Here's the seventh chapter of Kiylee's Christmas.
Chapter Seven – Christmas Eve
    The rest of the summer passed quickly.  I started eighth grade in 
September.  I liked my teachers and my classes.  I was elected as a 
student representative for the Parent Teacher Student Association and I 
was chosen to be a member of the Junior National Honor Society.  Kiy had
 her first birthday and she grew her first four teeth all in one week.  
Nathan started school again in September too.  He was learning to speak,
 even though he was still way behind all of the other kids his age.  It 
was weird, it was like he and Kiy were the same age.
    In November,
 Mom and Dad told us that we were going to have another baby.  We were 
all excited.  I was sure that it would be a boy since we already had 
four girls and only two boys.  
Mom had her second doctor’s 
appointment on Christmas Eve and Dad decided to go with her since the 
doctor had promised that they could have a look at the baby on the 
ultrasound.  They left about 9:30 in the morning and I was still tired.
   
 I was lying in my bed feeling lazy, after all, it was the Christmas 
holidays and I deserved a break from getting up early.  I knew that I 
was baby-sitting and responsible, but Kiy was asleep on Mom and Dad’s 
bed and Nathan was downstairs watching cartoons with Kinsey and Kiyna.  
When I heard the water running in Mom and Dad’s room, I figured that 
Neal was in their shower, so I let it run. As it turned out, Neal had 
heard the water too, but he thought that I was the one in the shower.  
He had just gotten a great present from a friend, root beer and a huge 
candy-cane and he was anxious to show them to me.
    He ran up the 
stairs and yelled, “Kira, are you modest?”  Hearing no answer, he opened
 the door to Mom and Dad’s room and Nathan ran out.  Nathan was naked 
and wet and Neal knew that Nathan was not allowed to shower alone.  It 
only took Neal a second to know that something was wrong.  He ran into 
the bedroom and saw Kiylee floating face down in the big green tub.  He 
threw the presents on the floor and grabbed her blue little body out of 
the ice-cold water.  
    Suddenly I heard him scream, “Kiylee’s 
dead! We killed Kiylee!”  He pounded on my door and handed her to me.  
He was hysterical and crying.  I grabbed her and said, “Neal, go call 
911!  Tell them we have a baby that we found in a tub, and stay calm!”
   
 Neal ran down the stairs and called 911, while I sat on the stairs and 
cleared Kiy’s throat.  She was so cold!  I had learned CPR in school and
 in scouts, so I knew what to do, but something deep inside me shriveled
 into a tight little ball of fear as I started listening to her chest 
and automatically doing the things that had to be done.  What if she 
died?  My parents would never trust me again.  What would I do without 
my little sunshine?  She was my baby.  I’d spent almost as much time 
cuddling with her as Mom had.  I felt for her pulse and again pushed my 
fingers into her mouth and throat.
  
    I was getting ready to start
 chest compressions and real CPR when she started to throw up and poop 
everywhere.  There was some on my shirt and all over the stairs, but I 
didn’t care.  Kiy was the most important and even though she was still 
blue, now at least she had shown some signs of life.
    Neal yelled 
for me to come downstairs and sit by the telephone, so he could give me 
instructions from the dispatcher.  I ran downstairs with Kiy in my arms 
and told Kinsey to get a blanket and clothes for Kiy.  I told Kiyna to 
go get my glasses and then to keep Nathan in the family room.  It wasn’t
 his fault.  He had put Kiy in the tub and we all knew it, but he didn’t
 understand that what he had done would hurt her.  He just wanted to 
give Kiy a bath.  They had baths together all the time, but never 
without someone making sure that nothing bad happened.
    I told 
Neal to tell the 911-dispatcher that Kiylee had a pulse and was 
breathing, but she was horribly blue and cold.  Meanwhile, our next door
 neighbor who is a paramedic, was pulling out of his driveway when he 
heard the call on his scanner.  He flagged down another neighbor who is 
also a paramedic.  She happened to be driving in front of our house 
right when we needed her.  Together, they began stabilizing Kiy within a
 minute of Neal's call.  The South Jordan paramedics arrived about five 
minutes later and kicked us out of the kitchen.
    We knew we had to
 call Mom and tell her what was going on.  I knew she would be upset.  
She had worried that something would happen in Yellowstone, but she 
thought we were pretty safe in our own home.  I knew she wouldn’t blame 
Nathan; she would blame me.  I was supposed to be baby-sitting.  I was 
supposed to be responsible.  Kiy was so tiny and sweet and I had let her
 be in danger.  She might even die and it was all my fault!
    Neal 
called Mom and tried to tell her what was going on, but he ended up 
crying hysterically.  Mom was trying hard to stay calm, but she lost it 
when I told her we found Kiy in the tub.  I couldn’t tell her if Kiy 
would live or die, but I knew she wasn’t dead yet.  I tried to tell her 
that they were life-flighting Kiy to Primary Children’s Medical Center, 
but Mom was so hysterical that I don’t think she understood me.  A 
paramedic came in just then and I gratefully handed him the phone.  He 
told her to calm down and carefully drive to the hospital because she 
would probably get there before Kiy.  I stayed nearby during the entire 
conversation, but the paramedic didn’t tell them anything that I didn’t 
already know about Kiy’s condition.  He told them that she was still 
breathing, but that was all. 
    I went back into the living room 
where all of my brothers and sisters were lined up on the couch.  They 
were crying and upset.  Neal was struggling with Nathan.  He didn’t want
 to sit quietly; he wanted to watch TV.  Neal was trying to put some 
clothes on him, but he wasn’t having much luck.  I took Nathan’s hand 
and he settled down.  I mechanically pulled on his Levis and t-shirt and
 slipped his arms into his coat.  I knew that the helicopter was on its 
way and I didn’t think that they would let us stay there without my 
parents since we had already had one accident.  I just wasn’t sure where
 we were going to go.  I knew the paramedics didn’t want us to see them 
stick IVs and breathing tubes into Kiy.  They also didn’t want us to 
know if she suddenly stopped breathing.  
    After a few minutes, 
our next door neighbor, Janice, took us all to her house.  They wouldn’t
 even give me time to change my shirt.  We sat on her living room window
 seat and we watched Kiy go down the street on a stretcher.  They didn’t
 dress her and she was covered with all sorts of tubes and wires.  The 
helicopter had landed in the middle of the street a couple of houses 
from ours.  The policemen had put up a tape-line so that none of our 
neighbors could get in the way.  
    We watched the life-flight crew
 load her tiny body into the helicopter and then we saw the helicopter 
take off.  All this time, our neighbors were gathering.  By the time 
Kiy’s helicopter was in the air, about 50 of my neighbors had gathered 
at our mailbox.  A neighbor organized a prayer circle and they all 
pleaded for a miracle.  Most of the people were crying and hugging their
 own children.  I think everyone thought that Kiy would probably die.  
Why would they life-flight her if she could have ridden in the 
ambulance?  Besides, she was so cold and blue.  How would they ever get 
her temperature back up to normal before it damaged some of her body 
parts?  
    I was scared.  I looked at Neal and I could tell that he
 was scared too.  By then, I didn’t care if Mom and Dad grounded me for 
the rest of my life, as long as my little Kiy lived.  I just wanted to 
hold her in my arms and tell her everything would be OK, but I 
couldn’t.  It was Christmas Eve and we really needed a miracle.

 
 
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