This article was first published by another fellow Publisher Mom, Michelle Spann. I felt that this story should be shared with everyone. After you read this story, would you please click the "like" button above and share on Facebook to spread the word to all of our family and friends. ~ Charlotte
Michelle Spann wrote: This article was written by a close friend of mine. Her daughter recently drowned and I felt it was absolutely necessary to share her story. A true miracle happened on June 3rd and I think it's so important that parents realize that no matter how careful you are, things like this happen every day. Thank you Kim, for sharing Sophia's story!
Friday, June 3, 2011 is a day I will never forget for the rest of my life. It’s the day I watched my 2 year old daughter die in front of me. It is also the day that CPR brought her back to life.
A little background information: My husband, Tom, and I are both in healthcare. He’s a sports medicine doctor, teaches at a chiropractic college and also teaches emergency procedures (including CPR). I went through nursing school, but decided having babies and running our practice was my calling, so now I do medical billing for my husband and am a proud SAHM. We were both lifeguards in college, both are great swimmers, and love being in and around water. We have three children: Jake is 5, Aiden is 3, and Sophia is 2. (Trust me, they weren’t planned that close!) We are a happy family with a yellow lab and a mini van living in the suburbs of Chicago. As sickening as it sounds, life was great! Until we went to the pool…
June 3 was a sunny, beautiful day. We brought our kids to the community pool and strapped life jackets on all of them. Jake is a beginning swimmer, and the two younger kids float and kick around, jump in from the side, etc. We love to swim! Tom and I are always in the pool with the kids, we don’t sit on the side and read books or leave them alone, we are pretty freakish when it comes to watching our children (ask my oldest sister, she says I’m a total spaz mom that never lets my kids out of my sight lol). Things were good, we were playing in the water – I had been in for about five minutes when everything went wrong.
I was holding Sophia and she tried to push away from me, “I do it mommy! Let go!” She has a fiercely independent spirit like her mother. So I let go of her and she floated on her back kicking and giggling like usual. At that moment my oldest son, Jake, swam over yelling “MOOOOM!” I grabbed him and said, “Jake, what’s the first rule in the water?” Of course he told me, “No panicking!” and turned to swim away.
I had turned from my daughter for less than 10 seconds and Tom asked me, “Hon, what’s Sophia doing?” I look to my left, and my daughter was face down three feet away from me. I thought she was just dunking her face in like she sometimes would and then come up laughing. “Probably drowning!” I said with a laugh. Little did I know how ironic that one comment would become.
I reached over and picked her up. I immediately knew something was wrong. Her face was frozen, eyes wide open. I yelled to Tom and before I knew it he was already on the side of the pool. I knew she wasn’t breathing just by looking at her, no gasping, no talking, no laughing, nothing. I gave her a rescue breath in the water, no response. I handed her up to Tom and gave her another breath with her laying on the concrete and me still in the water. She was jerking around, which I thought was a seizure (it was actually something called ‘agonal breathing’ her body desperately trying to breathe). A lady I didn’t know was trying to stimulate her by rubbing her back as we ripped off her life vest. We yelled for all kids to get out of the pool and for someone to call 911. I gave her another breath. No response. She was turning this sickening shade of gray, her eyes were wide open as if begging me to help her, but she was as floppy as a rag doll. The lady who was helping took our two boys into the clubhouse so they didn’t have to watch us work on their baby sister. Tom checked for a pulse – there was none.
My precious daughter was dead on the side of the pool.
Panic seared through my body like a shockwave, the world went away to a blur and all I could see was my husband doing chest compressions on her tiny little body. Her legs were now blue and cold, her lips dark purple and her face an ugly gray with these wide open glassy eyes. I was screaming to him to save her, begging God to help us. All my training went out the window; I was simply a mom panicking as her dead daughter lay by the side of a pool. My whole world stopped.
Watching your child die is a horrible experience. The helplessness, panic, wanting to back up time, looking around like this cannot be happening, no sound, thinking it cannot be real, not me, not my family, not my baby girl, all blurs into oblivion. I would have traded my life in that very moment to save hers.
Just then two of the maintenance men ran in, I knew them from working on my apartment and had become friends with them. One grabbed my shoulders and told me to let the other one help. I sat on the concrete rubbing her cold purple legs, screaming “Breathe baby! Breathe!!!” My husband continued chest compressions as the maintenance man, Kole, gave her rescue breaths. He looked to my husband and said, “I can’t get any air in.” Tom stopped compressions, and realized her jaw was clenched shut. He ripped her jaw open (mind you my husband is 6’3” about 270 pounds of solid muscle) and gave her two huge breaths. Almost immediately the dark purple went away from her lips, but she didn’t take a deep breath…more of a short, gasping breath. It was the best sound I had ever heard – my husband brought her back to life.
It wasn’t like the movies where this big spurt of water comes gushing out and they sit up and people applaud and walk away. There was no rush of water, just this bubbly saliva dripping from the side of her mouth. She was still limp like a rag doll, but was taking tiny little breaths on her own. She wasn’t moving, there was still no recognition in her eyes, but she wasn’t as blue. Just then, the firefighters and paramedics ran in. I wanted to hold her. Every cell in my body was screaming to put her to my chest and rock her and hold her and not let anyone touch her. One of the paramedics told me to put her down; I refused until my husband told me it was okay. I felt like I had just lost her, I never wanted to let her go again, she might die again. I can’t lose her again.
They picked her up and ran her out to the ambulance. They listened to her lungs and said she had fluid in the lowers and crackles in the top. That meant the lungs were full of water and only the top was getting air. They did a pulse ox on her. For those that don’t know medical terms, it’s the little red light they put on your finger to measure how much oxygen is in your blood. A healthy person should be near 100. Sophia was at 65. She wasn’t getting enough oxygen, she was barely conscious. They put her in the ambulance, Tom jumped in and they took off for the hospital.
The staff at the clubhouse said not to worry about the boys, Kole was already packing up our things to take back to our apartment. I knew my other two children were in good hands, so I ran to my car and flew to the hospital. I don’t really remember the drive other than it taking a lot longer than I wanted, even though I was running red lights, passing people like a crazy woman, calling anyone I could to start praying for her. I’ve never seen so many middle fingers, people yelling or car honks in my life – but I didn’t care. I got to the ER and ran in asking where she was, and they tired to tell me to sit down. A moment later I was running through the ER and came to Sophia’s room. She was propped up in the bed with an oxygen mask on, her eyes were open. My first question was, “what’s her pulse ox!?” The doc spun around with this crazy look on his face, here’s this disheveled woman in a soaking wet bathing suit running into the room asking how his patient is. He’s like, “um, are you in healthcare?” I mumbled something and asked again for her pulse ox about three times. A few nurses were like, “100, she’s at 100!”
At that moment, I knew she was alive. I lost it. My baby was alive! Praise God! I was sobbing, kissing her forehead, rubbing her hair, wrapping her in a blanket and telling her how much I loved her. I couldn’t get enough of her.
Several tests, blood draws, chest x-rays, and blood cultures later, she was admitted to the pediatric ICU overnight for observation. Through prayer, faith and our fast actions, my daughter lived – and recovered remarkably well. We were discharged the next day.
Looking at her now, you would never know she had nearly drown as she jumps in the pool and giggles. Yes, we went back to the pool. Of course I ripped apart her old ‘puddle jumper’ floaties with a sharp pair of scissors and bought her a marine grade life jacket – the poor girl can barely move in the thing, but she’s safe and she will not go face down again. She still loves the water, she loves to play with her brothers and jump in with them. Life has returned back to normal…
The point of me sharing my story is not to get attention or scare parents, but to raise awareness and the need for all of us to become CPR certified. If your child is ever near a pool, river, pond or even the bathtub, you need to know CPR. It can save a life – trust me.
I also want parents to educate themselves on life jackets. They are all NOT built the same. Take 20 minutes to learn what different classes of jackets there are and how they will perform based on your child’s swimming abilities. Just because a jacket says it is US Coast Guard approved and will fit your kid does not mean it will work, you must read and buy one that will put your child face up if they go unconscious.
Please remember: In the time it takes to watch a movie – you can learn how to save a life. Learn CPR!! A simple call to your local fire department is all it takes! Many classes are even free at a community center.
A good site for life vest information:
http://www.shop4lifejackets.com/choose-the-right-life-jacket.htm
A link to the newspaper article about Sophia:
http://napervillesun.suntimes.com/photos/galleries/index.html?story=5810028
