We thought he had an ear infection.

On Friday afternoon, my poor baby was dripping from both ears. I called the pediatrician around 4p.m. His regular ped was out that day, and I got a return call from one of the other pediatrician's nurses saying they were calling in ear drops, and to make an appointment for Monday.

My boy, my Maxy bear, was fine most of the weekend. A little grumpier than usual, but mostly happy. He was always happy.

It stormed over the weekend. Snow piled on everything. On Sunday afternoon, I went out to clean off my car so I wouldn't have to deal with it the next day. While I was cleaning off my back windshield, it collapsed underneath the snow. I was horrified.

My mother-in-law came down, picked up the boys and me, and took me back up to her house so I could take her spare car. The boys would stay with her, and she'd take Max to the pediatrician the next morning.

I got a call at 9am from saying he was fine, just seemed really sleepy.

At 10:30, after the appointment, I got a call from her saying the pediatrician had said he was severely dehydrated. We could either try to force him to drink, or take him straight to the hospital. I told her I'd pick him up and take him to the E.R.

When I got there...he was frightening. He was staring off into space and it was only at first that he knew me. Within minutes, he was clearly unaware of his surroundings. We went to Holy Redeemer in Huntingdon Valley.

At Holy Redeemer, they stuck him four times to try to get an IV but he was so dry that they were unsuccessful. He never flinched. Never cried at the needles. The first time he got stuck and didn't move, my heart dropped into my chest. In hindsight, this is the time where I first felt afraid that I was going to lose my baby. He didn't know me, he didn't know any of his surroundings, he was already half gone.

The first pediatrician was still making noise about sending us home after they got some fluids into him. Around 4pm, the shift changed and the second pediatrician hurried into the room in a panic.

"I want a CT scan. There's something going on here, and it's going on in his brain. Those little cries you hear? I'm afraid they're seizures."

The CT scan was negative, but when they lifted him from the table, his entire left side of his face was drooping. His left eye stopped responding to light stimulus.

By 7pm, we agreed he'd be transferred out to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. I waited for the ambulance team to come, then I left ahead of them to grab some overnight stuff from our house. My husband was to ride in the ambulance with him.

I arrived at CHOP and called my husband. They were on their way - Max had been medivaced.

"Why?" I demanded. "Why not the ambulance?"

"I don't know. He wasn't stable enough."

My husband would later, while we were waiting for the doctors, tell me that my baby had crashed during the transfer. His heart stopped, his lungs failed to function. They'd intubated him and resumed his sinus rhythm with chest compressions.

We waited until 2:30am to speak with a doctor. His demeanor was bleak.

"Your baby's condition is life-threatening. This is the first time I've felt comfortable enough to leave the room. We don't know what it is, but we suspect it's meningitis. I can't give you any prognosis beyond the next few hours."

Some of the darkest hours of my life were that night. We didn't sleep. I didn't pray. I didn't speak to god. I just repeated my baby's name over and over in my head and begged him to hold on.

The next few days were filled with a lot of medical jargon and up and down hopes. On Wednesday morning, during another huge snowstorm, we got some really good news. His white blood cells were coming back up, he was responding to the antibiotics. His lung and heart function were recovering.

By Wednesday afternoon, bad news came. His body was releasing massive amounts of lactic acid, a chemical that your brain controls. When large amounts are released, it indicates a loss of brain function.

An EEG was recommended, and done. We were told my baby had no more brain function.

We were given the option that next morning to remove him from life support that day, but then the Gift of Life Organ Donation people came to speak with us. If we let them run a few more tests, if we held on just one more day, his death would be the result of brain death, not cardiac death, and his organs would be viable for transplant. The drawback of this was that I couldn't be with my baby when he passed. But Nik and I agreed...if Max could make the decision himself, he'd want to help. Maxy always wanted to help.

I spent that last night in his room. I couldn't let him be alone on his last night.

We let them do their tests. Still no sign of any brain function. We waited for organ recipients to be arranged, surgeons to arrive.

On Friday, February 12th, right around 11pm, we said good-bye one last time, and they took my baby away from me.

Comments

[Hope]

I am trying so hard not to cry at work right now. Words can't express how much I am aching for you right now.

I am so impressed that you were able to donate your little boy's organs. To miss that final goodbye for a chance to give hope to another family is one of the most selfless acts that I can think of. I can't even imagine having to make that decision. You did an incredible noble thing.

[Rachel]

What a nightmare for any mother to have to go through. My heart aches for you and your family and all of the pain that yall are in. Donating his organs was a wonderful thing for you to do, I hope that knowing that your little boy helped somebody's life brings you some small amount of peace.

[Jill]

I am so sad for you. How excruciatingly heartbreaking. I have wondered about you for over a year now. I kept your blog on my favorites and have checked back every once in awhile, but there never was anything. I wondered if something happened to you. I am so, so sorry. I wish nothing had. You'll be on my mind. Sending you lots of love and light.

[TiA]

My heart just aches for you... You've been through so much and you're still so very young. It's not fair, it's just.. God, I wish so badly that your little love hadn't been taken from you.

[Jackie]

Oh my God, Kate! My heart is breaking for you! I am so so so sorry! That's about all I can say. Email me if you need anything, you were there for me a couple years ago when I was going through a hard time (you probably don't remember) and I appreciated your kind words and support so much. ♥