God's gifts from five minutes with Matthew
I wasn't supposed to be there that morning... Last Wednesday, I could not remember if we were having our weekly prayer time or not, because Pam had been traveling. Feeling an inner compelling to at least go and find out, I showed up at Pam's house at the usual time. As she answered the door, stepping over the suitcase in the entry, she was surprised. "Are we meeting today?" I asked. Pam, easy-going as ever, said, "I couldn't remember what we had decided. I just got back last night... I'll have to move the stuff off the couch. Come on in!" I went to get Abel and baby Matthew out of the car and settled them in the house.
Pam decided to call up Brenda, our other faithful attendee, to see if she wanted to join us, too. I could hear Pam's response on the phone: "Oh, it doesn't matter if you haven't had a shower. Come over anyway!" And that was how God surrounded me with two other believers -- even when it had not been in any of our plans -- at the hour I needed them most.
We shared God's answers to the things we had been praying together for. We discussed new issues to pray for. And then as Pam began praying, Matthew started getting fussy. Not the norm for him, I decided he was probably hungry. I got up with him and patted him in my arms while his bottle warmed. Pam and Brenda took turns praying, while Matthew cried -- at times, loud enough to make it hard to hear them.
And then they finished. And Matthew suddenly went rigid in my arms. His body was firm, his eyes glazed in a blank stare, and he was absolutely still. He was not breathing. I heard myself gasp, "Matthew?!" Brenda and Pam were beside me in a second. Pam tore Matthew from my arms and instantly performed baby Heimlich back thrusts on him. We held him face first again to see if there was any change. Still rigid. Still motionless. I took Matthew back, frantically patting his back. "We need to call 911." I heard my voice ordering. I went looking for a phone. "Pam, where's your phone??"
"I got it," I heard her voice say... it felt like she was miles away. "Yes, we need an ambulance. We're at..."
"Have them tell me what to do!!" I cried breathlessly. "I just need to know what to do!"
There I stood in Pam's dining room. And I felt time stand still as I stared at the baby in my arms, willing him to breathe. I watched his face turn from red to blue. And still he was firm... no rising and falling of his chest. I cried, "Oh, God. Oh, God!" I couldn't form any more words to my prayer. I was so petrified.
All the CPR classes I had taken over the years had flown out the window the moment Matthew stopped breathing. I felt paralyzed with fear.
As the seconds turned into a full two minutes, and I gazed at Matthew's empty, staring eyes, I felt like I could truly lose him. This baby could die in my arms. Right there. With me standing in Pam's dining room. With me hearing Pam talking to the dispatcher. And Matthew's life could be over right there. The reality of the frailty of life hit me and rested on my shoulders like the weight of a cannon ball.
"Oh, God!" I cried again and again.
And then I heard Brenda: "Abel, we need to pray for Matthew." Brenda grabbed Abel's hand and came to kneel beside me. "God, help Matthew to breath again." And at that very moment, Matthew inhaled.
And I witnessed a miracle. I held in my helpless arms the little one who God wanted to live. While I was useless and paralyzed, He was ever faithful.
For the next couple of minutes until the paramedics arrived, Matthew breathed only sporadically. His body shook for a few seconds. And then he closed his eyes as if asleep. He breathed and look blankly at me again. Matthew alternated so until we heard the siren on Pam's street. I hurried towards the front door. I wanted to go meet the medics on the grass, but Pam said, "Wait. They'll come to you."
I forced myself to stay at the front door, but as soon as they were near enough, I handed Matthew over to them. And then I breathed again. What relief to feel that trained professionals were handling something so important now.
The next minutes were a blur of the medics taking Mathew into the ambulance, them asking us for details, me trying to call Matthew's mom. I ran inside, grabbed Matthew's bottle and my belongings. Pam told me she'd watch Abel. I gave Abel a hug and kiss and told him he would stay with Miss Pam. I waited while Pam gave me her cell number.
And as I jumped into the passenger's seat of the ambulance, I stole a glance at a frightened little boy -- my boy -- sitting on the step next to Pam and Brenda, wondering where his little friend was going.
And then we drove to the hospital. It baffled me that we did not even drive with the sirens on. I suppose it was because Matthew was already breathing again. I sat as a helpless passenger, craning to see what the medics did behind me. When I finally reached Matthew's mom, I had already rehearsed what I would say: "Karlene, it's Marianne. Matthew's okay. But he stopped breathing. We had to call an ambulance and we're on our way to the hospital." As calm as I have ever heard her, she replied, "He's okay?" "Yes." "I'll plan to meet you there."
The driver would not talk to me; I decided perhaps he was not allowed while he was on-duty, so I stopped trying. In his kindness, though, he did turn on the rear camera and directed it toward me, so that I could see the grainy images of the medics working with Matthew. The first half of the drive, there were intermittent cries and quietness. I later heard the medics say that they were trying to agitate Matthew, so that he would cry hard, thus forcing him to breath regularly. By the second half, he was screaming. When we arrived at the hospital at the same time that his parents did, he was breathing regularly.
I watched as one medic wrapped a blanket around the other medic and Matthew to carry him inside. I took another deep breath as Matthew's parents took over his care inside the hospital room. As the medics briefed the nurse on their procedures and prepared to leave, one looked over at me. With genuine concern, he asked, "You okay?" Tears suddenly dripped from my checks, and I said, "Yeah," as I received his hug.
I stayed, while the nurses and doctors asked the details. I reenacted the scene in my head -- those life-changing five minutes -- over and over. And then I realized I needed a ride back to Abel. I stepped outside to call Scott to see if he could give me a ride. As I started dialing, I received a call from Brenda. "Hi Marianne. We just wanted to see if you needed a ride home?" Another little gift from God, using the body of Christ to care for me...
Pam decided to call up Brenda, our other faithful attendee, to see if she wanted to join us, too. I could hear Pam's response on the phone: "Oh, it doesn't matter if you haven't had a shower. Come over anyway!" And that was how God surrounded me with two other believers -- even when it had not been in any of our plans -- at the hour I needed them most.
We shared God's answers to the things we had been praying together for. We discussed new issues to pray for. And then as Pam began praying, Matthew started getting fussy. Not the norm for him, I decided he was probably hungry. I got up with him and patted him in my arms while his bottle warmed. Pam and Brenda took turns praying, while Matthew cried -- at times, loud enough to make it hard to hear them.
And then they finished. And Matthew suddenly went rigid in my arms. His body was firm, his eyes glazed in a blank stare, and he was absolutely still. He was not breathing. I heard myself gasp, "Matthew?!" Brenda and Pam were beside me in a second. Pam tore Matthew from my arms and instantly performed baby Heimlich back thrusts on him. We held him face first again to see if there was any change. Still rigid. Still motionless. I took Matthew back, frantically patting his back. "We need to call 911." I heard my voice ordering. I went looking for a phone. "Pam, where's your phone??"
"I got it," I heard her voice say... it felt like she was miles away. "Yes, we need an ambulance. We're at..."
"Have them tell me what to do!!" I cried breathlessly. "I just need to know what to do!"
There I stood in Pam's dining room. And I felt time stand still as I stared at the baby in my arms, willing him to breathe. I watched his face turn from red to blue. And still he was firm... no rising and falling of his chest. I cried, "Oh, God. Oh, God!" I couldn't form any more words to my prayer. I was so petrified.
All the CPR classes I had taken over the years had flown out the window the moment Matthew stopped breathing. I felt paralyzed with fear.
As the seconds turned into a full two minutes, and I gazed at Matthew's empty, staring eyes, I felt like I could truly lose him. This baby could die in my arms. Right there. With me standing in Pam's dining room. With me hearing Pam talking to the dispatcher. And Matthew's life could be over right there. The reality of the frailty of life hit me and rested on my shoulders like the weight of a cannon ball.
"Oh, God!" I cried again and again.
And then I heard Brenda: "Abel, we need to pray for Matthew." Brenda grabbed Abel's hand and came to kneel beside me. "God, help Matthew to breath again." And at that very moment, Matthew inhaled.
And I witnessed a miracle. I held in my helpless arms the little one who God wanted to live. While I was useless and paralyzed, He was ever faithful.
For the next couple of minutes until the paramedics arrived, Matthew breathed only sporadically. His body shook for a few seconds. And then he closed his eyes as if asleep. He breathed and look blankly at me again. Matthew alternated so until we heard the siren on Pam's street. I hurried towards the front door. I wanted to go meet the medics on the grass, but Pam said, "Wait. They'll come to you."
I forced myself to stay at the front door, but as soon as they were near enough, I handed Matthew over to them. And then I breathed again. What relief to feel that trained professionals were handling something so important now.
The next minutes were a blur of the medics taking Mathew into the ambulance, them asking us for details, me trying to call Matthew's mom. I ran inside, grabbed Matthew's bottle and my belongings. Pam told me she'd watch Abel. I gave Abel a hug and kiss and told him he would stay with Miss Pam. I waited while Pam gave me her cell number.
And as I jumped into the passenger's seat of the ambulance, I stole a glance at a frightened little boy -- my boy -- sitting on the step next to Pam and Brenda, wondering where his little friend was going.
And then we drove to the hospital. It baffled me that we did not even drive with the sirens on. I suppose it was because Matthew was already breathing again. I sat as a helpless passenger, craning to see what the medics did behind me. When I finally reached Matthew's mom, I had already rehearsed what I would say: "Karlene, it's Marianne. Matthew's okay. But he stopped breathing. We had to call an ambulance and we're on our way to the hospital." As calm as I have ever heard her, she replied, "He's okay?" "Yes." "I'll plan to meet you there."
The driver would not talk to me; I decided perhaps he was not allowed while he was on-duty, so I stopped trying. In his kindness, though, he did turn on the rear camera and directed it toward me, so that I could see the grainy images of the medics working with Matthew. The first half of the drive, there were intermittent cries and quietness. I later heard the medics say that they were trying to agitate Matthew, so that he would cry hard, thus forcing him to breath regularly. By the second half, he was screaming. When we arrived at the hospital at the same time that his parents did, he was breathing regularly.
I watched as one medic wrapped a blanket around the other medic and Matthew to carry him inside. I took another deep breath as Matthew's parents took over his care inside the hospital room. As the medics briefed the nurse on their procedures and prepared to leave, one looked over at me. With genuine concern, he asked, "You okay?" Tears suddenly dripped from my checks, and I said, "Yeah," as I received his hug.
I stayed, while the nurses and doctors asked the details. I reenacted the scene in my head -- those life-changing five minutes -- over and over. And then I realized I needed a ride back to Abel. I stepped outside to call Scott to see if he could give me a ride. As I started dialing, I received a call from Brenda. "Hi Marianne. We just wanted to see if you needed a ride home?" Another little gift from God, using the body of Christ to care for me...
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