So Charles was sick while we were in Chicago. I was sick when we got back. I had hoped that our sweet baby would escape it all due to the miracle of antibodies in breast milk.
Not so much.
Monday I put her to bed as usual, but around 11:30 she woke up crying in a strange way. She was hot and limp. I tried to nurse her while she was still swaddled and the milk just ran out of her mouth.
Panic set in.
I unswaddled her and realized that she was REALLY hot and extremely lethargic, with a dazed look on her face. I got her to the changing table, took her temperature:
The rest is a bit of a blur - I called the pediatrician who said to take her to the emergency room immediately. I called my husband at work and there was no answer. I called his best friend that works at the same site and there was no answer there either. I started driving saying "Hi Toto! How are you?" because there was no sound. And my baby hates to drive at night... she always cries. The silence was suffocating.
I got to the hospital safely, care of two cars that were in front of me the whole way - going the speed limit, driving me crazy, but keeping us both safe. Thank you God for those two cars.
I ran in and the care began... triage, tylenol, tests, and lots of crying. I cried and cried while they tried to put the IV in. I was so relieved that we were there and they were taking care of her and so scared that something terrible was wrong. She cried too... cried until she was hoarse. Poor baby. Sick and tortured.
They admitted us for observation and I nursed her all night. I just didn't want to put her down and find her like that again. In the morning she was better...smiling at us and the nurses. Oh, the nurses were so great. They could see the terror under my perma-smile and they nursed me through it. They were so kind.
Nothing unusual came back - and they decided it was probably her first viral thing. And she has been coughing and sneezing with a low-grade fever the rest of this week - poor baby.
This was my introduction to the fact that I cannot keep her safe. Not in the way I want to. I have to let her be sick. I have to let her cry. I have to let her live. But the temptation is to keep her here, wrapped up in my arms forever, my baby. I will try to protect you my dear. I will try harder to protect you - all the while knowing this was just the first time. There will be more for both of us. But I will pray that God keeps you safe. I will pray that you continue to grow and flourish. And I will pray that I can protect you as much as possible.
Oh, my poor baby.