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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