There's not a whole lot that could ever prepare you for a morning like what we experienced September 19th. Truly, it was the scariest, most overwhelming, frightening morning of my life and all I can say is praise our mighty God who was with us that day and protected Wyatt from anything worse than a drop in his blood sugar.
Wyatt woke up around 7:30 on Monday the 19th. The day before had been fairly normal, hanging out at Jude's birthday party and ending the day with a bike ride downtown for some pizza. Wyatt hadn't really napped much on Sunday, so his later wake up time didn't catch me too off guard. I figured he was catching up from the day before. When I went into his room, he was immediately very snuggly, which was odd, so I thought maybe he was still tired, so we laid back in our bed for a few minutes and to my surprise, Wyatt fell right asleep. Again, I chalked it up to missing naps the day before, so snuggled up with him and got a few more zzz's. I woke up at 8:00 to him starting to stir and got up and started getting going for the day. I put Wyatt on the floor beside our bed like I normally do, but he didn't take off for the door on all fours as usual. Instead he just sat there, sucking his fingers and rubbing his head. Something was off. I remembered how the day before Scott had mentioned Wyatt was acting pretty lethargic during shower time, and wondered if this was what he meant. I stopped what I was doing and picked him up only to have him rest his head on my shoulder. On any other day I probably would have been so stoked for his wanting to cuddle, but the behavior prior just made his snuggles seem more out of place and odd than out of love. I started to get really concerned so I went to change his diaper, and as I was doing so, he started closing his eyes and before I knew it, his eyes were rolling back in his eyelids. I started to panic and mid diaper change let go of his legs I was holding up to finish, only to have them flop down on the pad uncontrollably. I finished getting his diaper on and picked up Wyatt and ran to the phone. He was nearly asleep again, or passed out or something, I had no idea. I called Scott at work and told him to come home immediately. Then I called my mom, because certainly she would know what I needed to do and before I ever got all the words out, "there's something wrong with Wyatt" she replied with, "hang up and call 911."
I have tears in my eyes just writing this out two months later. The next 3 minutes were the worst. I don't even know how to explain the fear and panic I was in. The 911 dispatcher was so patient and kind and I'm not sure she even could understand what I was saying between breaths of sobs and screaming out of fear for why I couldn't get my son to respond to me. I was pacing by the front door waiting for help and the sound of sirens had never been so comforting. Within minutes the whole brigade showed up, first the police man, then the paramedics then the firemen.
It was one of those moments where you don't really believe or want to believe what you are seeing. A gurney being rolled into your entryway, men dressed in full firefighter attire, paramedics attending to your son who is laying on the floor, mellow and reserved, clearly not himself, neighbors standing in the streets wondering what is going on...all while you are standing frozen in the midst of it all, wearing nothing but the clothes (or lack their off) you slept in the night before, so discombobulated that when they ask for your son's Kaiser card, you bring them his immunization card, or when the phone rings the firefighter has to answer for you and let you know your husband is on the line.
We rode to the hospital in the ambulance. Scott followed behind in his truck and on the way there, one of the medics discovered Wyatt's glucose levels were at 41. At the hospital they admitted us to the ER and from there our stay turned into hours of waiting for doctors and unsuccessful blood draws. We learned that a normal blood level should at the lowest be around 80. Wyatt was slowing starting to regain his spark, but was still pretty mellow. He slept and let us hold him. We were eventually moved up to Pediatrics and asked to stay the night so they could monitor Wyatt and try to run some labs. However, after over a dozen unsuccessful attempts at a blood draw, we asked they stop trying unless it was guaranteed to work. It was torture holding Wyatt down and watching them poke him like a pin pad. Due to his slight "chubbyness" and small veins, the blood draw was apparently impossible. We asked that they stop and his doctor came up with a plan B.
Seeing as no labs were done, it was hard to say what exactly caused his blood sugar to drop so low. The doctor thought it could have been that he was fighting a bit of a cold combined with not eating a ton the day before. Her best case scenario was to chalk it up to a fluke incident, but requested that we test his blood for a week to follow.
The next morning we were able to go home and it was a welcomed discharge from the hospital, and the worst 24 hours I'd ever experienced.
A big thanks to all our family and friends for your prayers and sweet texts, calls and emails during those few days. It was a blessing to have family so close and willing to travel to be with us. We appreciate you all and are so thankful to have you in our lives!