My mommy found out she was pregnant with me in March of 2000. Everybody was real happy and waited for my arrival. My arrival came on October 17, 2000, at 11:05 p.m. Everyone would look at me and say what a beautiful baby I was. When I was born I weighed 6 lb.. 10 oz. I was able to go to my new home when I was four days old. At my home I had a mommy named Brandy, a daddy named Matthew, and a big brother named Johnathan. They spoiled me very much.
The first two months of my life everything was normal. I was growing like a weed. Then in February I got real sick. They said I had RSV, a bad respiratory virus. I stayed in the hospital for a whole week. When I got back home from the hospital, I started to get weak easily. My mommy would ask the doctor about it when she took me for my checkups. He told mommy not to worry though that I was probably just a “lazy baby.” I was a boy, you know!
In April, when I was almost six months old, the doctor told my mommy and daddy they ought to take me to Birmingham Children's Hospital because something just wasn't right. That was an awfully long drive. That night I had to sleep in PICU because the doctors there said I wasn't breathing very strong. On that trip, they ran lots of tests, but they couldn't find anything wrong. So back home we went. When we got back home, I had to start physical therapy. Oh how I did NOT like that. I would cry and raise a ruckus, but mommy and daddy said I had to do it to stay strong. So I did.
In May, we had to go back to Birmingham again for more tests. Yuck! Mommy and Daddy were so worried, but I always made sure I smiled and talked to them lots. Mommy and daddy got the call in June that they had to go back and see the neurologist right away. That was the day they told them what I had was some awful disease called Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA). That neurologist didn't know the type though, so we still had to wait. The best thing about this though is that Mommy started to stay home with me and my big brother. The next week, I started gong to MDA clinic. That was when mommy and daddy found out I had type one. I know they were scared, but I knew that they would do the very best they could.
I had already been having daily breathing treatments for a couple of months, but now I also had to have a suction machine. I hated that darn machine. I would try to stick my tongue in the way, but mommy and daddy always found ways around it. I had lots of good stuff happen too though. I learned to yell at my daddy, I sucked a sucker all by myself, I got to pet cats and dogs, and I also played ball. Then in July, I had to get my feeding tube put in because I wouldn't eat when I got sick. Although within a month I was having to use the feeding tube all the time because I started having trouble swallowing. Then a month after that my respiratory doctor, his name was Dr. Makris (he was my favorite), he made me start using a coughing machine. I hated this even more than that darn suction machine. But I had to use it cause mommy and daddy made me.
In October, I turned one year old. It was great! I had a big birthday party everyone was here. My mommy, daddy, big brother, relatives, and friends. They got me my favorite helium balloons!! I really liked them cause I could tug on them all by myself! The next couple of months everything was pretty normal. Well, as normal as could be.
Then the second week of December, I started throwing everything up. Nobody knew, but I was developing acid reflex. My mommy took me to the emergency room on Sunday, and I got to ride in the ambulance all the way to Birmingham. They said I had pneumonia due to throwing up and breathing it into my lungs. The first two days in the hospital were fine, but on Wednesday morning at 5:10 a.m., I coded for the first time. The doctors rushed into to help me. They did a very good job. They then had to put me on a ventilator. I did not like that tube down my throat. I tried to chew it in half, but I didn't have teeth!
On Friday morning, mommy, daddy, and the doctors decided I needed to try it on my own again. They took the tube out at 10:30 a.m., but I was just so scared and started breathing too fast. I just wasn't strong enough anymore. So I had to say good-bye to everyone I loved, but I am up here in heaven watching out for them everyday. I passed away on December 14, 2001. Just three days shy of turning 14 months old. I didn't want to leave everyone so sad, but God and the angels called for me and I had to go.
I am now not in pain, see! Now I am God's angel.