Kristen Dawn Eagan is my name.  I live in Bountiful, in the state of Utah, with my husband, Filip, and our eight children:  Kenny (10), Kamille (9), Kasen (8), Kayla (7), Kenzie (6), Karter (5), Kwinsey (3), and our youngest, 1-year-old Konnor, who is a medical miracle.

I am a home school instructer/housewife; my husband, meanwhile, is a truck driver, who drives for Wal*Mart.  He is hardly ever home; if he's home more than one day a week, we're lucky.  I'm the one who usually runs the show at home.  I don't mind it, but I do miss Filip when he's not here, especially when the children are acting up.

On to our story. 

When Konnor was born, he was born with all sorts of medical complications:  an imperforate anus.  Shriveled kidney (one; the other kidney was fine).  A twisted intestine.  Lung issues that required weeks in the Neonatal Intensive Care unit, hooked up to a ventilator (and then when he was finally well enough to come home, he came home on oxygen).  He was very sick; doctors didn't have much hope for him.

It was one of the worst times of our lives.

How we prayed, worried, fretted over that little boy!!

We looked to our church (and our God) for comfort; our church family was so supportive during the darkest days.  They still do support us, let us know that they are praying for us, especially when Konnor gets sick. 

He's always been smaller, weaker than his brothers or sisters; he still can get sick pretty easily.

Well, a few months back, Konnor was put down for the night.  Nothing unusual there.  We thought we would have an uneventful night.  Well, about midnight, I woke up, with the niggling feeling that something was wrong.  The first thing I thought of was:  Konnor!

I raced into his room; he was lying in his crib, struggling to breathe.  When I snapped on the light, his face was bluer than blue:  it resembled a blueberry.  It scared the liver out of me; I got scared, so I screamed for Fil, my husband.  He came; he immediately called for an ambulance; we both knew that Konnor was in trouble.

By the time the ambulance came, we were shaking with fear.  We were sure that this was it for our baby.  He was going to die.  Paramedics came rushing in, with all their equipment; soon, they went to work on our baby.  It was a horrible moment.

Suddenly, I heard the one paramedic say:  "He isn't breathing!!  Quick!  Start CPR!!"

They worked on him for what seemed like hours, but it was only for several moments.  They rushed him out the door, still doing CPR on Konnor.  Fil and I followed them, right to the ambulance.  I tried to climb into the back, but Fil held me back.  By now, I was screaming hysterically:  I wanted nothing more than to be right by Konnor's side.

The doors were shut with a loud "BANG!"; then the ambulance raced away, towards the nearest hospital.  All I could do was stand there, let Fil hold me, and pray desperate prayers to Heaven above, to ask God to let my baby boy live through this crisis.

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After the ambulance left, Fil told me he was taking the van to the hospital; he'd get a hold of me as soon as he knew what was going on with our baby son.  Meanwhile, all I could do was stay home and try to comfort the children, who were probably scared to death for their youngest brother.

And continue praying to God to let Konnor live.

*End of part one.*