we heard the words Supraventricular Tachycardia for the very first time.
Today, it’s simply a part of our daily lives.
A hiccup, not a sentence.
Often the moments that cause us to appreciate life and treasure our loved ones most fiercely are the ones when we feel like everything is being taken away.
1 year ago today, we stood…a thick window of glass between our 10 day old son and us…in the pediatric ICU, frozen with fear, heartsick by the harsh realization that our wee babe was very sick.
He was diagnosed with SVT, an arrhythmia of the heart where the heart rate is sped up by an abnormal electrical impulse starting in the atria.
Here’s an excerpt from my journal on that first day…
“…The doctor checked his heart rate. Again and again. It was as though the climate in the room shifted. Aiden’s heart rate was well over 200 beats per minute, from what the doc could pick up with a stethoscope. A normal heart rate for an infant is between 100 and 140.
Most of the next 8 hours are a blur to Joe and I. An escort to the ER was immediately arranged for us. I’ll never forgot walking across the skywalk from the professional building to the hospital…Joe carrying Ali, Aiden’s carseat and the diaper bag, me carrying little Aiden, still in only his diaper, all bundled up in his blanket. I was foggy and terrified, having no clue as to what was happening within my little one’s chest, and yet finding myself tearfully giving him over to God. My quiet conversation went something like this…“Father, I hold him with open arms. He’s yours. Please don’t take him from us. Please don’t…take him…from us. But, if you choose to, we will mourn and we will ache and we will be angry…but we will still choose to praise you. You are good.” While I have no idea where that came from, it was simply the beginning of His strength rising up within us for the long stretch ahead.
Upon arrival in the Pediatric ER, 4 nurses, EMTs and techs were waiting for us. Our stomachs were churning. I thought I might throw up right there, but the need to be strong and brave for Ali’s sake kept a plastic, reassuring smile on our faces. Between our feeble attempts to distract her with the beautiful surroundings of the kid’s room and keep her away from the beeping machines and needles that were being hurriedly inserted into her precious baby brother, Joe and I kept catching each other’s eyes…the sight of absolute fear in the one causing the tears to pour in the other. We were a mess…
Within 15 minutes of getting into the ER, we were escorted by 6 nurses/techs/doctors to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. His little body looked so tiny on the enormous, fast-moving gurney. With Joe and I struggling to keep up with the team, we tried desperately to hold it together. The next several hours were spent looking through the cold glass at our precious baby getting intubated, put on a breathing machine, having needle after needle inserted into different parts of his innocent, beautiful little body. I wanted to scream and yet didn’t have a voice. I don’t know if I have ever been as terrified as I was that day. Terrified that if I walked away, it may be the last time I would have laid eyes on my baby boy alive. We still had no idea what was happening, only that team after team after team was called into the room. At one point, there were 9 people in the room…3 doctors, along with nurses and emergency workers, the ultrasound guy, an x-ray gal, the respiratory lady, and a crash cart. In a desperate attempt to get his heart rate down, which had hit a deadly 284 beats per minute, they tried dose after dose of medication. They tried ice on his head. When nothing worked, they used cardioversion. He was first shocked with 2 joules. No real change. When they shocked him the second time, with 3 joules, he went into ventricular fibrillation. If this arrhythmia continues for more than a few seconds, blood circulation will cease and sudden cardiac death occurs. Joe had ushered me away, knowing that seeing our 2 week old son shocked would crush my heart. Only he got to see the tension in the room when the head doctor had applied chest compressions and CPR. They had to shock him a 3rd time, this time with 6 joules, and his heart leapt into motion, returning to a high-normal rhythm. Thank you, Jesus.
With a line/tube in virtually every orifice of his fragile body, they continued to stabilize his heart so they could get to the root of this situation. It turns out he was experiencing his first bout of Supraventricular Tachycardia (SVT). His little heart had basically been running a marathon, beating at a crazy 250+ beats per minute for the past few days (what we had first noticed on Wednesday) and had practically beat itself to death. Had we not made it to the doctor’s office that morning, he most likely would not have made it through the weekend. His little heart would have eventually just stopped.
But, God obviously has big plans for this little fighter. Aiden, by the way, means FIERY ONE! And our precious boy clearly has a trail to blaze and a legacy to leave!
In the same way a strenuous workout produces lactic acid in our bodies, the continual contraction of his heart muscle for 2-3 days had produced a toxic level of lactic acid in his body, called Lactic Acidosis. After several hours, while his heart rate was being monitored and ‘manipulated’ by medication when needed, his acid levels still labeled him as in ‘critical condition’. Dose after dose of bicarb (to level out the Ph) had only brought his levels from 14 to 11.
Joe and I have never cried as much as we did this day. We almost lost our Aiden James, just 2 weeks old…and as healthy as they come. Except for what we now had come to know as SVT. Attempting to function on a good day with 1 hour of sleep is tough…today was dreadful. With swollen eyes, pounding heads and heavy hearts we checked into the Ronald McDonald (RM) house across the road. Having roamed the hospital halls many a time while Joe worked here (for 3 years), we knew all about the PICU and RM House…but never dreamed we would spend heart-wrenching days there ourselves.”
Read more about Aiden’s experience with SVT here.
Today, we celebrate a healthy, vibrant, plump little lad who’s heart is beating strongly and regularly {with the help of an anti-arrhythmic and a beta blocker}.
While we have no idea what the future holds for our little warrior, we do know Who holds his future…and that is good enough for us.
We praise God for the gift of his life, and the many lessons in walking out raw faith, having strength in the face of fear, and holding our loved ones with an open hand we’ve learned along the way. We are so thankful for the friends and family who have walked this long road with us…praying, encouraging, cheering, meeting needs, and supporting us, every step of the way. We are so incredibly blessed to have you in our lives.
What a journey this year has been…as tumultuous and heart-breaking as it was at times, it has refined us, strengthened us, broken and rebuilt us, and brought us to our knees {which happens to be the perfect place to encounter the faithful God who has carried us through}. It has also provided opportunity for us to experience the most stunning expression of love and support from those around us we could ever have imagined. Thank you, thank you. From the bottom of our hearts.
God is good.
“I thank my God every time I remember you”
Philippians 1:3
