I last posted on February 1, shortly before I received a call from an O’Fallon police officer who said that our son, Evan, had had a medical emergency and was taken to Memorial Hospital. He told me that another officer picked my wife up at work and was taking her to the hospital, and he advised me to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.
En route to the hospital, I called our childcare provider to find out what had happened. She had put Evan down in a playpen for his nap, where he rested on his back as he had many times. After she attended to feeding other children lunch and watching children play outside, she returned to find Evan turned over on his stomach, flat on his face. He was blue and not breathing.
I arrived at Memorial with that same heavy feeling hanging in the air that I felt when Kristi and I followed an ambulance to St. Elizabeth Hospital two years ago, when our two-year-old daughter was taken unconscious, not breathing, likely already gone, to the emergency room. There was no helping her, no helping the situation.
On February 1, 2006, at Memorial Hospital, I met Kristi in an examination room near the emergency ward. As we waited, I gathered from the fact that a chaplain had been dispatched to us that Evan was dead or very near certain death. I asked a hospital staffer whether Evan had any vital signs. He did not. I began calling parents of my students, not wanting to call the students themselves, to cancel appointments. Within ten minutes, a staffer, perhaps the same one, came in hanging her head and throwing her hands up, “No, I’m sorry…”
I later learned from an O’Fallon detective that the EMTs found Evan cold when they arrived. He died in the home of someone who loved him and whom he loved. He was my happy, handsome boy. He lived only five months and one day. His death, like Emily’s, makes no sense, and as we continue to grieve for him, we continue to mourn the loss of his sister. Today Emily would have turned five.
Wherever you are, happy birthday, Emily Jane Nowels. Please give Evan our love. Please give your grandma a big hug from Mom and Dad and Maddie and Lydia. Know that we love you all. You and Evan and your grandma were angels here.
2 comments:
I misplaced your phone number, so googled your name and found your blog. As a member of the "older generation" I was suprised to see your name/blog.
Reading through your entries helps me to better understand your feelings. There are no answers or explanations. If there was a "reason" perhaps it would help answer the "why". As a Christian, I find situations where a child is is abused, or dies, to be the most difficult to understand. There is just no explanation that brings comfort to me either. No "understanding" or words to comfort your loss. You, Kristi are loved and held in our thoughts.
Praying for you and your family
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