As I mentioned in a previous post Katie’s trach was placed in late April of 2015. The surgery went well and all seemed well. Then it didn’t for the next 24 hours we weren’t sure she was going to make it. She was on the highest settings and on so much medication that it could off a horse. I never in my entire 32 years on this planet felt so helpless looking at her in her crib unconscious and so sick. My husband couldn’t bare to be at the hospital because we got to have “the talk” with the doctor that maybe she might not make it through the night. I learned much later that a lot of the nurses, respiratory therapists and everyone else didn’t have much hope that she would make it through the night either. Which is still a kick in the gut months and months later.

I sat next to her crib for as long as I could just reading to her and praying to whoever or whatever would ensure her survival. Eventually I went home and wasn’t going to go back in that night because I was so exhausted but I kept thinking this might be it, this might be the last time I see my little girl and I need to be with her. I arrived back at the hospital and she started getting better. Her heart rate stabilized, her oxygen need went closer to normal and they were able to lower the settings on her ventilator. We literally went from this is it to oh my god she’s recovering. I’m not a religious woman but it was beyond a miracle and it still makes me tear up to think of it. Day by day she got better and better and before we knew it she was ready to come home. I’m so happy she’ll never remember any of this but I will and I will say I am not the person I used to be and it’s mostly for the better but you should see my medicine cabinet.

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