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On this day, January 18, 11 years ago Jacob was still alive, still fighting for his life.  He was 20 days old and still holding on.  I had stayed up with him all night knowing it may be our last moments together.  He showed some improvement throughout the day.  His blood pressure improved, his ECHO came back OK and they were able to lower the dose of epinephrine.

In my mind, to help me get through the tough times, I imagined Jacob home.  I imagined him tucked into bed between me and my husband, snuggling before we took him to his crib.  I imagined him bouncing in his bouncy seat, wide toothless grin.  My favorite image was of my two boys, Joey and Jacob riding together in a little red wagon, giggling together as only brothers can do.

We had lots of visitors this day.  My parents were a huge support.  They helped with the logistics and taking care of Joey but they were also there emotionally.  Looking back now I see they were not just dealing with the medical trauma of their grandson but with the trauma their daughter was going through caring for a sick baby.  A helpless position to be in.  My husband’s mom was a huge support as well.  She was always available to help with whatever we needed.

Our doctor had been the same one for several days.  She was aggressive in her treatments as we had encouraged.  However I knew that the next doctor might not agree with our attempts to save Jacob.  They might think he was too far gone.  I was fearful for when the next doctor would come on.  But  I was more fearful that the next doctor was right…(to be continued.)