Mason Lee Morrison

My name is Brandy Morrison. I am 35 years old and I have two beautiful daughters who are 14 and 10 years old. Last year at the end of August 2013, I found out I was pregnant with my third child, this time – a precious baby boy and my only son. That December my world came crashing down and it wouldn’t be the first time.

I found out on my 20-week ultrasound that my son had hypoplastic left heart syndrome and Dandy Walker, and I also had a two-vessel cord. I was told that my son would not survive until birth, and he would more than likely be stillborn. Numerous doctors’ appointments and numerous ultrasounds with specialists later, they finally decided to induce me at 35 weeks. They were shocked that my son made it this far. They had planned on a c-section because they said he would not tolerate a vaginal birth, but I was hoping for a vaginal birth so I could be with my son quicker. On April 10, 2014, at 3 lbs 13 oz., and 15.9″ my son was born. It took them 20 minutes to get him stable.

They transferred him to the Children’s hospital and at 5 days old, he had his first heart surgery, called a hybrid. A week later, he had his second, a heart catheterization. The day after, he was doing so good and they talked about taking him off his ventilator after the weekend. This was a Friday and a day that started to change, my hopes, my dreams for my baby boy.

The next day, my son’s belly was swollen and they put up his oxygen; his color was off. That night his neck swelled and his belly swelled more. They could not find out what was wrong? They did ultrasounds of his belly, hoping to find the source. Mason’s blood pressure started dropping and staying low. I was terrified – I thought how could this be? He was doing so well and holding strong, proving the doctors wrong – until now. He was on 100% oxygen and his carbon dioxide levels were high – his doctor and the head nurse on the floor were still trying to find answers. His doctor decided to change him from the ventilator to high-powered oscillator – a different kind of vent and it could do harm to his little premature lungs. They didn’t have another option; they needed to get his carbon dioxide levels down. That early morning, after a sleepless night, I went over to check him for the umpteenth time – a total shock and a sick feeling hit my stomach. This was not my son, it was but it wasn’t, he was so swollen. I asked about him, what was going on? The doctor said his carbon dioxide levels dropped but his lactate levels were high and he had no urine output. He said they swabbed my son’s throat and it showed an infection. He would not have the results in till the next day or two. He said my son was in septic shock. I didn’t understand what all this meant? My son was put on 3 high-dose antibiotics and a high dose epi- no change that afternoon. I had just gone down to get something to eat with my family but brought my food up to my son’s room. I didn’t want to be away from him for long. As I was coming down the hallway to his room, a “code blue” came over the loudspeakers and it said my son’s room number. His lights were flashing.

I ran down the hall and saw doctors and nurses run to his room. By the time I got there, his heart rate had come back down. I was told that he was not going to come out of this and that the next time he coded, it could be it. I ran to the bathroom, dropped to the floor and bawled. Then I went out and told them I wanted to hold him.

They gave him to me, my poor little fighter was slipping away and there was nothing I could do. The doctor told me that I could choose to take him off the vent and let him go, or keep him on and make him comfortable until he went on his own and that it wouldn’t be long. What do I do? How could I let him go? But I didn’t want to see him suffer. Two hours passed, going over and over in my mind on what I should do? I asked the doctors over and over, hoping to hear some hope but there wasn’t any. They said his lactate levels were now at 56 and the level is supposed to be 2 or less. I finally made the most gut-wrenching, heart-breaking decision a mother ever has to make.

My world pretty much ended at 6:01 pm on April 27, 2014. My little precious miracle and fighter was gone. I thought if anything were to take him – it would have been his heart condition, but it wasn’t. I learned after I got his medical records that the infection from his breathing tube was e.coli. I have no idea how he got it? So, after defying all odds against him, my baby survived till 35 weeks, made it through 2 heart surgeries, only to be taken by septic shock at just 17 days old. It has now been 5 months and I’m still in this fog they call grief, living with depression, severe anxiety, PTSD, no appetite and no sleep, missing my baby boy. This is my life now. A life no mother should ever have to live and the constant questions as to ‘why’ and ‘how’?

Source: by Brandy Morrison (Mason's mother)