Abby's Story

We packed up the kids (and about 1/2 our house - or at least as much as would fit in our tiny car) and drove out to San Diego on Tuesday, May 17th. This was going to be an amazing trip! My brothers and parents and I hadn't been all together in over 6 years. Actually, the last time we were all in the same place was the day Anthony and I got married. Crazy! We all live in different parts of the country (and the world!) so getting everyone's schedule to align has been difficult. But for 2 days in May we had managed to overlap everyone and I was beyond excited!

It was so wonderful to spend time with my brothers and their wives and children, even if it was only for a short time. The kids all had a blast together. On Wednesday, May 18th, we spent the day eating, talking, and visiting Balboa Park. On Thursday, May 19th, we spent the entire day at Sea World. Abby loved it! She walked the whole time - never even wanted to sit in the stroller. She pet the sea stars and made up stories about the fish in the aquarium. She loved Shamu and had fun doing the "Splash Dance".  I think her favorite part was the Elmo's Flying Fish ride. She didn't want to get off! My favorite quote of the day from her was, "Mommy, you got all wet!" after I came off the Roaring Rapids ride. Yes, Abby, Mommy did get all wet. It started out as a cold, cloudy morning. But the clouds burned off, the sun came out, and we ALL got sunburned. It was well worth it though. 

After Sea World, we all went to my Grandma's house for dinner. Poor Abby was so tired. She fell asleep in the car on the way over there. Spencer was exhausted too. But he managed to get himself up onto his hands and knees for only like the second time ever. It was the first time Anthony got to see it.

Friday, May 20th, was supposed to be our "Quiet Day." My brother Shaun and his family left at 4AM to catch their 6AM flight out of town. My brother Aaron and his family were staying at my Grandma's house and wanted to get some sightseeing in. My parents both had to return to work, and I was more than happy to stay at home for the day to let Abby and Spencer catch up on sleep. We played all morning and gave the kids a much needed bath. After lunch, it was time for naps. Spencer went down with out a problem, like always, but Abby took about an hour to finally stay in "her" room and go to sleep. The last time she came out was about 1:00.

At 2:00 my dad came home from work. He had a short day. He walked down the hall to his room and less than 5 minutes later, out came Abby. A one hour nap for a sleep-deprived child was definitely not enough. She was extremely cranky. She wanted to sit on my lap, but couldn't get herself comfortable. Finally she said, "Umm, I think I need to go potty." So I took her into the bathroom to help, but she got upset again and told me to leave. So I did. She kept crying so Anthony went in with her. He got her off the toilet and stood her on the ground but she lost her balance and had to lean on him while he pulled up her pants - weird. He took her back to the bedroom to see if she would go back to sleep. We thought she was still tired. She really hadn't gotten much sleep since we'd been in San Diego. She laid down, but was still crying and wouldn't calm down. Finally, Anthony picked her up to see if he could calm her down by holding her. Then she threw up. He took her back into the bathroom and then came out into the living room where I was talking with my dad and feeding Spencer (who had woken up in the middle of all the screaming). Anthony had a very concerned look on his face when he said, "I don't know what's wrong." Abby's head was on his shoulder. He moved his hand from her back and her upper body flew backwards. She was completely limp and unresponsive. Her eyes had rolled to the back of her head. I got chills all over my body. My heart started pounding and I could feel the color draining from my face. We all decided Abby needed to go to the hospital. Anthony and I started walking with her out to the car when I stopped and realized she needed to have a blessing. So we went back inside and my dad helped Anthony give her a priesthood blessing. I could tell Anthony was having a hard time, trying not to cry. And he never said what I wanted to hear. Abby was blessed with peace and comfort and to feel of the love that her parents and her Father in Heaven have for her. (What? I was waiting for, "You will be just fine. The doctors will take good care of you and everything will be ok.") It was at this moment that I first entertained the thought of losing our precious Abby. But at the same time, I was still feeling calm about things. We left Spencer with my dad, and headed out.

The drive to Grossmont Hospital seemed like it took 5 hours. (Why were we getting so many red lights?) I was looking back at Abby in her car seat every few seconds to make sure she was still breathing. Her breaths were way too far apart. We pulled up to the ER entrance around 3:00 and Anthony rushed her in. I went to park the car. When I arrived inside I didn't see them in the waiting room so I asked at the desk. The lady I talked to said, "Oh, the girl with the beautiful dark curls?". She told me they had taken her straight back and that she wasn't sure what I would be walking into. I walked into a room full of chaos. There had to have been at least 10 different nurses, doctors, and techs swarming over Abby. I walked to Anthony's side. He was answering questions. We answered A LOT of questions. "Could she have gotten into anyone's prescription medicines?" "Was she ever out of your sight?" "Did she fall?" "Does she have any health problems?" In the middle of all the questions I watched as they cut Abby's clothes off of her (I was glad that she was wearing clean underwear. And I was glad she had gotten a bath). Her breathing was weak so she was intubated. They put in an IV to draw blood and restore fluids. Then they gave her morphine. One of the nurses quietly asked me if it was ok to send in the Chaplin. (The Chaplin? Really? Chaplin = DEATH. Are you trying to tell me that my daughter is going to die right here? Oh my goodness.) So the Chaplin came. She said a prayer for Abby, brought us water, and told us where to stand so that we wouldn't be in the way. Other than that, we didn't pay much attention to her.

The Transport Team from Rady Children's Hospital was called and arrived with one of their Trauma doctors, Hellen Harvey. Abby was finally taken for a cat scan. Dr. Harvey told us that based on that scan they could see that there was something on Abby's brain. It wasn't clear if it was a mass or some sort of bleed. She asked us questions to see if Abby had any prior indications of a mass and concluded that it was most likely some type of bleed, probably an AVM, but they would have to do a more detailed scan once we arrived at Rady's. (Back up - did she say AVM? Anthony and I both thought it, but didn't say anything.) Finally, Anthony asked if he had heard correctly - AVM?

Two months prior to this, a 7-year-old boy in our ward died from an arteriovenous malformation (AVM). Through his experience we learned that an AVM is a malformation of blood vessels in your brain and it is something that you are born with but don't usually find out about until it ruptures. AVM's are very rare - they affect about 1% of the population. This little boy was in my Primary class before Spencer was born.

How in the world could Abby have an AVM? We told Dr. Harvey that we were familiar with AVM's and knew someone who had one. She asked us how he was doing now. Anthony told her that he had died. Dr. Harvey's expression and tone changed immediately and she told us "not to think about that right now." (Ummm......ok.) I rode with Abby in the ambulance to Rady's and Anthony drove behind. But he had to stop for gas. The low fuel light had come on while we were on our way to the ER (Now I know why you should always have 1/2  tank of gas in your car!). I was nervous to let Anthony drive, but he said he could do it. By now it was after 5:00.

I felt like the ambulance was going too slow. (Why weren't the sirens on? We needed to get my baby taken care of!) We arrived at Rady Children's Hospital and Abby was taken to a room in the ICU. I was asked to leave as they put in a central line and took Abby for another CT. I was taken to a waiting room and sat there by myself, waiting for Anthony to arrive (in the 26 days we were at this hospital, I can think of only one other time that this waiting room was quiet and completely empty). I wanted Anthony to be there so that I could cry on his shoulder. I was trying to hold it in until he arrived, but finally my tears burst out and I couldn't stop. I was sure at this point that Abby was leaving us. And then, in the middle of my meltdown, I was completely overcome by an overwhelming feeling of peace. Nothing except for Anthony's embrace has ever stopped me from crying so fast. At that moment I knew that everything would be fine. I had absolutely no idea what "fine" meant though. Would Abby die, but I would be able to deal with it? Would she live with permanent brain damage, but I would be able to handle it? Or would she recover and be back to her normal self? I had no clue what the outcome of this situation would be, but I did know that I was not alone. Heavenly Father knew what He was doing and He let me know that He was there with me in that moment of despair. I knew that if I had to give up Abby, I would still be able to continue on with my life. Then I saw Anthony.

Anthony is such a rock. I knew he was just as upset as I was, but he came in looking so calm. All he said was, "It's out of our hands now." He is amazing. We waited and waited again. It was after 6:00. Finally we were retrieved from the waiting room and taken to a small office for a consultation with a neurosurgeon, Dr. Hal Meltzer. He confirmed that Abby had an AVM and it needed to be operated on right away. He said surgery was the only way to "keep her with us," but there was still no guarantee that she would make it through. We had to sign all sorts of consent forms. (We didn't care what they had to do - just do it already!) Dr. Meltzer said his colleague, Dr. Michael Levy, was there at the hospital finishing up another surgery at that moment. Dr. Levy is specially trained in pediatric brain bleeds and would be the one to operate on Abby. Dr. Meltzer would assist.

After our meeting with Dr. Meltzer, we were taken back to Abby and allowed to stay with her until she was taken to surgery. This had to be the WORST few minutes of our lives. I tried to sing all of her favorite Primary songs to her - the ones she knows by heart ("I am a Child of God", "My Heavenly Father Loves Me", "I Love to See the Temple", "Families Can be Together Forever"). I couldn't get through most of them. I wrapped her hand around my finger. This was the first thing she did when she was born - grab my finger - and I wanted it to be the last thing she did if she wasn't going to return to us. Anthony was stroking her hair, like he always does (which just flattens it out and takes away her curls) so I was refluffing it to make sure she was as pretty as could be. She was heavily sedated, but we wanted to make sure she knew we were there. Then it was time for surgery. We followed as they wheeled her down to the surgery floor. We each gave her one last kiss and told her we loved her. We were then sent back to the waiting room.

 I felt sick. My head was pounding and I thought I was going to throw up. Anthony and I hadn't eaten anything since 11:00 and now it was almost 8:00. But neither of us could eat. I had a bad case of the shakes too. I wasn't cold, but I couldn't stop shaking. Honestly, I just wanted to be in that waiting room alone with Anthony (we are a very private couple - we keep to ourselves). But my parents came for support and so did Anthony's brother, Robert, and his wife, Katie. They happened to be in town that weekend too. I was still holding on to that peaceful feeling I had received earlier but the distraction from our family actually helped a lot.

Sometime after 10:00 we got the word that Abby was out of surgery. Dr. Harvey, Dr. Meltzer, and Dr. Levy came to speak with us. Dr. Levy was very pleased. He was able to remove the tangle of blood vessels and stop any residual bleeding. He felt that they had gotten to her quick enough to minimize any permanent damage. The AVM was just above Abby's brain stem, in the cerebellum. He said the only problems he could foresee would be with her balance, coordination, and moving her eyes in sync. The front part of her brain, which controls memory, thinking, and other cognitive skills, was completely unaffected. Dr. Levy also said that Abby's age was on her side. She should be able to relearn most things. He was very optimistic for her recovery, but was also quick to say that only time would tell. Based on the facts, Abby should be fine. But the brain is a very complex machine and we would just have to wait to see how it would really wake up and respond.

We reported the news to our family and then they went home. We waited for Abby to be brought back to her room. It was just after 11:00 when we got to see her again. She was completely sedated - in a medically induced coma. She was hooked up to a ventilator. She had a tube coming out of the top of her head to drain excess blood and fluid from around her brain, as well as relieve some of the pressure inside her head. She had staples up the back of her neck and a piece of her skull was left out in order to help relieve pressure. The last thing you want is for the brain to swell so much that it is damaged further by not having any place to expand to. She had a central line in her left leg and an arterial line in her right leg. She had a catheter. She had an IV in her right arm and in her left hand. Her chest was covered in EKG monitors. She had a feeding tube going in through her nose (which at this stage was only for draining stomach acid before beginning feeds) and a temperature probe going in through her mouth. It was almost too much to take in. For the next day or two I couldn't even look at her. I had to stay in the back of the room, behind her bed. It was just too hard.

Anthony and I decided pretty early on that there was absolutely nothing we could do to change the situation, so it didn't make any sense to wallow in our sorrow. We needed to be there for Abby - to encourage her and let her know we love her. My biggest fear was that she would be scared. I couldn't deal with that. When Ethan (the other boy with the AVM) was in the hospital I prayed over and over again that he would not be scared. When his mom, Kim, learned of our situation she told me that she knew there were angels in the ICU looking after those children. She testified that a loving Heavenly Father would never let His precious little ones be scared in a situation like that. Her words brought me much comfort.

Abby had the BEST nurse for those first 5 days. Tracy was amazing. She cared for Abby as if she were her own child. She talked with me and Anthony and helped us through a lot. She made us laugh and helped us loosen up. We were lucky enough to have her back a few other times and we both consider her to be a real friend. Sheila, the respiratory therapist that was assigned to Abby during those first few days was amazing too. She empathized with us and made sure we were taking care of ourselves. She even brought me some of her own nail polish from home so that I could paint Abby's toes. Both Sheila and Tracy told us that we seemed very familiar to them but we couldn't find any connections that linked us together. Anthony's response: "You must have known we were coming." He and I both had moments of Deja Vu in those early days with Abby.

So much has happened in the last 7 weeks. Abby has had a lot of ups and downs but now she is on a path where there is nowhere to go but up. It is going to be a very long and difficult road, but we are confident that she will make it through this just fine. Abby was so smart and advanced in many ways before all of this. The doctors have told us that the more she knew coming into this situation, the better her recovery will be. I can't help but think that her whole life was preparing her for this event.

While in San Diego, a good friend of ours gave us a book called "Divine Signatures: The Confirming Hand of God" by Gerald N. Lund. It talked about the many things the Lord does for us and how often times He does it in such a way that we know with out a doubt that it was His doing - almost as if He were leaving His signature on that blessing. Anthony and I were able to recognize several of those divine signatures throughout this experience:

• My dad arrived home from work just minutes before Abby woke up from her nap and was there to assist Anthony in giving her a blessing, as well as watch Spencer while we went to the ER.
• Dr. Levy (who was specially trained) and his team were already at Rady Children's Hospital, ready to get to work on Abby. Dr. Levy said afterwords that he felt confident because they were able to operate so quickly.
• Tracy and Sheila both thought Anthony and I were familiar.
• Spencer is the complete opposite of Abby - he has been incredibly mellow from the day he was born and he does well with 'strangers.' He was perfectly fine staying at my parents' house for 4 weeks without us. (At that age Abby would not have been able to do that)
• Dr. Brad Petersen (ICU Director at Rady's) is in medical textbooks. Years ago he came up with a special treatment that Abby was on to help shrink her brain in order to decrease swelling and relieve some of the pressure inside her head. We spoke with him often.
• This all happened in San Diego where these gifted doctors practice (and not in the middle of the DESERT on our way back home - we were supposed to drive home on Sunday, May 22nd. Abby went into the hospital on Friday, May 20th).
• Marcus Ellsworth (Ethan's dad) is our new Home Teacher. The funny thing about this is that Anthony was the one who assigned him to us! He had just made new home teaching assignments during the previous month. I had no idea.

Some people might call these things a coincidence. But we know better. With the Lord, there are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason.

We came to this earth to gain mortal experience and knowledge. We each knew before we chose to come to earth what kinds of things we would have to face here, and we chose to come anyway because we knew it was a necessary step in becoming like our Father in Heaven. I love this quote from Elder Richard G. Scott, "Just when all seems to be going right, challenges often come in multiple doses applied simultaneously. When those trials are not consequences of your disobedience, they are evidence that the Lord feels you are prepared to grow more. He therefore gives you experiences that stimulate growth, understanding and compassion, which polish you for your everlasting benefit. To get you from where you are to where He wants you to be requires a lot of stretching, and that generally entails discomfort and pain."
I'm sure we will look back one day and realize why we (and Abby) had to go through this.

We know that God lives. We know that we are all His children. We know that Heavenly Father wants nothing more than to see his children grow and be happy. That is why His hand is in every trial we face - we just have to look for it. He doesn't just let bad things happen and then turn His back. He guides us, lifts us, and comforts us the whole way. We are grateful for that. And we are grateful to have already known that coming into this situation. It makes things easier to bear. That's how we are able to have such a positive attitude. We still have our moments when things just get to be too much, but we always know where we can turn for strength.

"Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,

For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.

I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,

Upheld by my righteous, upheld by my righteous,

Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand."

(How Firm A Foundation, Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; 85)

I also think it is interesting to note Abby's name:
Abigail Faith
We had a hard time deciding on a middle name for her. In fact, we didn't decide on it until we were filling out her birth certificate in the hospital after she was born. Anthony picked it out. She has definitely taught us a lot about faith. Perhaps that is a divine signature as well.