Ian's Voice
When we look at the sun, the shadows fall behind us.
This site is dedicated to giving voice to our son Ian Larsen Gromowski. Our child died of an adverse reaction to the hepatitis B vaccine. Our hope is that Ian’s story will inspire you to learn the benefits and the risks of vaccines, so that your decisions are informed and best suited for your child.
Pictures on this site may be difficult to view. This was our son Ian’s reality, though, once he received the hepatitis B vaccine. We encourage you to see all of what Ian endured to grasp the depth of pain that characterized most of his life.
Introduction
Scott and I felt it was time to share the life of our precious son with everyone. It is unfortunate so few of our family and friends were able to meet our “lil’ sunshine”. We hope he is able to touch your life in some way. It is difficult to describe your child in only several words, but those that come to mind for Scott and me are “fighter”, “resilient” and “patient”. Ian endured more in his 47 days of life than most do in a lifetime. His spirit was beyond amazing. He would not give up. I recently had lunch with one of Ian’s occupational therapists who gave him edema massages daily. Chris described Ian as a “gentle and calming soul.” We were told time and time again by all the doctors at Children’s Hospital that Ian defied everything they knew and that they couldn’t believe he was hanging on as he did. Ian fought harder than any human being I have ever met. He must have gotten that from Daddy. He is now in heaven with his Grandpa Ken and from there he watches over us.
Scott and I documented Ian’s life through photos for medical purposes. A photo was taken almost daily to show the doctors his ever-changing rashes and body. Now, the photos can be used to show his journey and help educate the world. Although always in our mind and spirit, the photos help us remember what true pain he endured and what a fighter we were given.
Day One
Scott and I felt it was time to share the life of our precious son with everyone. It is unfortunate so few of our family and friends were able to meet our “lil’ sunshine”. We hope he is able to touch your life in some way. It is difficult to describe your child in only several words, but those that come to mind for Scott and me are “fighter”, “resilient” and “patient”. Ian endured more in his 47 days of life than most do in a lifetime. His spirit was beyond amazing. He would not give up. I recently had lunch with one of Ian’s occupational therapists who gave him edema massages daily. Chris described Ian as a “gentle and calming soul.” We were told time and time again by all the doctors at
Children’s Hospital that Ian defied everything they knew and that they couldn’t believe he was hanging on like he did. Ian fought harder than any human being I have ever met. He must have gotten that from Daddy. He is now in heaven with his Grandpa Ken and from there he watches over us.
Scott and I documented Ian’s life through photos for medical purposes. A photo was taken almost daily to show the doctors his ever changing rashes and body. Now, the photos can be used to show his journey and help educate the world. Although always in our mind and spirit, the photos help us remember what true pain he endured and what a fighter we were given.
Day Two
Scott and I awoke and immediately headed down to the NICU. I was not happy upon our arrival to find Ian in an incubator. It is a worst nightmare to see your child in one of those things. We also watched as the nurses gavage fed him, meaning a tube was inserted through his mouth and down his throat into his stomach, through which they would send formula. I thought that was the worst thing Ian could ever go through. Boy was I wrong. Scott and I stayed there with Ian the entire day. The doctor on rotation said he was confident Ian would be discharged that day. Sure enough, as Scott and I waited in my room, Ian was rolled in. We were so excited!
We had lots of visitors that day. Mommy instinct told me something was still not right with Ian, however. After everyone left, Scott and I called the nurse. Ian seemed to be wincing as though in pain. To our dismay, the nurse said he needed to be taken back to the NICU. Scott and I spent the evening there in the NICU. We couldn’t sleep, so we waited in anticipation late through the night into early morning.
Day 3 - 6
We followed much the same routine for the next several days. On the third day, St. Joe’s was kind enough to let me stay in my room an extra night. Scott and I spent every waking moment in the NICU; however. I was breastfeeding when Ian was able. When his breathing was not well, he was either gavage fed or we would give him a bottle.
After the third day, we were able to stay in a family room down the hall form the NICU, as we weren’t going home without our baby boy! There was not one moment I left his side, unless I was eating or using the restroom. We read books to Ian, rocked him, changed his diapers, and bathed him. We were there for every single feeding. In the wee hours of the night and morning the nurses would call our room.
We would cruise down the hall in our pajamas to see and feed our handsome boy. While visits in the NICU were limited, we did have a few. Our parents were there every single day, for example.
We were set to close on a home at this same time. Our mortgage broker sent a representative to the hospital so I could sign over power-of-attorney rights to Scott. Scott was left to close by himself. This was supposed to be such a happy day. We were buying this house for Ian to grow up in, and neither Ian nor I were able to be there. This was very sad, but Ian and I were able to spend some quality mom and son time together at the hospital while daddy took care of our new house.
Scott and I hounded the doctors every day. We wanted as much information as possible. We asked more and more questions. We didn’t understand why Ian was still there. We learned quickly our constant questions were not always welcome. We asked anyway.
Stay tuned for more
More coming soon...