Almost a tragedy.

I have been a big slacker with writing on the blog since starting it. I never know what to write about. I worry I will sound funny, or come across in a different manner than what I intended.

Today, I'd really like to take some time and share a piece of me with you. After prayerful consideration, I'm putting myself out there. Here is my story.

As we are approaching the 1 year mark from when this happened, I don't want to share this with the world. I still fear being judged. I still worry what people will think of me as a mother for not having been able to prevent this. I know that this was not my fault. But my heart still aches, even now, a year later. I need to share this. A year later, I am still suffering with the pain and anxiety of the "what-ifs".

I really hope by sharing this with more people, I can go through the process of healing that I've been struggling with since this happened.

Through a lot of tears, in March 2010, I wrote down how I was feeling about the whole ordeal we'd just been through. It may not be the most eloquent thing you have ever read, but the message it carries is extremely important for everyone. Not just parents. Everyone.

Here it goes:

It's been extremely hard for me to talk about this, and I want to share this story with you all in hopes that someone can learn something from our experience and more importantly, in hopes that this type of situation can be prevented for another family.

On November 17th, 2009 we woke up at 8:30am to find that our son Jeremiah, was still asleep. This was highly unusual. He had slept all night long for the first time, and was still fast asleep. I was immediately scared that something was wrong. We co-slept until he was about 13 months old, so he was right by my side. I placed my hand on his chest and very gently shook him to wake him up. He didn't budge. I picked him up, sat him up on our bed. He opened his eyes, smiled a very weak smile and then closed his eyes and flopped over. My husband got the phone and I called the pediatrician. I described his symptoms and was instructed to go to the ER, which was my initial gut feeling. We rushed to get ready, so much so that I didn't even remember to put socks on.

When we got to the ER, his breathing was very shallow and the doctors really had no idea what was wrong with him. They asked us many many questions, including asking us if there was any possibility that he had ingested a drug or other substance. "No." was our reply. "We don't have drugs in our home." Everything that happened next is such a blur to me. Honestly, I was so distraught, all I remember is laying on the hospital bed in bare feet holding my son and praying to God that he would be okay. After numerous tests, including X-rays and CT scans, the results of a standard urine test came in. The doctor came in and requested that everyone except for my husband and I leave the room. She said "I need you both to be 100% honest with me. Your son tested positive for an Opiate - a painkiller - and we need to know what he took so we can treat him." My whole body went completely numb-an Opiate?? HOW DID HE INGEST AN OPIATE!? We were in complete shock, and we told the doctor that we had no idea where it could have come from. At that moment, the only explanation we could think of was that he found something on the floor at church the day before when we were there for a Luncheon. After talking for a few minutes, we remembered that we had inherited furniture from an Uncle who was dying of bone cancer - he certainly was on painkillers. Maybe he dropped a pill in the chair or couch and the vacuum missed it?

Then they asked my husband to step out of the room, and the doctor spoke to me alone. I was nursing him, to help comfort him from the pain and confusion of getting an IV placed in his arm. She asked me if my husband had ever threatened me or my son, and then asked if I had taken anything that could be passed through my breastmilk to Jeremiah. "No, my husband is an amazing husband and father" I said to her. "I don't even drink caffeine because it can pass through my milk to him. I don't know how this could have happened." At this point, I was completely hysterical and crying my eyes out. I know they were doing their job and looking out for the best interest of Jeremiah, but it hurt deeply to be "accused" of doing this to him. They started him on Oxygen because his O2 Levels weren't high enough, then they started talking about Narcam, a drug that is used to reverse the effects of narcotics. I was so scared. Ultimately, the IV fluids were enough to begin flushing out his system and thankfully there was no damage to his kidneys or liver. He was on heart monitors, covered in wires- it was horrible. They allowed my husband to come back into the room, and explained to us that they would be contacting Child Protective Services. I understood why they had to, but it hurt a lot knowing that they thought that we could have done this to him.

We were admitted to the hospital so they could observe Jeremiah for a minimum of 24 hours. At this point, we were told that he would make a full recovery, so that gave me some relief, but I was still terrified. The what-ifs that ran through my mind, and honestly that STILL run through my mind 4 months later. This could have killed him. He could have gone to sleep, and never woken up. He could have died. Over and over I think about this. And we didn't even know HOW this happened? We couldn't stop it from happening because we didn't know where he could have possibly gotten a hold of this. I still wake up with nightmares in the middle of the night, in a cold sweat, crying and hysterical. I go into his room and just lay on the floor next to his crib, just listening to him breath and watching him sleep.

CPS came into our hospital room the next morning and spoke with us about the "incident". They asked us the same questions over and over, worded in slightly different ways, and then requested that both my husband and I take drug tests, which we willingly did and passed, of course. They also asked us to open our home to them for them to do a formal home inspection. We, of course, willingly granted their request. The social worker was "pleased" and said that we would be contacted with the final report and that there was nothing to worry about.

A couple weeks went by, and we celebrated Jeremiah's 1st Birthday with our families. It was so bittersweet because throughout the entire day I just came thinking "Thank you God that he is still here with us and that this accident didn't take him away from us." I felt to guilty that I couldn't protect him from this. At this point, we still didn't know what type of opiate he had ingested. They had to send samples to the Mayo Clinic in order to determine the exact drug. Another week later, and we got those results from the Mayo Clinic. MORPHINE. I was beside myself. I felt ANGRY because there is a member of my family who was on a morphine prescription & had visited our home a few weeks before the ER visit. Did she drop something?? In my mind, I needed someone to blame for this. I felt like it was my fault that I couldn't protect him - I needed to know where it came from. So, there were 3 possibilities - church, furniture, or a family member w/ a script b/c of chronic pain, - and long story short, we still have no idea where this drug came from, whether he ingested it at church, or at home - there are so many unknowns even now. And that drives me crazy. (UPDATE: We have recently discovered that the source of the pill most likely came from a friend who was staying in our home, several months before this incident occurred. The vacuum must have somehow missed picking it up. As a result of this situation and other issues that have since come to my attention, this person is no longer a friend and is no longer a part of my life. I ask that you join me in praying for this person, & for me. I am angry, hurt and I am having a hard time forgiving this person. This discovery is still very recent, but this fourth possibility makes the most sense, and honestly, knowing what I now know, in my heart I know this is where it came from. I trust my intuition.)

We slowly started to move on and get back into a routine. In February 2010, we got a letter from CPS. It stated that we were "Responsible for Unsubstantiated Child Neglect." Every single emotion that I felt that day in the ER came rushing back. I read on to discover that "Unsubstantiated Child Neglect" would stay on our record for 5 years, and prevent us from being able to work with children during that time, and the term "unsubstantiated" meant "either no neglect occurred, OR there wasn't enough evidence to substantiate a claim of neglect." I was completely crushed all over again. I felt like I was being blamed and being held responsible for this horrible accident.

We met with CPS to discuss our case and to request that the findings of "Unsubstantiated Child Neglect" be removed from our record and that the case be "Ruled Out." Praise the Lord, they did agree with us that we were NOT responsible for this accident, and granted our request that the case be ruled out completely. I fully respect CPS and their process and hold no hard feelings toward them. I know that they were doing their job and that they had Jeremiah's best interest in mind. Does it hurt? Absolutely. I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't stressful, scary, and painful to know that I was being investigated for such a horrible thing. To be questioned in that way was heartbreaking. But I understand why they were called.

I don't want another family and another child to go through what we have gone through. The physical aspects are over, and Jeremiah is perfect - and I thank God every single day for that.

I wasn't going to say anything, ever, honestly. Because I was scared of being judged, and afraid that others might think that I could have stopped this from happening, or that someone would think that I'm a bad mom for "letting" this happen. I hope no one feels that way. Believe me, regardless of how many times I've heard "this wasn't your fault" to some degree, I still feel like I failed Jeremiah by not being able to stop this from happening to him. But the fact is, I couldn't have prevented this because I didn't know that there was a risk. I didn't know we were in the presence of this drug-if I'd known, I would have stopped this from happening.

Here is a link to an article that I found - and I hope you'll take the time to read it and learn from it. We have always been extremely careful in all aspects of life, to the point where I am frequently called "over-protective" and I am okay with that.

http://abcnews.go.com/Health/Wellness/accidental-ingestion-common-pills-kill-toddlers/story?id=10130146&page=1

So, there you have it. Thanks for reading. I hope someone, somewhere can take something positive from this situation and I hope by sharing, I can prevent this from happening to another family. This could have ended much differently. And I thank the Lord every day for protecting my son. My own little miracle occurred that day.