Part dos

Bienvenidos de nuevo! Quick break from that last one, tenia que comer jaja ya sabes. Bueno, let’s continue.

As if that first traumatic experience wasn’t enough, let’s get into an aventura with Javi this time. I mean, I still hadn’t reaaaaaaally accepted that it does in fact, necesita un pueblo to raise these chamacos.

Fast forward to Primavera de 2018, exactly one year ago today. Remember my memory that popped on on my Feis (facebook)? This was it. I was still trying to get a handle on this whole “me-time” thing, learn how to manage my anxiety and be a good mama and wifey while still on Mat leave. I decided to head out to Dollarama, by myself just to grab a couple of things. Ya sabes, vas por unas cositas y sales con 10. Pero, whatever jaja. I had been gone 45 minutes, in the checkout line – almost done. Amazing, I had done it, some “me-time” and still productive. Win, win, win. Pues, eso pense.

My cell rings while I’m walking out. Es mi esposo, “I think Javi swallowed a penny.” QUE QUE?! Ahora, if you know me, I had most likely shared with you how one of my close friends, a mama of 4 boys – one of her sons had done this exact thing and spent an entire year battling for his life at Toronto’s Sick Kids Hospital. Yes, ya se – it was a rare case, pero igual! I was traumatised from that experience and my pesadilla (nightmare) had officially become realidad.

I rush home in a panic. Javi seemed okay though, he was breathing, he was slightly talking, just seemed scared and upset that he had “lost” his penny. *eye roll* Pero por supuesto, el pinche penny. This penny was special, because it was given to him by his TeeTee (tia, auntie) so he could “buy” something from the ice cream truck when it drove by again. jejeje It was a sweet gesture, and we put it away for safe keeping, or so we thought. UGH. We kept a very close eye on him, tried to get him to talk – I mean he was also only 2 and a half years old so not much conversation, and we assumed he would poop it out.

Javi started to gag and was trying to throw up, pero just baba (saliva) would come out. I got scared, worried, so incredibly nervous – I said let’s take him to emergencia. Mi esposo agreed, and off we were to our VIP spot. Pues, enserio – we should have one. Jajaja. I took Javi, mi esposo stayed home with Mireay until of course, mis suegros could make it over to watch her. At the hospital, they took him in immediately and scheduled him an X-Ray. La espera is always sooooo long, it feels like forever – especialmente when he is still in discomfort and gagging like crazy.

Los resultados were in. Yup, ahi esta – ese pinche penny, sitting upright on his oesophagus. I. Am. Frantic. Shaking, crying, screaming – I was beyond upset. I called my friend’s mama, who had gone through this before and asked for all the tips and suggestions I could get in order to have the best treatment for mi chamaco. She let me know they are NOT allowed to perform children’s extractions in any Hospital in York Region, they MUST send the child to Toronto’s Sick Kids Hospital downtown.

Which they did. We got am ambulancia, and off we were to Sick Kids. Only one parent is allowed to ride with the chamaco en la ambulancia, so I went with Javi. We were pretty shook, so I suggested mi esposo not to drive alone. Su hermano drove him and stayed with us until we were fully admitted and into a private room at Sick Kids. Familia is everything.

Javi was crying on and off, gagging and throwing up periodically, and had to have several X-Rays. The nurses came in and out to check on us, and finally at 3am to insert an IV. This. Was. Muy. Duro. *Inhala, Exhala*. We had to hold Javi down in his bed, while the nurse attempted to poke his vein, again, and again. 3 times. Javi was screaming, I was sobbing at this point, mi esposo was just praying like please Dios, ya no mas. It was too much. Mi bebecito inocente. Me partio el corazon to have to do that.

We were told to rest, as his procedure was scheduled for the next morning. No podia dormir, aparte, we were moved from our private room to another floor with 4 other little ones and their parents sleeping in this big room. The hours passed lentamente.

A las 8am, we were woken up to prep Javi for his procedure. They wheeled him in this small stretcher, with his IV in tact, and scared yet curious little face down to the OR. We gave him one last big hug and a ton of besos, stood as a nurse carried him in her arms through those swinging doors that lead to the OR – en el nombre sea de Dios – off he went, without us. Without me, su mama. Al I could think about was “He’s in the best hands,” – pero he can’t be, because they’re not mine.

We had some time to wait, to think, to worry, to pray, and pray, and pray. Watching the screen with mi chamacos’ name on it, waiting for it to change from “in OR” to “in recovery”. I turned around and saw his surgeons walking in holding that pinche penny in a small plastic container. Y te juro, I could feel Dios embrace me with his blessings y amor.

Everything went well, the extraction was done quickly and easily. Javi was in recovery, and being held and soothed by a nurse when we walked in. Y en ese momento – I realized the true meaning of “it takes a village to raise a child”. No podemos hacerlo todo on our own, and it may not be be me, or us, to help them, to comfort them, to care for them, or to love them. Gracias a Dios, we were able to take him home later ese dia.

En la casa, he napped for 3 hours and was woken up by none other than, the ice cream truck music coming down the street. Rapido, rapido, correle, correle!! – Get him the ice cream!! I mean, that was the whole purpose of that pinche penny, and he was told to only eat cold things for the rest of the day. Mi esposo carried him out with money safely in hand, and he chose a SpiderMan paleta, which he even shared it with Mireya, que lindo!

Como puedes ver, I couldn’t do it all on my own. In both situations, and more to come I’m sure, I will need help, support and resources to get me through this ‘hood with mis chamacos. Thank you to mis suegros for again, watching one of the chamacos while we tend to the one in need, to mis papas for always being there even from afar, to our other familia who messaged us constantly encouraging us every step of the way, and to mi comadre for bringing us plenty of food the next day so I wouldn’t have to worry about it. Reading all the comments again from the memory post, was a great reminder of the support and amor we have. Muchas gracias y Dios los bendiga!

Thank you to all the staff at both hospitals, Markham Stouffville (once again) and Toronto’s Sick Kids, the paramedics inthe ambulance who helped care for Javi. & to Cayden Sloetjes, who endured more than any chamaco should, but is now a hero. If your chamaco ever has to get an extraction, it is MANDATORY in YORK REGION (GTA – Toronto, Canada) for them to be sent to Paediatrics for the procedure. Please, please, please ask all the questions and let others know for the well being of all of our chamacos.

There are no perfect parents, no perfect chamacos, or perfect familia. No matter how much you watch them, accidents can and will happen. Lo que importa is how you react and what you do to help them. Seeing this memory pop up brought back a lot of tough feelings, scary ones – that I often try not to think about. Pero, it’s those experiences that allow us to learn and to grow – to become better versions of ourselves. A mama poderosa with chamacos guerreros y un esposo campeon. Amo a mi familia. Con ganas.

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