1 Year Has Past

1 year ago today, I was standing in my son's room, on the phone, tears pouring down my face.  I felt a panic attack coming, not knowing what to do . . . praying and asking God, why?

It was a beautiful spring day, I had spent the morning at a friends house.  I walked to pick up my daughter from preschool when I saw I had a text message from a team member who said their was an accident and one of our staff's son had an accident . . . and it was bad.  For the entire walk to pick up my daughter I prayed for Tim, for healing, prayed for wisdom for the doctors . . . . I prayed hard.  When I returned to my friends house I got a phone call from my husband who said that he had gone to the hospital (he was the communications director and needed to be on site), he said that Tim had been playing at a nearby apartment complex and had fallen through a window into the underground car park.  He said it was bad. 

When I got off the phone my friends I prayed again and then headed home.  Once home I talked to my husband again and that is when he told me, he said "Tim, isn't going to make it."  I burst into tears and started pacing around the house trying to catch my breath.  I couldn't believe it!!  Tim was going to die, my friend was losing her son!  How could this happen.  At this point my Chinese helper looked at me and asked what was wrong.  Through my tears I tried to talk, I tried to explain to her that my friend's son was dying.  It was so hard to say it out loud.  She become very concerned for me and told me I needed to calm down.  At this time I was 9 months pregnant (my due date was 1 week away) and she was nervous I was going to make myself go into labor.  I was pretty hysterical so I tried to calm down.

What do you do when you find out a 10 year old little boy isn't going to make it?  I decided that I had to go to the hospital, I didn't know what I would do there, but at least I would be there.  Plus, my husband needed his phone charger, because he needed his phone to stay  in contact with others.  So I said that I would bring it over, but before I could go over to the hospital, I had to wait for my friend to bring me my phone because I had left it at her house. 

I told my helper what I was planning and she started to yell at me and was very concerned for me.  She thought it was a terrible idea for me to go to the hospital, after all, if I was freaking out this much at home what would I do if I was at the hospital.  She was convinced I was going to put myself into labor.  I thanked her for her advise and said that I was going to go anyway . . . after all my husband needed his phone charger . . . plus it gave me something to do.

The hospital was only 2 short blocks away and the weather was so beautiful . . . too beautiful for this terrible accident to have occurred.   The fresh air was nice though, and it helped me to catch my breath, and once in the hospital I actually felt a little bit better.  I was "doing" something . . . . really just sitting with a bunch of other outside of the ICU . . . but at least we were close.  I remember when Tim's mom came out, she fell into her friends arms and began to cry but I remember even in her tears she had her beautiful smile on her face.  She wiped her tears away and talked to us a little bit.  I remember though every time she or her husband came out you could tell that they were obviously said but they kept calm through it all.  She sat down next to us and shared what was going on but headed back into the ICU after about 15 minutes.  The hospital really doesn't let visitors in the ICU - including parents, but had let Tim's parents in.  She didn't want to lose that privilege so she returned back to Tim's side.

At this point they were working on getting Tim transferred to Hong Kong to see if there would be anything that they could do for him there.  The health care in China is not as advanced as in other places in the world.  Our insurance company and staff worked very hard to get Tim medi-vac'd to Hong Kong as soon as possible.  It was the next day, Saturday, around dinner time that they finally were wheeling Tim out of the ICU and onto a plane to Hong Kong. 

Our staff had made sure that there were people outside the ICU all day and night while Tim was in the QD hospital.  When they wheeled him out, there were a good number of us, they stopped for a second, we prayed over him and then we sang as he wheeled him away.  I remember feeling so frightened and scared.  He was so little, so young.

My husband had been at the hospital for just about 24 hours, only coming home for a few hours of sleep the night before.  He now was going to head up a meeting for our staff.  I had to stay home because small children were not allowed.

During the meeting I remember feeling so torn, my friend - no - we all were losing a sweet little boy, but at the same time I was going to be giving birth to my second son any day.  I was just praying that I wouldn't go into labor.  I didn't have the strength or energy to do it.  How could I mourn the loss of Tim and celebrate the birth of my son?

When my husband finally came home that night I shared my concerns and fears.  It was comforting to talk with him, he understood what I was saying and said that death and birth is part of life.  (It doesn't sound comforting but it was at the time.)

Being the communications manger, my husband was the point man for any news.  So, when Tim arrived in Hong Kong safely we got a phone call.  Now we waited to hear what the hospital would have to say.

Sunday morning was another beautiful sunny day.  My family walked to McDonald's for breakfast and that is when Tim's mom called with the news.  The doctors said that there wasn't really anything they could do for him, he was brain dead.  His parents had decided to try and donate his organs, which meant that they were going to have to take him off of life-support soon.

At our fellowship service the news was shared with the community and spent the entire service singing and praying for a miracle.  We sang this song that really comforted me  "Blessed Be Your Name". (You can read my post from 1 year ago here.)  It says that in the good times we Bless His Name and in the hard times we Bless His Name.  God gives and God takes away.  In the birth of my son God is good, and in the death of Tim, God is good. 

It wasn't till Tuesday that Tim was actually pronounced and his organs were donated.  Tim's liver, kidneys and corneas were given to those who needed them.

Thursday morning I woke up and told my husband I thought that I was going to have a baby that day.  A few hours later my second son came into the world.  God had given me the strength to make it through the delivery and my mother was even able to be there!  (Huge blessing!!)  But when my son was born, he was not breathing, he wasn't moving, he was lifeless.  I thought of Tim and began to cry . . . "I'm going to lose my son too".  But after a very long and scary 10 minutes of suctioning, quiet prayers and tears my son was stabilized.

As I sit here, 1 year later, holding and nursing my 1 year old.  I give him extra kisses and hold him a little bit longer, squeeze him a little tighter as I shed a tear for my friend who no longer can do that to her son.  I grieve her loss and try not to take for granted what God has given me.