quiet time I had each day to really reflect on what was happening, where God was taking us as a couple and family, and where I shared what I desperately needed from Him. Each night, without shame, I did the ugly cry. Those nights sitting in that chapel were some of the best nights I've had. The calm I felt walking out of there to head to bed is what peacefully led me to fall asleep each night.

The first night was the hardest of course. I couldn't completely turn my mind off and the fact that I had been up for nearly 24 hours didn't seem to matter. I finally drifted off to sleep when I was abruptly awoken around 3:30 with Ryan's nurse stepping in there. As soon as she said "Mrs. Davis" I think I stopped breathing.

She turned on the harsh fluorescent lights and our family who stayed that night in the waiting room poured in as well when she let us know that Ryan was okay, but that he coded once again. They aren't entirely sure why it happened, but thankfully they got his vitals right back to where they were and he even asked to see me. I immediately went back and stayed with him for an hour until I felt comfortable enough to try and fall back asleep.

That would be the last time that Ryan ever coded and would need CPR. Like I said, they aren't sure why it happened, but the fact that they got him back where he needed to be was good.

Nothing else major happened that morning. He was responding well to his meds and was stable.

It wasn't until that afternoon when Dr. Jones came out and we gathered around when he delivered the second biggest blow. They had found that Ryan had numerous blood clots. Later, we would learn they just referred to him as one big clot. The good news in all of this was that Ryan didn't have any in his legs. In the beginning, I was the only one getting to go back and see Ryan, but it was at this point that Dr. Jones told us that we all needed to go back and see him. It honestly felt like it was to be our last goodbyes. Dr. Jones told us that we needed another miracle to happen. Then, he got up and walked out.

It's devastating knowing that you're helpless. There's nothing that you can do other than rely on your faith. I prayed constantly. I had faith that God knew what he was doing and that one day He would show us the why. I never once during this entire ordeal asked why us? Why Ryan? What did we do to deserve it? I simply sat and listened and believed I would soon understand. I was given the perfect opportunity to glorify God in every way. I mean, He had shown us what miracles He can perform when He brought Ryan back. Without hesitation I knew that's what had to be done. I would thank him, along with hundreds of people, for blessing us so far. I would ask that God's will be done whether I agreed with it or not. I trusted Him with every being in my body.

I'm a control freak by nature. It's one of my more prominent flaws and like the others, I am working on it. Sure, I could definitely work harder, but at least I try a little. Shameful? Yes. Easily fixed? Maybe. When you're no longer able to be the one to be in control you have to have a lot of trust. God gave me the opportunity to sit back and let Him take the reigns, just like we should do in every aspect of our lives. Sadly, I think a lot of times we push Him out and think that we can do it all ourselves. We are so wrong. I'm guilty of it, and I know that I am not alone.

So, I trusted Him and He provided. He continues to provide for us each day that we are home with our children and Ryan gets to love on them. He will provide and be there for us as we tackle surgery tomorrow to remove the mass on Ryan's adrenal gland.

He loves us and He walks beside us every step of the way. All we have to do is let Him.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5-6

Part two: Surviving day one

Miracle

1. an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is ascribed to a supernatural cause.

2. such an effect or event manifesting or considered as a work of God.

3. a wonder; marvel.

4. a wonderful or surpassing example of some quality

 

When Dr. McCracken told us we needed a miracle to turn a corner the only option we had left was to continue to ask for prayers. We so desperately needed these prayers and by this point it was simply by word of mouth. Word spread quickly of Ryan's illness. My phone was blowing up and I was fiercely trying to keep everyone in the loop because I knew the more people who knew the better off we were. 

We learned quickly there was little hope for Ryan. His entire organ system was shutting down. They told us their plan of action was to transport him to Arkansas Children's Hospital where Ryan would receive an ECMO since Baptist didn't have all the parts needed. They said this was the only option they had since his lungs and heart were barely working. At this point we were fine with the decision. All along we trusted the doctor's calls. A short time later they returned and delivered the devastating news: Ryan was no longer eligible for the ECMO. Candidates are ran through a checklist. One of the major requirements is that there is brain activity. This is when we learned that Ryan had none. A devastating blow to say the least. I'm human...I'm flawed. To hear your husband has zero brain activity hits you like a ton of bricks. You instantly picture his quality of life. You picture trying to explain it to your 3 and 1 year old. You remember signing the papers of your trust stating neither of us wanted a machine keeping us alive. Then, then you push out those thought and say no. Stop. This is not what's going to happen. He's going to be okay. The doctors did give us a glimmer of hope saying they believed Ryan's body was just in shock and that hopefully there would be activity once the initial shock wore off. They said they would be checking vitals every 15-20 minutes hoping they would see a change.

And we did.

Within 45 minutes we were told there WAS brain activity, Ryan was awake, and wanted to see me. 

We had received our miracle we so desperately asked for! God is good all the time. 

I got to see Ryan. SEE Ryan. He opened his eyes and he was IN there. My heart was full. As soon as I walked in the nurse asked Ryan if he knew who I was and he nodded yes. Then I asked my own questions and he responded appropriately. Relief flooded me knowing that my husband was there. His brain function was normal as far as we could tell. I knew that he could beat whatever it was that had made him so sick.

I guess now is a good as a time as any to say that during those two hours after we got to have a small visit with Ryan before they intubated him was when Ryan coded many times. They literally worked on him for two hours trying to get him back. It was a miracle that he was able to get stable and we are forever grateful that the doctors and nurses worked on him as long as they did.  Ryan had no prior medical history. No drug use. No illness. Nothing. The two things that he had going for him was the he was healthy and young. Those two reasons alone are why they chose to work on him for as long as he did. Dr. Jones, the cardiologist that we absolutely adore, told us the room was a mess from everything they were poking him with trying to get him back. It was only after the fact of learning this that it made perfect sense why Ryan was lifeless when we got to see him in CCU.

Ryan's pupils were blown. This, to a normal person (me), meant nothing when I heard the neurologist say it. The nurse even showed me, but again I was ignorant. Later, on the day we toured the hospital with Dr. Jones he told me that was when he thought Ryan was braid dead.

Slowly, however, his pupils returned back to normal. To God be the glory!

The rest of that day was pretty uneventful. The ECMO that was at once our only option was now off the table. Ryan was so far from needing that now and it was answer to our prayers. It was incredible that this was our first real victory. We were all on such a high and this is when our tensions eased a bit. The doctors kept Ryan sedated because it allowed his body to rest which it desperately needed.

 We had nearly survived the first day before the next hiccup occurred.
 

Part one: The beginning

It's hard to determine where Ryan's story should begin. It's hard to look back and realize just how close I came to losing Ryan. Becoming a widow. Learning to raise my children as a single mom. That, throughout this entire ordeal, was my number one fear. I sometimes wish parts of it were a blur, but they aren't. They are perfectly stored in my memory. Strangely I am thankful. It's probably best to do this in parts. A 32 day stay in a hospital with those first few days being a complete rollercoaster will get lengthy. So, let's start with part one.

I am happy to say though, that by the grace of God Ryan is still with me and our children today.

Saturday, July 12, 2014 is a day that is just as important to me now as say my wedding anniversary, my children's birthday, and my husband's birthday. Ryan nearly lost his life on this day and it was the day my faith was strengthened.

It was any normal Friday.  Ryan came home from work, we went to a fundraiser, went to dinner with friends, came home, went to bed. Around 1:30 Ryan started throwing up and I didn't give it a second thought. I simply thought that his dinner didn't agree with him. He continued to throw up and when he didn't stop and then proceeded to dry heave I crawled out of bed seeing if he needed anything. This is when he started coughing very deeply, so deeply that he began coughing up a pink blood tinged mucus. I just thought it was from throwing up so hard and dry heaving so while worried, I was thinking it would stop. We tried laying back down a couple of times when the coughing continued and that's when I told Ryan I was calling mom to come sit with the babies and we were heading to the hospital.

We got to the Dardanelle hospital and there they did a chest x-ray and diagnosed Ryan with what they believed was a blood clot in the lung. The immediately said that we were heading to Baptist in Little Rock. I think this is when Ryan and I both realized the severity of the situation. He was taken to Baptist by ambulance and once he arrived we didn't see him for close to an hour. The three of us (me, Ryan's mom, and step-dad) were taken from the large emergency room waiting area to a private room where we were told the doctors would be with us shortly. My heart began to sink and my throat tightened making it hard to breathe. Honestly, I expected the worse, but as those doctors came in,  sat down and said, "He is a very, very sick man and we do not know what's wrong with him" my world was crushed. Doctors are supposed to know what wrong. They are supposed to deliver the answers and in this case they couldn't. They told us they would need to sedate him and put him on the ventilator in order to run some test and figure out what was wrong with him. They told us that we would be able to see him, but it needed to be quick because they needed to hurry and figure out as much as they could. I went back to see him and I saw it. I saw the fear in Ryan's eyes and I put on my brave face. Whether or not it was actually brave to him is beyond me, but I think it was at that moment that both of our fighting spirits kicked it. Ryan fighting for his life, me fighting for any and every prayer I could get out of someone. Ryan told me, "take care of our babies" and "I love you". I told him he was going to be fine, I loved him, and I would see him soon. It was the truth. No matter what happened, whether Ryan walked out of those doors of the hospital or he was greeting me in Heaven one day Ryan was going to be healed, loved, and we'd be reunited again someday. The hardest moment was kissing him, not knowing the outcome. I returned to the waiting room where the first thing I did was call my parents and update our closest friends. Then, I posted on our church's Facebook page asking for prayers. I knew Ryan needed prayers. Prayers from those that know us, prayers from those that don't. Soon after being in the waiting room a chaplain came by. The first prayer from someone who didn't know us. The first, but definitely not the last.

We sat for nearly two hours until we finally saw a doctor again. If you've never been in an emergency type situation, you must know that seeing the doctors turn a corner is the single most nauseating thing ever. You can't breath, your heart rate increases, and they can't get to you quick enough. They told us that Ryan was finally half way stable that they felt comfortable enough to move him to the Coronary Care Unit. Unbeknownst to us, this would be his home for the next 16 days.

One of the first things the doctors told us was this was going to be a rollercoaster. It was going to be a constant up and down.

They didn't know what was wrong with Ryan.

The doctors they had on board were the kidney dr, lung dr, heart dr, infectious disease dr, blood dr, and neurologist.

When they got Ryan in CCU and stable they came out and told us that we could go back and see Ryan. My husband, once full of so much life laid there completely motionless. If anyone could look dead, but still be living it was Ryan at that very moment. There was nothing there. Nothing. Little did I know that at that very moment literally there was nothing. No brain activity, just machines keeping his body working.

After we got to see him we were back in our little private room in the CCU waiting room. That would be my living quarters during Ryan's stay. This is when Dr. McCracken (lung) came in to talk to us, tell us what she believed, ask us questions, and the minute before she left she said, "we need a miracle and we need it now."

3 year old cool

Wyatt's three. He is a super cool, super rad, super sweet, super particular lover of laundry and he holds a special place in my heart. 

THESE are the days the every mother talks about. The days you never want to forget. The days that you would give your right arm for. The days every parent wishes they could get back even if it were for a minute. The days when a simple question asked for the 67th times has you wanting to pull your hair out. The days when no matter how much you think you love them, something completely out of the blue has your heart bursting into a million pieces. 

Wyatt's three.

The age that seemed so far away, yet here we are. 

The age where potty training is something you both look forward to and dread. 

Wyatt's three. The age where I see his personality shining and I can't help but be anything but proud. 

I absolutely love his age right now. We can carry full conversations about the most mundane things, but they're things that mean the world to him. I love the random I love yous. The "I always love you mommy" I get in return when I whisper I love you to him. When he yearns for approval. The, "do you like it?" I get when he makes something for us. The "what we got tomorrow?" that he so desperately asks each day because he has to know what's ahead of him. The way daddy will be home in "4 more minutes" or the "just one more time and dats it" when he wants another sip of his daddy's Dr. Pepper. The "am I not listening?" when I'm having to repeat myself telling him to get in his car seat. 

Wyatt's three. He is his daddy's shadow and there isn't anything he wouldn't do for him. He refuses to wear a shirt to bed because that's how daddy sleeps. 

He mimics everything his daddy does. He wants to be just like him and lives for the minute that Ryan walks through the door. 

My baby is three. 

He is a lover of chocolate milk and laundry. Popcorn before bed and goldfish with cherries and berries fruit snacks. Green undies over blue undies. Daddy's hugs over mommy's kisses. He loves his Sissy with a deep passion. He loves to use the "clicker" every day to open the garage. Driving from the cemetery to the house. Scout. 

My baby is three.The boy who is still just a baby and I see it when he is tired. The boy who crawls up into our arms when he's scared and the boy who will forever be my baby. 

Three is an awesome age. Three is when I truly realized for the first time that Wyatt Hudson was becoming a little boy. One heck of a cool dude. 

Keeping up with Claire: Week 52

The next episode

Hold up, hey...

If you can guess the song that I was clearly singing when I typed that then +1 for you. I can tell we are going to be best friends. A long, long time ago I decided to blog to document my upcoming nuptials. For the record, we are still happily married. That's a rare thing now days so I thought I'd clarify. Then, we had a kid and 21 months later another one. Life got busy. Blogging took a backseat, but I finally feel like I've got my crap together again that I can really do what I love.

That last sentence was a lie.

This is the crap that happened and I'm in denial... 

My little boy who will be 3 next month moved into his own big bed and was actually excited.

And my little lady, rode forward facing for the first time.Clearly, that isn't her seat, but it was acceptable for her to ride that way in her brother's chair.

Can someone one please just pass me another coke and rum so I can drown my sorrows?

My littles are growing up on me and I want them to have something to remember our days by. The good days, the bad days, the way their parents loved each other, the way their parents wanted to punch the other in the face. I want it all here, again, so hopefully I can get back into the groove of blogging. You know, because I have so much time in the world.

I guarantee Ryan will read that sentence there and silently curse me because it looks like a bomb went off in the living room. If he mentions it I guess my only option is to take him to the bedroom to get his mind off of things. You know, because Wyatt did all the laundry from there, the bed is made, junk isn't covering the floor, and it gives the appearance that I've got my shizz together.. Gah, where was your mind going?