A Taste of Death

I never posted anything on this when it happened, so I want to post it now.

A year ago today, I was admitted into the ICU suffering from Septic Shock. I hadn't been feeling well for three days. I had gotten worse and worse. It started out as pain in my breast, which I attributed to mastitis from breastfeeding. I got the antibiotics the same day it started. However, instead of getting better like the nurses had said I would, I was getting worse. Every time I called the doctors for help they told me to give the antibiotics more time to work. The pain became so great I would not eat, and yet I was throwing up every few hours. I had an infant child I was still trying to feed and I was still going to school.

Two days after the pain started, my doctors finally let me come in for fluids, because Kevin called and freaked out on them. I think they were surprised when I limped into the office. They gave me a fast acting antibiotic and said if I didn't feel better by tomorrow they would help me go to the hospital.

I didn't last the night. At 3 AM the pain was so intense I couldn't take it anymore, and I told Kevin to grab Liam and take me to the ER. We got in, and they started running blood tests. We still thought this was a bad case of mastitis. However, when they took my blood pressure and saw that it was dangerously low, and saw, from the tests, that my kidneys were failing. They said I was in septic shock and would be put into the ICU immediately.

For some reason I don't remember much after that about my hospital stay. Lots of bright lights, quick decisions, signatures, needles, and drugs.

I ended up getting a central line connected from my neck to my heart that pumped antibiotics. I had four IV lines in, and I had to be given oxygen. I spent three days in there.

The doctors said, once I was able to think straight again, that if I had not come in when I did they didn't think they would've been able to save me. They had never seen a case like mine and had been up several nights trying to figure out how to save my life. And those doctors, truly did, save my life. I was told by several nurses that I was the youngest person in the ICU they had ever seen suffering from Shock.

After almost a week in the hospital, I was allowed to go home. I just remember being achy everywhere. I also had to have a PICC line installed in my shoulder, so I (or should I say Kevin) could continue giving me antibiotics through an IV.

For the next several months, I struggled with everyday life. My mom and dad couldn't stay to take care of me, because I had seven siblings at home that needed them too. Friends (beautiful, amazing, friends) and a few of Kevin's awesome siblings came to help me for the first few weeks. They helped me so much. I was so defeated to have to ask for help, but I really couldn't do it.

I couldn't eat much. Couldn't lift Liam by myself. I couldn't walk well. And every few hours I needed to be given antibiotics. Seriously... I was on so many different antibiotics and pain meds that I can't tell you any of their names.  I ended up losing about 30 pounds because of all this. Which put me at about a hundred pounds.

I ended up having another abscess form in my breast a month later. It ended up exploding out of my skin (gross stuff).  I have a permanent scar there. A few months after that, I started losing handfuls of hair and suffered from severe vitamin D deficiency. Luckily, many doctors coached me through and these new worries subsided after a few months.

I look back at this time and I remember a ghost of a girl. She cried every night, couldn't sleep without waking up in a puddle of her own sweat, couldn't leave the house, couldn't lift her arm up because of bruising, and only could hold her baby if someone gave him to her. She thought she was dying everyday and that it wouldn't get better. She thought God had forgot about her again. She piled up the trials in her life, and said that no God would've given so much to her to bear.

I'm 23 and I've... gotten married, had a son, had a stillborn son, had a literal near death experience, and I graduated from college. Man, I'm tired. I sometimes feel like I've aged in decades more than individual years since graduating high school. Real life is hard, and I mean it. haha.

But looking back at this particular experience, a year later, I find myself in tears. I did get better. I can lift my arm. I can lift my kid. Heck, I can run again (like a goof, but still)! All things have their time, and they shall pass.

The Lord allowed me to stay in this world. He let me regain my strength. He sent angels to help me as I struggled. He made sure I had a man like Kevin to bear things with me. He let me see how everyday is a gift and how fast life can pass before our eyes. I'm not very good at putting my feelings into words, but I testify of the divine mercies of the Lord. He may not give everything back the way it was. Like I will probably never be able to breastfeed again, but I'm ok. The Lord is good. And I have faith that He only gets better as we continue to serve Him. Christ is where my strength comes from, and with that, I will never be weak.

A picture I took of my little family before we left Utah. 

This is me taking a shower at the hospital... because of all the IV lines, I could only use a shower cap thing and some soap wipes. Oh and don't worry, I told Kev to take the picture. I thought I looked ridiculous. 

Last day in the hospital. I told Kev I wanted lots of pictures, and I
wanted to be smiling in all of them.

So this is all the crap I was on for like two months afterwards! 

This is what I'm talking about... so like on top of all the people coming to help us.
People gave us these little gifts too. It touched us in so many ways. 

Little Liam and his mommy. I got obsessed with taking pictures of us
together after everything, because I realized I could've died and
didn't have many pictures with him. I've since calmed down.

.