The Moving Checklist You Forgot

I have had those dreams before- the ones where something tragic happens to a family member and I imagine what I would do, how I would feel and react. Realizing how scary and morbid those thoughts are, I generally stop myself and force a more pleasant daydream.  

Perhaps those imaginary preparations prepared me for the actual thing. The doctor said our actions were textbook, we responded exactly as we were supposed to.  I can find peace in that only because Isaac has fully recovered, but where I struggle to find peace is my memory.  The real life, tragic pictures of my precious little boy under the water. His purple face.  His limp body as we pulled him up.  Never could I have imagined these images and I pray they stop haunting me. 

Our family was vacationing in Florida for a few days after Steve came home from a three week long work trip.  We had just walked in from a fun day of activity and decided to jump in the pool before my in-laws came home with pizza.  Samantha wanted to go without a lifevest, but Isaac was still a bit nervous in the water and insisted on wearing his.  The pool was like a giant bathtub and little Levi was joining us for the first time.  At some point in our playing, Isaac asked to go to the bathroom.  Steve removed his puddle jumper and he ran upstairs. 

We continued playing and when Samantha, Steve and I were surrounding  Levi, I quickly looked around for Isaac.  In my glance around the pool I saw something dark at the bottom.  "Oh my God!  Oh my God!" I never use that term but through the waves I saw his body on the floor of the pool.  The next minute was a blur.   I remember grabbing his arm and then seeing him laying on the cement while Steve crawled over him to perform CPR.  I jumped out of the pool, grabbed my phone and desperately tried to dial 911 while water dripped on the screen.  I didn't know the address of the rental house.  I frantically searched cupboards and drawers upstairs to find a rental binder and then ran outside to confirm the address they located from my cell phone.  There was a loud cry from the pool area.  I ran back and saw Isaac awake laying on a lawnchair while Samantha was huddled crying in another one. 

~7 minutes passed and a police drove by yelling out the window 'is this the place?'  2-4 minutes more and an ambulance, firetruck and other vehicles lined the street.  Isaac was limp, covered with vomit but responding to questions.  The police assured us he was ok.    

Steve rode with him in the ambulance while I stayed at the house.  After dinner and putting Levi down to bed I headed to the hospital expecting to return home with Steve and Isaac later that night. 

When I arrived, the nurses were talking about the PICU.

I knew what it meant, but was certain I was wrong.  She then informed me they were moving him to Pediatric Intensive Care.  I found myself heaving. 

The first 24 hours were intense with machines and Isaac fiercely jumping from in and out of consciousness.  We met numerous staff and were both interviewed and drug tested.  He was in intensive care for 2 days.  Steve remained in FL with him for two additional days before flying home.

Time is completely distorted in my mind.  I feel as if years have passed.  
He is doing fantastic.  It seems my anguish is completely unwarranted.  Why am I grieving when there is nothing to grieve over?  Most of the time I can pull it together and see the amazing hand of God in this - not just because He completely restored Isaac, but because He revealed his love in countless ways. 

It is just those quick moments. The graphic images.  I can't shake them. 

I know I'm not alone.  In the little time Steve and I have had to talk, he has asked me if I was angry with him for taking off Isaac's puddle jumper.  He has told me he will never describe what he saw.  He is struggling too. 

Now that we are all home together, we can turn our gaze towards his amazing recovery and the wonderful mercies we have experienced.  Seeing him run and play today has been the best thing ever.  Those are the pictures I'll use to cover the hard ones.  

Thank you for the prayers and support.  

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22-23

Update on Isaac

CPR classes are offered all over the world.  Take classes online:  or attend a local class.