I cannot believe that it has almost been a year since Archer has passed away. Heidi and I were reflecting about how our Thanksgiving was when we were at Stanford. At that point we did not know that in exactly two weeks Archer would pass away. Every decision that was made to help Archer survive was ultimately not enough. I wondered if there were times that if I had been more insistent, or if I had made a different choice things would have turned out differently and Archer would still be with us today. I get in the self-destructive cycle that I call the “should’ve, could’ve, would’ve” trap. I think I should have done this, and then I could have done that, and I would have been able to do that. However, as much as I ruminate on the impossibility of changing the past, I realize that I cannot circumvent the consequences of those past decisions and actions. So, I have had to come to terms, as best that I can, with not being able to do enough to save Archer.
One of the hardest things about having a child in the NICU is, as a parent, we had to make decisions for how Archer would be cared for, and not knowing if those decisions would be good or bad. We had some of the smartest doctors in the world recommending different procedures and treatments for Archer. Yet, it was our parental duty to make medical courses of action for Archer and each of those choices came with benefits and risks. We had to wait for the effects to determine if the treatment was beneficial or harmful. Many times it was both. The other hardest part of being in the NICU was that Heidi and I were planning for the future and each decision we hoped would have lasting benefits beyond the hospital. However, the NICU staff’s main concern was how Archer was doing at the present moment and waiting to see if he could be stable enough to progress further. Archer was a very sick boy, and he was very unstable most of the time. The doctors reasonably did not make long term decisions. The main reason for this was that Archer’s lungs were very fragile and that any adverse reaction could cause Archer to go into a downward spiral. The doctors had to wait until Archer could handle some of life’s stresses without causing a negative reaction before they could advance his care. What became the most frustrating of things was that Heidi and I had to take ownership of the decisions we made for Archer and we did not have any control of the outcome. We had to wait and see, hoping that Archer would get better.
As we were in the hospital, Heidi and I had to come to terms with a few things. 1, we needed emotional help that only Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ could give. The more we turned to Heavenly Father the more help and comfort we received. There were times when we were emotionally spent and we would be calmed and comforted knowing that we were not alone. 2, we had to recognize each time when things were going bad, we were making the best decisions with the information that we had. 3, even though we did not control the outcome of our decisions, we could be with Archer and comfort him and love him the best that we could. Most of the time, the best we could do was let him hold our fingers and we caressed his head.
When I begin to ask “what if . . .?” and I begin to think, “I should’ve, and I could’ve or would’ve,” I remind myself that Heavenly Father was with me, comforting me, we made the best decisions that were available at the time, and most importantly we were there for Archer. These realizations do not take the pain away from the final outcome, but they do help remove some of the burden that I put on myself of things that are beyond my control, or decisions that I didn’t make that maybe I could have. Ultimately, I hope for Jesus Christ’s Atonement and Resurrection, that Heidi and I can be with Archer again. Even though I wasn’t perfect that I can still be with our family in the end.
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