So with my newfound faith in priesthood blessings (discussed in part 2) I returned home to my husband and children ready to relax. February was waning and I was ready for an easier, less stressful time. We had some friends visiting us so we thought it would be fun for the kids if we heated up our pool so they could enjoy a mid-winter swim. On the 24th my friend and I were watching the kids swim, trying to keep track of the little ones. I had been watching my 3 year old son making sure that he didn’t get out of the Jacuzzi and into the big pool with out a life vest.
When I watch children swimming I usually count their heads every few minutes to make sure everyone is safe. After doing a headcount where I thought I had accounted for everyone a big thought came into my head that said, “COUNT AGAIN”. I immediately obeyed and discovered that Quinn was missing. I scanned the pool and Jacuzzi and when I didn’t see him I ran into the house yelling, “Where’s Quinn?” My husband ran out to the pool where he spotted him floating face down near the side of the pool. He pulled Quinn out and we started CPR on him. It was truly the most awful moment of my life.
In what seemed like hours to me but was probably only about a minute or two we got Quinn breathing again, though not well. Soon the paramedics arrived fixed my boy up a little more and he was flown by helicopter to the hospital. There was no room in the helicopter for me or my husband so we drove to the ER to meet Quinn, praying the whole way.
When we got to the hospital Quinn was hooked up to a ventilator and sedated. The doctors told us they wouldn’t know what kind of condition Quinn would be in for probably about 24 hours. My husband and 3 other Melchizedek Priesthood holders gave Quinn an extremely powerful blessing of healing. In short, it said that Quinn would be restored to full health and function. After the blessing Quinn was taken to the pediatric ICU.
Thus, began one of the longest nights of my life. Would he live? If he did, what kind of life would it be? The doctors promised nothing throughout the night; it was very difficult to say the least.
There were a few glimmers of hope here and there at about 2 am Quinn opened his eyes and looked at the nurse like she was some kind of alien. At about 4 am he became very agitated by the ventilator tube and had to be sedated again. Finally, at around 7 am the nurse told me that Quinn was waking up but he needed some encouragement to open his eyes. So I said things like, “Mama’s here. Mama loves you baby. Please open your eyes for mama!” These pleas got no reaction from my boy. Finally, I grabbed Coco, Quinn’s beloved teddy bear, and said, “Coco’s here too.” And Quinn opened up his beautiful blue eyes just a crack to take a look at Coco.
He has since fully recovered and is the little firecracker he was before accident. We’ve had firefighters visiting us almost everyday so that they can see for themselves Quinn’s miraculous recovery. The main paramedic who worked on Quinn said that he is only the 3rd child in 14 years to go from being as bad as Quinn was to being “saved”. Now when I ask Quinn if he’s handsome he says, “No, I’m a miracle boy!”
This February was very bad, but it was very good too. Despite our hardships we have been granted miracles and my faith in priesthood blessings of healing has been restored as well.